Sweetie, Have You Been Well?

Perhaps Bayul's wish had found its way through after all.

Without warning, a violent gust swept across the entire area. It was strong enough to whip clothes and hair wildly about and send bodies staggering.

Nathan, plummeting at terrifying speed under the pull of gravity, was no exception. The wind caught his body and wrenched it sideways—toward a zelkova tree whose leaves had grown thick and lush in welcome of the coming summer.

"Mommyyyy!"

"Kyaaaah!"

No one dared imagine a happy ending. They could only avert their faces from the gruesome scene about to unfold before their eyes.

"...Huh?"

But something unbelievable happened. Even seeing it with their own eyes, they couldn't process it for a moment. It was impossible to conclude anything other than that a god had intervened.

"He's— he's alive!"

"He's not even hurt!"

Astoundingly, Nathan rose to his feet on the ground without a single scratch. The crowd of students was shocked enough, but Nathan's own astonishment far outstripped theirs.

"H-how did I...?"

He stared blankly at his own hands and legs, murmuring in a daze.

"Hah! Hah! Where am I? Where is this?"

Just then, a professor from the Magic Department arrived, breathless, having heard the news. He looked up at the balcony, but contrary to what he'd been told, no one stood at the railing. Only five pale young faces peered down.

When the five confirmed that Nathan was safe, their legs gave out and they sank where they stood. They had been certain he would die right before their eyes—and if he had, they would surely have been swallowed by guilt.

"That was Shame, right?"

Eli let out a long breath of relief.

"Thank goodness that wind happened to blow, or things could've gone really bad. Thanks to it, he landed in the tree, and Shame must have absorbed ‍‍‌‌⁠⁠‌‍‍‌⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠‌‌‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the impact."

The gust had carried Nathan straight to the dense, leafy tree. Its abundant branches and leaves had served as a cushion, catching his body.

And that wasn't all. The tree had let him slide gently down, so that he settled softly onto the ground.

"Bayul."

At Logan's call, Bayul lifted his bowed head. All the strength had drained from his body, and only now did the tension finally release.

"About that wind. Wasn't that you?"

"...Huh?"

"The way a gale suddenly blew out of nowhere was just too strange. As I remember it, the moment you screamed for someone—anyone—to help, that's when the wind came."

"Did it...?"

The situation had been so frantic that even though it had happened mere moments ago, Bayul couldn't remember it clearly. All he had felt was the desperate wish for Nathan to be safe.

"Whoa, that's right! You said that, Bayul, and right then the wind blew!"

"Oh— you're right!"

Aidan and Eli belatedly realized it and shot to their feet.

"The spirit of wind? Has the wind spirit appeared?"

"Innocent said it, remember? That it was around you, Bayul!"

"Just like Shame, maybe it came to help you!"

Is... is that it?

In the chaos, he hadn't had a spare moment to even think of the wind spirit. But turning it over in his mind, it was strange, when he really considered it. A gentle breeze in this season he could believe—but a sudden, violent gust was decidedly bizarre.

"If it really was the wind spirit, then the wind guided Nathan to the tree, and Shame protected him from the impact. Maybe this was the work of the wind spirit and the earth spirit together."

Quinn spoke calmly, so unlike the first time he'd ever faced a spirit. The boy who had gawked in astonishment at each new spirit's appearance now took the situation in stride.

"So you finally admit it?"

"It's not like I have a choice anymore, with everything unfolding this way."

Summoning all four great spirits had seemed utterly impossible. But now that the wind spirit had appeared, such words had lost all meaning. At this rate, it was time to wait for the spirit of fire.

"So all that's left is the fire spirit."

"You haven't even met the wind spirit yet—what are you talking about? Even this is just our guess. Nothing's confirmed."

"A guess is still a guess. This one's a hundred percent. I'd bet everything on it!"

"Still, let's not get ahead of ourselves. It might turn out to be as hard to meet as Shame was, you know."

Aidan shook his head vigorously, shuddering at the mere memory as if it still made his skin crawl.

"A whirlwind of chaos for a water spirit, and a bashful coward for an earth spirit. What kind of personality will the wind spirit have? Feels like it'll be pretty different from Innocent or Shame, doesn't it?"

"Hmm. I couldn't say for sure, but there's one thing I do know."

At Eli's know-it-all tone, everyone's eyes went wide at once.

"Innocent said she was a bad spirit, remember? Which means she and the wind spirit would be a terrible match, wouldn't it?"

"Gah! So it's got an even worse temper than her?!"

"More likely, it has a personality ‍‍‌‌⁠⁠‌‍‍‌⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠‌‌‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that never loses to Innocent. Though I couldn't tell you whether it would tease her, torment her, or what form that would take."

"Y-you just— you called our precious baby a bad spirit! I'm not letting that slide!"

"Our what?"

Eli's face crumpled as if he'd just heard the most vile curse in existence.

"Hey. Never say that word in front of me again. It gives me chills."

"What's wrong with 'precious baby'? Look, I know Innocent plays some nasty pranks sometimes, but she's cute, that's just a fact. Don't tell me you're sulking because she treats you differently?"

"It's not that. It's a word that brings back bad memories. It's the word I hate most in the world."

Indeed, Eli's complexion had turned a sickly gray for an instant. Even so, not a shred of his beauty faded with it—but hearing those words made Bayul worry, suddenly and deeply.

"Rai, are you okay?"

"What kind of bad memories could it be, if just hearing the word makes you suffer like that? Should we go get you some medicine?"

"If you're headed to the temple, you'd better leave now."

At his friends' fussing, Eli waved his hands and signaled for them to drop it and head down already.

"It's nothing that serious. We have class. The bell's about to ring."

"All because of that Nathan kid, we couldn't even eat lunch. What kind of suffering is this? How am I supposed to hold out until dinner?"

‍‍‌‌⁠⁠‌‍‍‌⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠‌‌‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Well, at least he's safe. That's what matters. Let's eat a lot at dinner."

"It's weapon techniques next, though. I'm so drained I couldn't swing a sword if my life depended on it."

Aidan grumbled that from now on, he'd have to start carrying bread in his pocket for exactly these situations.

"Eli! So this is where you were!"

They had left the dining hall and were trudging toward the main building when Alice popped up out of nowhere, right in front of them. She had fallen head over heels for Eli at the start of the semester and showered him with affection, only to finally surrender to his unchanging indifference and cold refusals about two months ago. They hadn't crossed paths since—so what on earth had her face so flushed and excited today?

"Your dad is seriously, ridiculously handsome! He doesn't really look like you, but that aura—what do you call it? That overwhelming beauty, that charismatic presence! Anyway, the two of you have it exactly the same!"

"...What the hell are you talking about?"

Beyond exasperated, genuinely dumbfounded, Eli spat out profanity—rare for him. The friends beside him were every bit as bewildered.

"His dad? His parents are dead. What are you on about?"

Eli had once confessed to them how it felt to lose family—that he had been alone from the moment he was born, that no one had ever been by his side. He had said it with such sorrow.

"Alice, isn't that joke going too far?"

"No matter how much you hate Rai, there are things you say and things you don't. Apologize. Now!"

Bayul and Aidan rounded on her, anger sharpening their voices.

"You guys are hilarious! Why would I joke about that? I don't care about him anymore, okay? What good does a pretty face do when his personality is garbage!"

Even now, just recalling how many times Eli had brushed her off made irritation surge up in her chest. This idiot and his obsession with pretty faces—it was his eyes that were the problem.

"If you don't believe me, just go inside and see for yourselves. A man calling himself Eli's father showed up, and everyone inside is in an absolute frenzy. Honestly, it's an apology I'd like from you."

"...Who—who came?"

Dread closed over Eli like a shadow. He had wondered, hadn't he? The moment Alice said the word father, his mind had leapt to him—but he'd assumed it couldn't be. No, he had wanted so desperately to believe it.

"Say that again? Eli, a gentleman who claims to be your fa-ther has arrived. In that main building over there."

"Th-that's impossible!"

Eli stammered. His eyes had lost their focus, darting this way and that.

"You could just go check. No idea why you're making such a fuss out here."

At Alice's mockery, Eli flinched hard—then suddenly broke into a run.

"R-Rai!"

His friends, exchanging only stricken glances without a word to say in the face of his alarming reaction, scrambled after him.

The moment they entered the main building, they found it packed with students. Eli and the others pushed through the crowd, forcing their way forward.

"...!"

There stood a man, relishing the dozens of stares fixed upon him as though they were simply his due. Just as Alice had said, he was staggeringly handsome.

Perhaps in his mid-thirties? He wore a clean white suit, elegant and precise, embroidered with ornate gold-leaf patterns.

A tall, long-limbed frame, skin so smooth it seemed translucent, and long golden hair that gleamed like pure sunlight, falling all the way to his waist. His face looked as though it had been painted with a brush.

It was an absolute, devastating beauty—the kind that would not yield an inch even in a contest against Eli, the man who had conquered imperial high society itself.

The man's gleaming golden eyes found Eli. The mouth that had been answering the students' fascination with a smile curved upward into an even broader arc.

Step. Step.

The man came toward them on long, unhurried strides. At that simple motion, Bayul found himself, for some reason, unable to move.