Half a Year at Most
"You've lost it. You're completely insane."
Eli shook his head violently, muttering as if trying to deny reality itself.
It was absurd. How on earth was he supposed to get out of that place, let alone move back in? The man wasn't in his right mind.
"Everyone's coming, right? Oh — since we're doing invitations anyway, should I invite all your other friends too?"
Utterly oblivious to what his son was thinking at that moment (or, more accurately, entirely uninterested in it), Rayegar added in a bright, cheerful voice.
"I hear you went to the imperial palace as part of a delegation. How about we hold my welcome ceremony as grandly as a royal ball?"
"You don't actually think I'm going there, do you? You were never that stupid. What's wrong with you? Did you finally lose it? You've lived long enough — maybe it's time to die."
Rayegar looked, at most, like a man in his late thirties. For someone still in his prime, talk of having 'lived long enough' didn't quite fit.
"Would you listen if I said it was?"
Suddenly, Rayegar's tone changed completely. His eyes, his voice — so gravely serious that the friends froze mid-motion, and even Eli, who had been spitting vitriol a moment ago, went still.
"Wh-what? What's with that reaction?"
"I don't have much time left."
"……!"
"Six months, at the outside? Though they say even that isn't guaranteed."
"Th-that's nonsense! There's no way you're dying! With your power, you could hold on for another thousand years, easy!"
"Hm? Dying? Why would I die?"
Rayegar stroked his chin as though the whole thing were completely off the wall.
"You just said it yourself! Six months at most!"
"Ah, that — the house renovation. I left it to the contractors and they say it'll take six months?"
The man had been exuding the air of someone terminally ill, and now suddenly he was talking about construction work? Before the absurdity could even settle, the word renovation made Eli's brow furrow.
"What renovation? There's nothing wrong with the house."
"Well, you did break more than a few things when you ran away from home. Since we're on the subject — how exactly do you plan to repay the emotional distress and material damages I suffered back then?"
"Ran away?"
"Eli, you ran away from home?"
So many new revelations in a single day. The Academy's top model student, an honors student in his department — was actually a runaway boy. What a strange world it was.
"Oh dear, oh dear. It seems your friends had no idea. You stormed out swearing you'd get revenge on me, after setting the place on fire. Did you not hear about that either, kids?"
"You — you set a fire?"
It really did burn, huh?
Even as he discussed something so grave, his face remained perfectly calm. There was no sincerity to be felt, one might say. Or perhaps, as Eli put it, he was simply so rich that a fire was nothing to him at all.
"Eli, seriously? That's not true, right?"
No matter how angry he'd been, Eli would never have committed arson. They all wanted to believe he'd at least had that much sense.
"…It was, it was just a small fire. He's inflating the interest, that's all."
"So you did set a fire?"
"What! Are you insane? What if someone had died?"
"Who would've died! You think a little fire was going to touch the interest? It wouldn't have left so much as a scratch!"
"Well, that part's probably true. But son, you put a rather sizable crack in your father's heart."
Rayegar clutched at the front of his shirt and put on a sorrowful look for all to see. At that shameless display, a laugh burst out of Eli before he could stop it.
"You're one to talk about feelings. If you'd actually had any of that, you would never have done what you did to me in the first place!"
"About that—"
"Shut up! I don't want to hear that from your mouth!"
Bloodshot veins crept into Eli's eyes. He ground his teeth and spat the words out as though chewing on glass.
"Stop running your mouth. Even my patience has limits."
Call it killing intent. Eli was growling as if he might lunge at his father at any moment.
"Squee!"
Just then — as if startled by Eli's menace — Aidan's hat rustled, and Ingrid poked its little face out.
"Oho, so you were hiding in there?"
Rayegar greeted the adorable creature's entrance with his mouth open in delight. He beckoned to Ingrid as though calling a pet dog.
"Come here!"
And then something remarkable happened. Ingrid — who listened to no one but Aidan — gave a chirp of answer and fluttered right over.
"Ingrid?"
Aidan called out in disbelief, but nothing could stop the little owl. Ingrid alighted gracefully on Rayegar's outstretched finger as though it were a perch.
It was a wondrous sight. Ingrid had approached Bayul of its own accord and nuzzled him with its beak before, but it had never once answered a summons like this.
Ingrid, being a pygmy owl, could communicate only with Aidan — the sole exception being Innocent, who was a spirit — thanks to his innate gift for communing with animals.
"So its name is Ingrid?"
Rayegar moved his hand this way and that, examining Ingrid closely. Slowly, his golden eyes softened into something like wonder.
"It hasn't molted yet, has it."
"Squee!"
"That's right. Everything has its season."
For a moment, he seemed like an entirely different person. With a gentle tone none of them had heard from him before, he stroked Ingrid's head softly. Ingrid, clearly adoring the touch, let out a rare trill it hardly ever made.
"…What do you mean, it hasn't molted? What exactly does that mean?"
Before they could even recover from their shock at Ingrid showing affection to a stranger, Rayegar's cryptic remark stung Aidan into action.
"Hmm. What could it mean?"
"The way you said it… it sounds like you know something. Am I wrong?"
"Well, my intuition is rather exceptional."
"Then please tell us. What does molting actually mean?"
"Quite the curious one, aren't you?"
Rayegar just smiled in circles without answering. It was the same act he put on with Eli — only the target had changed, and his face was brimming with mischief.
Aidan shot Eli a desperate look, begging for help.
'What is wrong with your dad? Say something on my behalf.'
'You saw how that went just now. It's useless.'
'Just try! You never know!'
When Aidan glared at him, Eli finally heaved a sigh and opened his mouth.
"What does it mean? If you're going to say something, at least finish making yourself understood."
"Out of the goodness of my heart?"
"Then should I pay you, maybe?"
"I know you've got plenty of money."
It was a remark that made his hidden agenda abundantly clear. Even Eli knew at least that much about the man's impenetrable inner workings. He would never let it slide for free.
"Aidan, give up. He's never going to tell you willingly."
"I never said the word 'never.'"
Rayegar held out a different finger, and Ingrid scurried over to it, hopping along.
'You heard him?'
Aidan jerked his chin at Eli as if to say, put in more effort. The owl didn't particularly like Eli's father either, but its desire to know was overwhelming.
"Ugh, fine, just tell us already? This isn't exactly the time for games, is it?"
In the end, Eli had no choice but to step in again. He asked sharply, irritation dripping from every syllable.
"I'm not playing. I'm more serious than I've ever been."
Though they'd only met him today, neither Bayul nor the others could argue with that.
They had a pretty good idea already. Eli was the kind of student who was kind to everyone and beloved by his classmates. The way he hurled abuse and raged at every turn was entirely Rayegar's doing.
The man called his father (adopted or not) seemed positively desperate to tease his own son to death. Not a shred of the sincerity or warmth one would expect from an ordinary parent could be felt from him.
If Eli had endured this his entire life, it would have been stranger if he hadn't come out broken. In a way, his friends thought, it was a marvel Eli had turned out as well as he had.
"You heard him, Aidan. Give it up. He'll just dangle the bait and nothing more."
"You're sure it's not just talk, though?"
"What?"
"I'm asking if you actually know something."
"Are you doubting me right now?"
"Yes, sir, I am."
At Aidan's provocative retort, the corner of Rayegar's mouth twitched with amusement.
"Well, well. This is a first for me? Being treated like this. How refreshing. Right, sweetheart?"
Somewhere along the line he was calling Eli sweetheart again. Eli wanted to scream you said you'd keep your word, so keep it — but he knew by instinct that nothing he said now would get through.
"He's a mage."
"…Huh?"
At the sudden, out-of-nowhere explanation, everyone's eyes went round.
"His skills are trash, but believe it or not, he's a mage with real ability. And because he happens to know a lot, wherever he goes he just has to show off. But his personality is so rotten that nobody ever tells him anything. So the poor sap he's talking to is left dying of frustration."
"You mean he does it on purpose?"
"His nature is pure evil. Have you seen how he treats me? Does that not tell you enough?"
No — we understand all too well.
"In a word, he just lets a hint slip. To look impressive."
They'd fallen for that trick more than a few times themselves. But leaving even his own friend Aidan at this man's mercy was something Eli simply couldn't tolerate.
"So don't ask anymore. He's not the type to hand over answers politely."
"I did say I was willing to tell you."
"He'll attach some ridiculous condition to it. Don't think we don't know you."
"Well, there would be a condition."
"See!"
What did I tell you? This is exactly what he's like!
Pointing at his own father, Eli turned back to his friends.
The picture painted itself. This scene must have played out countless times in the past, and every time, Eli must have paid the price in damages and consequences beyond counting. A truly rotten father.
"How about this weekend? By then, I think my mind might have changed."
"…What's that supposed to mean? Your mind might change?"
"You mean if we visit your residence this weekend, you'll tell us, Chairman?"
At Logan's courteous, well-mannered question, Rayegar answered with evident satisfaction.
"That's right. You might be the smartest of the lot. I'll extend formal invitations to every one of you."
"Are you going to keep spouting this nonsense? Are you insane? Why would I go there? Being near you like this is already revolting enough — what would I even do there?"
"Eat good food, have fun, sleep over."
"Forget it! I'm never setting foot in your house again. Not even if I die!"
"Really?"
"After seeing everything you pulled today, do you really think my friends would go to your house? Wake up!"
"Hmm… I think they will, though."
Something was off about Rayegar's eyes as he trailed off. When Eli whipped around, uneasy, he found Aidan's face lit with pure determination.
"Aidan, don't tell me…?"
"Will you really tell us if we come?"
"I don't lie."
Rayegar promised, stroking Ingrid's feathers.
"Shall we settle the details this weekend, then? I believe a guest will be arriving shortly."
Knock, knock.
As if he'd predicted it, the knock sounded the instant the words left his mouth. Then the door opened, and a middle-aged man appeared.
"…Chairman!"
The head of Carrington Academy itself — President Reinhardt, whom one would almost never have occasion to meet. Surprise lasted only a moment; Bayul and his friends shot to their feet and bowed.
"G-good morning!"
President Reinhardt barely acknowledged the greeting before striding straight in and bowing so deeply his head nearly touched the floor.
"Chairman, I hadn't known you were here. It has been a long time."
"Oh, it has, hasn't it? Now, you lot — out."
His manner toward the president was no different from how he treated his son and his son's friends. The clipped, tossed-off words and casual gestures made it seem as though he were greeting a trusted subordinate he'd known for decades.
"You — see you later."
With a farewell that sounded almost wistful, he gave his hand a flick and sent Ingrid sailing back toward Aidan.