Young Master
Young Master
"Whoa. You live in a place like this? Looks like you've got money. Why didn't you move into the dormitory?"
One glance at the lavish mansion told Becky everything she needed to know about the family's wealth.
The burning-sword crest stamped here and there across the estate also struck her as exceptionally refined.
The boy asked in return.
"Dormitory?"
"Yeah. The Märchen Academy dormitories are ridiculously nice. The benefits are huge too — so why didn't you take one?"
"Why didn't you."
Cheap of him to answer a question with a question. Becky cleared her throat with a small cough.
"Well, I — you know. It just kind of worked out that way."
"It worked out that way for me too."
"So petty."
She fidgeted with the state of her clothes for no real reason. Now that she looked, compared to Plan's attire, hers was dreadfully shabby.
As they drew closer to the main gate, Becky couldn't help exclaiming again.
It would be a lie to say she wasn't envious. She wanted to live somewhere like this.
"Wow... are all the kids who attend Märchen Academy this loaded? To live this well off..."
After muttering to herself, Becky looked at Plan.
The boy still wore an expression she couldn't read.
She had done him the favor of escorting him home, yet his eyes seemed to hold more unfamiliarity than relief. It was the kind of gaze you might cast at someone else's house.
No way.
"Plan. This isn't your house?"
Just as he parted his lips to answer.
"Who might you be."
A clear and unwavering voice struck her ears.
When she turned her head, a maid with red hair stood there.
Her sharply cut bob seemed to speak for her disposition.
Considering how self-possessed she was, she was probably the head maid. Yet her face looked terribly young.
...Young enough to be Becky's age.
Still, the head maid theory seemed correct. A single gold badge for identification was pinned near her chest.
"...Who might you be."
The woman asked once more.
If the first question had been directed vaguely at both of them, this one was aimed solely at Becky.
Becky gave a polite bow from the waist before speaking.
"Hello. Plan here couldn't find his way home, so I walked him back."
"Young Master Plan could not — find his way — home?"
Her voice as she asked was laced with suspicion.
"Please go inside, Young Master."
At the head maid's nod, another maid approached and guided him into the mansion.
The boy went without a word.
That left Becky and the head maid alone.
Frozen by the cold atmosphere, Becky soon thought she knew what she was being suspected of. She waved her hands frantically.
Compared to these people, whose very air blended luxury, nobility, and formality, commoner Becky looked more than a little grubby.
Even standing next to them probably offended the eye.
"He and I just met today."
"Just met today."
Ah — was that even more suspicious?
"We aren't anything to each other. Really."
The head maid narrowed her eyes, then dipped her head lightly in a maid's courtesy.
The faint smile gracing her face was as beautiful as a work of art, but it was anything but warm.
It felt like an eviction order, so Becky bowed hastily in turn.
"Ah, yes! Goodbye!"
She had no desire to linger anywhere uncomfortable. She made herself scarce in a hurry.
Then she walked toward her own home.
Walked some more.
And then —
"......!"
She stopped short in surprise.
As if bewitched, she traced the crest she had seen at the mansion in her mind.
What lingered in her memory was the emblem of the blazing sword. There was no way that was a magic family.
Yeah — no matter how you looked at it, that was a knight family.
Knights and mages were creatures who tore at one another's throats.
Being born into a knight family and deciding to become a mage made even less sense. Let alone possessing such exceptional magical skill — that was harder still to understand.
The girl found herself murmuring aloud.
"...What in the world, what is he?"
◈
"Tolerable."
For the time being, I let my exhausted body sink onto the bed. The softness enfolded me, and while my body grew lighter, my mind did not.
If there was one stroke of luck, it was that my thoughts had at last settled.
This was undeniably reality. And from now on, I would have to live in this body.
I couldn't comprehend it, but I had accepted it.
So, what was I to do now?
"I should do what I want."
Someday, some anomaly might suddenly occur again, but I decided not to fear it. Even if I did, there was no way to oppose it.
Right — so I should do whatever I wanted. I rose abruptly and stood before the mirror.
Had this simply been a second birth, I would have pursued my own desires without complication. But it was little different from having stolen another person's body, so my curiosity flickered to life.
What did this boy want to do?
Worrying about one's path in life was something I had not done in an exceedingly long time.
Kaplan had always known exactly what he wanted, and he had precisely grasped what he needed to do to achieve it.
Observation and analysis were among my specialties. So I began examining the room's various contents.
Across the rather spacious room, armor, swords, and the like were hung here and there, gathering dust.
'The family crest was a blazing sword, too.'
Evidently, this boy had been born into a knight family and had naturally been burdened with a knight's fate.
"Pitiful."
Yet his study, on the other hand, was packed entirely with books on magic. Not a speck of dust had settled on those.
At that, the corners of my lips twitched faintly upward.
A knight's life forced upon him, and a mage's path he wished to walk. A clash between destiny and desire. Resistance.
I couldn't speak to the rest, but this kind of resistance was something I could welcome.
My curiosity grew deeper.
As I pulled out the boy's magic tomes one by one and set them on the floor, an oddly thin notebook met my hand.
A slim diary. Anyone could see it was a journal.
I have no unsavory habit of prying into others' memories, but surrounded by worn and tattered books, this one alone remained stiff — my curiosity was piqued naturally.
I turned the first page.
Only a single line was written.
---I want to become a Great Mage. No matter what.
The moment those words seared themselves onto my retinas, a dry laugh escaped me.
"A Great Mage, is it."
Had the boy dreamed of becoming a swordmaster, I could not have granted that wish. I have no interest in swords.
But what a coincidence.
The boy had harbored a goal that aligned remarkably well with Kaplan's.
"To become a Great Mage once more, in this body..."
To become a Great Mage required a staggering amount. Much to prove, and a long, long time.
And yet, I found myself intrigued.
I'd once remarked that it would be entertaining if the day ever came when I had to prove myself again, against some unknown opponent in a magic tower.
Yes — it does sound entertaining.
"How hard did he push his resistance, I wonder."
Plan reached for the magic tomes that the boy appeared to have studied diligently.
Anything I already knew would be fun because the content was familiar. And if this world held anything different, that would be fun too — because I'd be learning something new.
That was how I had always lived. And since my body had become far younger, I had no reason to be impatient.
Tap.
I flicked my fingers, and five books lifted themselves into the air.
I laced my hands behind my head for a pillow and examined them simultaneously in a comfortable posture.
In the spaces where the boy had marked stars, I read while appending annotations as I pleased.
The rustle of turning pages filled the room, and magical knowledge crashed over Plan's thoughts like waves.
"That's it."
This was my amusement.
◈
By the time the sun quietly lifted its head, perhaps?
Plan was still examining the tomes.
My original purpose in coming home had been to rest from exhaustion, but rereading foundational texts after so long was genuinely entertaining.
Ah — to be precise, it was entertaining to examine the traces left by a boy who had struggled with those basic texts.
So much so that I was still examining them while bathing, even in the tub.
The books about the broader world were also fascinating.
Just as I'd thought, this world's magical fundamentals were almost entirely identical, but its culture, its fashions, and the like seemed to diverge quite a bit from my original world.
Still, beyond anything else, what I found most interesting was—
'Even in this world, the relationship between mages and knights is a mess.'
Even with the world changed, knights and mages were still on terrible terms. Though, the paths they walk are far too different to begin with.
Reading feverishly like that, before I knew it, morning had come. Someone knocked sharply on the door.
"Young Master."
Plan was still in the bath. Getting out, opening the bathroom door, and then going all the way to open the bedroom door was far too much trouble.
"Young Master?"
A moment later, I heard the bedroom door open. She had let herself in, apparently.
"It's breakfast time — where have you gone? Young Master. Young Master!"
The noisy voice grated on my nerves considerably. Plan flung the bathroom door open with telekinesis.
"Young Master, regarding breakfast—"
Catarina, who had entered with an ordinary expression, froze.
She quickly turned her head sideways.
"I'm here."
"Ah — yes. Ah... in the bath. Ah — well. I had something to convey. Yes. About breakfast. Yes."
Catarina's face colored, only very faintly, but unmistakably. She had spent her whole life in service and still lacked immunity to a man's body.
"Don't mind it so much."
How could she possibly not mind it? Plan's body, immersed in the bath, was something the head maid dared not look at.
With her head still turned away, she continued speaking.
"In any case... breakfast is prepared. Lady Scarlett returned last night. You will be dining together."
"Hm."
Plan rested his chin in his hand briefly, considering.
Eating a meal among knights was a rather suffocating affair. I debated whether to simply ask her to bring it to my room.
Catarina shifted her eyes furtively to observe the young master in his moment of deliberation.
The air about him was vastly different from usual.
It was an overflowing dignity and refinement. It was a difference that could not remotely be explained by simply thinking he had grown older or more mature.
It was as though he had become a different person entirely.
At any rate, she shifted her eyes once more, this time to scan the interior of the room.
Her movements were incisive. That was only natural. It was Catarina's role to identify, in advance, anything that the mansion's "superiors" might take issue with.
Soon, the head maid's gaze fixed on the magic tomes scattered across the floor.
"Young Master — did you stay up all night reading magic tomes?"
"I did."
"Magic tomes..."
A subtle expression flickered across her lips.
"Might I be so bold, as a mere head maid, to speak out of turn?"
"Go ahead."
"You were classified at the academy's lowest grade, I understand."
"Is that so."
"Yes. Might I suggest taking up the sword again, even now? Even if the young lady no longer offers her aid, she might at least treat you as a younger brother — no. She might at least treat you like a person."
Plan scoffed and rose from the bath. He strode out of the bathroom.
"Unnecessary."
Disregard, contempt, loathing — I had been through all of them once before. I was accustomed.
What I had felt most keenly while enduring them was this: there is no need to cower.
"Oh — oh dear. Young Master."
Meanwhile, Catarina hastily covered her face with both hands.
But then, opening her eyes a crack, she peered through the gaps between her fingers at Plan drying himself and dressing.
It was absolutely not because she fancied him, nor to indulge any personal desire. It was simply curiosity.
'What has changed?'
It was the same body she knew belonging to Plan. Tall and lean, with not an inch of added thickness to his frame.
Having been born into a knight family, his bones were naturally broad — but the significant part was that he had not grown in the slightest.
Still, he was unmistakably different.
His body seemed especially large today. His usual sickly, fearful demeanor was nowhere to be found.
"You may go now."
As if under a spell cast by that low, calm command, Catarina moved to exit the room — before abruptly recalling what she had meant to say. She had nearly forgotten and left without realizing it.
"If you don't leave, I'll send you out."
Plan had fully dressed his lower half but was still bare above the waist.
He moved to gently push Catarina aside with his hand, but she caught hold of the hand. Her face was still turned far away.
"...Young Master! The world calls you the disgrace of the Yudit family."
She spoke on with her eyes shut tight. However the situation stood, she had to fulfill her assigned duty.
"If you continue with magic as things stand, the family will not stand idly by. You may cease to be a man of Yudit."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Well, because I am worried. I have been at your side since you were small, after all."
"Is that so."
Plan nodded. Once again, it was not a nod of agreement.
On the contrary, he lifted his chin. It was no longer Plan's indignation — Kaplan's own spirit of defiance had ignited.
"Look here. What is the renown this family has earned through the sword — roughly?"
"......Pardon?"
Bewilderment spread across Catarina's face.
"If this is a family that proves its worth through the sword, then it had best redouble its efforts from now on. Pass that along to everyone."
"What... is it you are saying right now?"
The head maid glanced around warily, checking if anyone else might have heard.
But Plan merely offered his usual dry smile.
"Because one day you might come to your senses and find you've become a magic family."
After mocking her, Plan headed for breakfast.
"Young... Young Master! Lady Scarlett will be present for this meal! You absolutely must not say such things during breakfast!"
From behind, Catarina's flustered voice reached him.
Naturally, I paid it no mind.
"Shall we go, then."
There was a mountain of things to prove.
In other words — yes.
It was enjoyable.