The Magical Girl Prodigy from the Next Class Boldly Came to Befriend Me (2)
“Pretty impressive, huh?”
The exams had just wrapped up. The written test took me less than ten minutes to finish every question, and the practical exam was a breeze—aside from the cold sweat I broke trying to distribute my nearly nonexistent mana as efficiently as possible. The difficulty was exactly what you’d expect for incoming freshmen.
Clap, clap.
The sound of applause echoed through the room. The principal’s clapping was probably meant to praise me for acing the test, but for some strange reason, it sounded different to my ears. Even when I used to perform silly tricks for the grandparents at the nursing home as a kid, it never felt this off.
Was it just plain embarrassment? Or some kind of discomfort I couldn’t quite place?
I looked at the woman who kept clapping while watching me. Her eyes were full of smiles. They looked kind and gentle—nothing strange about them at all to anyone else. And yet I felt an indescribable sense of unease.
Maybe it was because her lips didn’t curve up as much as her eyes. Or perhaps it was the atmosphere she gave off. Or maybe it was the subtle weight that came with the title of principal.
I gave up thinking about it. To think my old paranoia from Magica—where my life was constantly on the line—was flaring up again. I was just an ordinary academy student now. Besides, this was the same person who had enthusiastically jumped on an idea that Jihye had thrown out without much thought.
I reminded myself that she was the eccentric who had launched magic spells over the freshmen’s heads in the middle of the entrance ceremony, then looked at her again. This time, I saw nothing odd about her at all.
Yeah. Right. She’s a crazy person to begin with, so of course she’d feel a little strange.
“As expected, you’re incredibly talented. Now I understand why Jihye pushed so hard for your special admission.”
“…Special admission?”
“Oh, you didn’t know? Hmm… I suppose I’ve said something I shouldn’t have.”
What the hell. I had no idea there was a whole behind-the-scenes story like this. I’d just assumed I got in without any entrance exam. I suddenly worried that Jihye might have abused her authority. She worked at the academy’s education… something-or-other department, right?
The so-called parachute admission. Or string-pulling. If I weren’t just a simple freshman, this kind of thing could lead to a pay cut or even suspension instead of just a written warning. In education-obsessed South Korea, special admissions granted for improper reasons could cause a massive scandal.
At the principal’s revelation that my little sister had pulled off something this outrageous, I couldn’t help but let out a deep sigh.
“Oh dear. My mouth really does run away from me. Could you keep this a secret from your sister Jihye?”
“…Okay.”
“Thank you. Lately I’ve been getting older and spouting more nonsense than I’d like. I keep trying to fix it, but it just won’t stop.”
The principal laughed brightly, but her appearance didn’t look anywhere close to forty. At most, she seemed to be in her mid-thirties. Actually, she looked even younger than that. It felt less like the miracle of modern beauty treatments and more like she was acting far older than her actual age for no good reason.
If I assumed she was in her early thirties, we’d basically be the same age. Which would mean I was also being treated like an old person. Of course, to someone in their thirties, teenagers probably all looked like children, so I supposed it made sense…
“Now that I think about it, aren’t you disappointed?”
“About… what?”
For a split second, thinking of her as a peer almost made me drop the polite speech. People’s perceptions really were terrifying.
“You took second place in the sparring exam, didn’t you? It seemed like it was by the narrowest of margins.”
Ah. So that’s what she meant. Well, outside guests had attended the sparring test, so of course the principal would have watched too.
“Narrowest of margins? She was just better than me, so the result was obvious.”
“Hmm… was it really not that close? Now that I think about it, the gap seems even wider. Almost like this?”
The principal smiled and glanced toward one side of the training room. There, a row of targets stood with perfectly centered hits. The grouping had been achieved by using the absolute minimum amount of mana and infusing only the smallest trace of magical power possible. Most people might overlook it, but anyone with real experience would notice that I had struck each target with exactly the minimum force the test required.
If it had been just one target, it could have been dismissed as coincidence. Unfortunately, every single one showed the same result.
Damn it. Maybe I should have hidden my strength a little more. I had been so eager to finish quickly and go back to sleep in the infirmary that I hadn’t even thought this through. I was turning into an idiot, and the scary part was that it didn’t feel like my imagination.
“Huuu… Principal, I’m really sleepy. Can I go rest in the infirmary now?”
“You must be quite exhausted. Finishing both tests in under an hour would tire anyone out. Mm-hmm.”
I stretched and yawned at the same time. It wasn’t an act to change the subject—this yawn came straight from the heart. I didn’t know how the principal interpreted my display of fatigue, but she seemed willing to play along. She led me out of the practice room.
Through the closing door, I caught a glimpse of the destroyed targets from the exam. I wondered who would clean them up. Not my problem, so I decided not to think about it.
We left the practice room behind and walked down the hallway toward the infirmary. My original plan had been to go there alone and relax, but the principal stayed right by my side. It felt like she still had more to say.
Sure enough, she soon opened her mouth.
“How are you finding life at the academy?”
“It’s… fine.”
If nothing happens, I just sleep all day. Compared to my school days, this was practically luxurious.
“Your body doesn’t make things too difficult?”
“Everyone’s been so accommodating that I’d call this a life of luxury.”
“Puhuhu. Is that so?”
The principal chuckled as if something about that was very funny.
“Actually, I’ve been keeping an eye on you for quite some time.”
“…Me?”
“Yes. Jihye isn’t the type to ask for favors like that, but every time we meet, she goes on and on about how I should please look after you.”
“Ah… I see.”
So she hadn’t only talked to the teachers. If she was saying that much to the principal, I could tell just how worried Jihye was about me.
“And then there was that incident on the day of the entrance ceremony.”
“That?”
“No matter how strong their nerves are, new students are still new students. Even if they try to stay calm, they can’t completely hide the turmoil in their hearts. The same was true for the prodigy.”
The principal stopped walking for a moment and looked at me.
“But you’re the first freshman I’ve seen during my time as principal who handled the situation with such practiced skill, as if you’d experienced it many times before.”
She put strange emphasis on the word practiced. It was as if she were watching for my reaction.
Because she was staring at me so intently, the paranoia I had tried to ignore earlier reared its head again. But I couldn’t tell whether my suspicion was justified. The senses I relied on were becoming harder and harder to trust.
To read someone’s true intentions, you had to carefully observe their facial expressions, body language, tone, and inflection. Yes, those things that language teachers called paralinguistic and non-verbal cues. They were far more sensitive and delicate than words, making them difficult to notice.
But for someone like me who was constantly half-asleep, picking up on those subtle differences was nearly impossible. Or rather, it used to be possible. Lately, I’d begun to doubt myself.
Once the suspicion that I couldn’t trust my own senses took root in my mind, this was the result. And the cause of that suspicion was everything I had experienced so far.
I had come to realize just how easily sleep could distort and misinterpret a person’s senses. That was why I couldn’t tell whether the principal was simply speaking without thinking, or if she was deliberately steering the conversation in a certain direction because she wanted something from me.
It was entirely possible that I was misreading her expression or tone. After all, she might have simply been genuinely impressed by my professional-level composure.
“We’ve already reached the infirmary. I’ll let Nurse Seoyeon know, so you can rest comfortably.”
“Thank you, Principal.”
“I wanted to talk with you a little longer… What a shame.”
The principal wore an expression of deep regret at our parting. Just as I’d thought earlier, I couldn’t tell if she was truly disappointed or not.
“Still, we’ll have another chance to talk. Let’s have a proper conversation next time, shall we?”
“Alright… Goodbye.”
The principal turned to leave.
“Oh, that’s right. I almost forgot to say this.”
She suddenly spun back around as if she had just remembered something. With a gentle smile, she spoke softly.
“It seems a little bird has taken quite a liking to you. It used to prefer the prodigy student. Could it be an old connection from the past?”
Having said her piece, she turned and disappeared down the hallway.
To an ordinary student, it would have sounded like some vague metaphor. But to me, the meaning and intent behind those words were crystal clear.
It looked like my senses were still accurate after all.
I kept staring in the direction the principal had gone and spoke.
“Salbyeol.”
“Y-yes… Cosmo-nim.”
“How long have you been here?”
“From… from the moment the test started, yoyo.”
The long-tailed tit—no, Salbyeol—appeared as the transparent veil lifted. He looked utterly dejected, wings folded timidly as he perched on my shoulder.
“Do you know who that woman is?”
“I don’t know, yoyo. No matter how much I think about it, I can’t remember, yoyo.”
“Is there a magical girl on Earth who can sense mascots?”
“If someone had as deep a knowledge of magic as you, Cosmo-nim, they might be able to detect my concealment… but honestly, I don’t think the magical girls on Earth are at that level, yoyo.”
Salbyeol flapped his wings as he spoke, as if defending the integrity of his hiding magic.
“The principal, huh…”
“Since she’s the academy’s principal, maybe she has exceptional magical ability, yoyo?”
“That’s what I was thinking too.”
Hmm.
“Ugh, I’m sleepy.”
“What? Don’t tell me… it’s happening again, yoyo?”
He had sensed something ominous in my casual remark. Since I had already pulled this once before, he caught on immediately.
I glared at Salbyeol and said, “You’ve been listening next to me the whole time. You should know I’m actually tired.”
“I thought it was just an act to avoid the principal’s questioning, yoyo!”
Even when he protested so fiercely, I didn’t budge.
“Come find me again at lunchtime. Yawn. I’m going to sleep.”
“But what am I supposed to do if you sleep again this time, yoyo!”
Leaving behind Salbyeol’s cries of despair, I surrendered myself to sleep. The infirmary bed was warm and cozy. Not quite as good as home, but close enough.
As for the principal… I could think about that later. There was no rush.
…Zzz.