The Upper Hand
Morning in the annex.
Shiron slowly pushed himself up in bed. No one had woken him; the sunlight pouring through the window had done the job. His body felt light enough to float, yet his mood was anything but fine.
It was because of last night.
What was with that guy?
Shiron rubbed his chin, lost in thought.
Why didn’t he react at all when he saw Seira?
He had been so exhausted that he had simply collapsed, and the questions he should have asked himself yesterday only arrived now.
Lucia had shoved him aside with a casual gesture and faced Seira head-on. It was a meeting that had to happen someday, so he hadn’t interfered—yet it hadn’t been deliberate either, so he had simply watched.
But the whole thing had ended with absurd blandness, nowhere near the drama he had expected or hoped for.
Lucia had ignored Seira completely, offered a polite goodnight, and walked out of the room.
What the hell. I wasn’t looking for a tearful reunion, but I at least expected some kind of reaction…
Their first meeting in five hundred years had been so barren it might as well have been between total strangers. No—there had been no exchange at all.
“…Don’t tell me.”
Shiron stared blankly under the bed. A certain nun was curled up on the freezing stone floor, sleeping like a shrimp.
She doesn’t remember Seira?
He got out of bed and walked over to her. Then he shook her shoulder.
“Hey.”
“….”
“You’ll get a crooked jaw sleeping there.”
“……Wh-what.”
Seira turned her head and cracked her eyes open. Shiron was curious why this age-inappropriate elf was sleeping on the floor—his floor, of all places—but he didn’t press.
Being a good young man who respected his elders, he pointed with generous goodwill at the bed he had just vacated.
“If you’re going to sleep, use the bed. What’s this supposed to be?”
Even so, Seira made no move toward it. She simply sat on the floor, staring up at his face.
“Kid.”
Irritation filled her expression as she fixed him with a look.
“Don’t you remember what happened last night?”
She slowly rose and heaved a deep sigh.
“You said if I got on the bed, you’d kill me.”
“…What?”
“I asked where I was supposed to sleep, and you told me I’d die if I climbed onto the bed. So I curled up on the floor.”
I said that?
Shiron was mildly flustered. Had he really? He had been so tired he had blacked out on the spot, so the memory was fuzzy. Meanwhile Seira stretched out a long yawn and slipped straight into the bed.
“Call me again if you need me.”
“…Sure.”
Snap—
Seira flicked her fingers and the room went dark in an instant. A moment later soft breathing filled the quiet. There was nothing of a great archmage in her behavior, but Shiron didn’t scold her.
He had already sensed, vaguely, that she disliked facing people with her bare face. So he quietly turned and left the room.
The Academy library.
“Returns are due fourteen days from the date of checkout. Please be careful not to be late.”
Lucia called after a student disappearing under an armload of books.
Library committee work was unpaid volunteer labor, but she had never done it for money. She smiled brightly as she updated the loan ledger.
Whenever she was in the library, her heart settled. The turmoil left over from last night gradually drained away.
She loved this place. If asked why, it was the only corner of the vast Academy grounds where she could truly be quiet.
…They said one more fight and I’d be looking at suspension.
Oddly enough, the people Ciriel called vermin—the ones who picked fights with Lucia—never set foot near the library.
I can just stay here for a while.
Until the sun began to sink, Lucia faithfully carried out her duties. She dealt with students coming to borrow books, returned towers of volumes to their proper shelves, and quietly read until Ciriel finished her personal errands.
“Lucia.”
Just as she had grown used to the scent of old paper, a warm spring fragrance brushed her nose. Ciriel had appeared without her noticing and tapped her shoulder.
“Let’s go home.”
“…Okay.”
Lucia gathered her things, took her handbag, and left the library. Side by side they walked toward the main gate.
Come to think of it, Ciriel’s gotten tall too.
Lucia glanced up at her friend, who now stood a full head taller. The difference forced her to keep looking up.
Shiron’s tall, Ciriel’s tall—why am I the only one…?
“Ah…”
In the middle of that useless train of thought, something she had completely forgotten struck her. The click of her shoes stopped dead.
Did I… ever tell her Shiron had arrived?
“Hm? What’s wrong?”
Ciriel spun around toward the frozen Lucia. Lucia looked awkwardly at her friend silhouetted against the sunset. Ciriel was not the smiling type, yet today she had been smiling the whole time. She had never been talkative either, but today she had been even quieter.
Don’t tell me…
Goosebumps rose on Lucia’s arms despite the mild spring air. She had sensed for some time how badly her friend wanted to see Shiron. Even if it had been an honest slip, the guilt was not small.
“C-Ciriel.”
“Yeah?”
“There’s something I forgot to tell you. Shiron came to the annex yesterday at dawn.”
“…What?”
“I wasn’t trying to hide it, okay? Everything was so chaotic I just… didn’t manage to—”
“It happens.”
Ciriel cut her off with a radiant smile, then turned sharply and walked toward the front gate.
“…Huh?”
Surprise made Lucia hesitate a beat too long. Watching Ciriel’s back grow distant, she hurried after her.
She quickened her pace to catch up. Was Ciriel angry because she hadn’t said anything sooner? Ciriel, who always walked beside her, was now striding ahead without a single glance back, and unease prickled at Lucia’s chest.
After trailing her for a while, Lucia spotted the carriage waiting at the gate. It was painted entirely black; an elderly gentleman stood beside it.
“Please step inside.”
“…Yes.”
Ciriel accepted the coachman’s greeting with perfect composure and moved to board. But she couldn’t.
The door swung open to reveal a young man already seated in the space that should have been empty. He looked at Ciriel with a bright, cheerful smile.
“…Oppa?”
Ciriel froze in front of the carriage. Shiron was inside. Time had erased almost every trace of the boy she remembered, yet she knew at a glance that the black-haired youth was him.
“Hey.”
Shiron waved at the statue-still Ciriel.
“What are you doing? Aren’t you getting in?”
“…”
“Shiron?”
Lucia, checking the interior a second later, went wide-eyed. So did Ciriel. She had known he was in Rihnn, had even practiced what she would say when they met—yet now that the moment had crashed down on her unprepared, she had no idea what words to use.
Stay calm. If I cry or throw myself at him after so long, I’ll look like a little kid.
Without a word she dropped onto the seat to Shiron’s left. She had come within a hair of rushing into his arms. After all the effort she had put into leaving that childish image behind, she was not about to ruin it. Ciriel was grateful that her body and mind could still act nonchalant even in a situation this shocking.
Once Lucia sat opposite them, Shiron rapped the wall and the carriage started moving.
“You’re not even surprised?”
He turned toward Ciriel, who was pressed flush against his side. Seeing his cousin after so long, he found her exactly as he remembered.
She had inherited Hugo’s height, yet not excessively so—about a head taller than Lucia. Lined up the three of them would probably form a neat staircase of one head each.
“Oppa… did you want me to be surprised?”
Ciriel asked carefully. Between silver hair that caught the light with a reddish sheen, her blue eyes looked suspiciously moist.
“Would it make you happy if I, like, totally flipped out?”
“…Not especially.”
“Hmph…”
Then she locked both arms tightly around his left arm. Shiron flinched.
“I was actually shocked. But the wanting-to-see-you part was so much bigger that… I just couldn’t manage the whole startled act.”
“….”
The girl who no longer looked like a mischievous child had a grip like iron. But that was not why Shiron had gone rigid.
…Her chest.
Even through the white blazer the soft fullness was unmistakable. Two layers of fabric, yet he could still feel the springy give beneath.
An obvious ploy.
Both Shiron and Lucia, watching, understood at once that the move had been deliberate.
And the obvious ploy worked perfectly. In that brief span Ciriel had driven home to everyone present that she was no longer a child.