Yozora Is an Idiot (3)
A spy, hidden inside the academy.
I'd heard somewhere, in passing, that any large villain alliance kept at least one planted. This woman, it seemed, had been the one filling that role. But why go out of her way to bring up Yozora to me, of all people, and lay her identity bare? Had she been certain it would be fine? Or was it confidence — a dare for me to try something? Why take on that kind of risk and reveal herself in the first place? Because each of us held the other's secret, and she'd decided that made it safe?
...Sitting here turning it over wasn't going to produce an answer.
I crumpled the note she'd handed me, threw it away, and propped my chin on the infirmary desk to study the woman seated across from me.
Deep navy hair in a neat hime cut, falling in a clean line all the way to her waist. A tidy uniform with every button fastened to the collar — no fleece thrown over it the way a certain someone did. A face with hardly any makeup. And yet, set in those rather attractive catlike eyes, pupils of a deep blue-green, as if they were holding a tidal wave.
Some Transcendents had the colors of their bodies change according to their ability. Lee Jiyoon's snow-white hair, from handling ice, was one example. So Baek Seoyeon was probably a Transcendent tied to water — and, at the same time, a woman standing on the opposite side from the heroes. And at the same time again, a Transcendent strong enough to serve as student council president of an academy packed with monsters.
"......"
The finger that had been tapping the desk came to a brief stop. I'd dug hard through old memories and still couldn't place her. Probably because she wasn't a hero.
"Teacher."
"Ah. Yes."
Baek Seoyeon was the one to speak first. I'd been sunk in thought; I answered her with the smile wiped off my face. If she'd been an ordinary student, I would have laughed it off and steered us into some light chatter — I'm not a teacher, I'm a Health Committee Member — but there was no need for that in front of her. Even so, she was still insisting on teacher. She must have been wary of some other student walking in.
"It's nothing major. I came because there's something I wanted to ask you..."
Trailing off, Baek Seoyeon drew the phone from inside her uniform and set it on the infirmary desk. An old model, by the look of it — about three years behind whatever was current. The exact opposite of Yozora's. Her fingers moved across the screen.
"......"
She was even using polite speech on there. Unexpected, if I wanted to call it that. After that odd little impression, I nodded. Writing out something she could just as easily have said, and showing it to me on purpose, meant one thing: don't use your voice.
At that, Baek Seoyeon began talking about the various villain crimes that had been coming up on the news lately. And along with the cover story, another line appeared on the screen.
"?"
I'd been following the tip of her finger line by line, and for a moment I just stared at Baek Seoyeon, blank. The student next to Yozora was Han Sua. Was she seriously asking because she didn't know? I tilted my head — not from ignorance, from pure bewilderment — and Baek Seoyeon's already stiff expression grew a shade more grave.
...I really couldn't tell why she was acting like that.
"Um... Student Council President? Is it all right if I call you that?"
"Call me whatever you like."
How was I supposed to let her know, naturally, that the girl was Han Sua? I worried over it for a second, then realized the worry was pointless and drew Baek Seoyeon's phone a little toward my side of the desk.
"......?"
This time it was Baek Seoyeon's head that tilted — the reverse of a moment ago. She cleared her throat, ahem, ahem, and for some reason started stealing glances at my face. After a stretch of eye contact I couldn't read at all, she suddenly picked up the phone and stood.
"...Excuse me."
"......"
One minute and thirty seconds, exactly. Baek Seoyeon had come in like a tidal wave, and receded the same way. My only impression was that she'd come all this way just to ask that one thing. And she left behind another — that, somehow, just a little, she didn't seem very bright.
She's Han Sua?
...Seriously?
No — her job was to interfere, to keep the girl from graduating. That was the role, wasn't it? So what reason could she possibly have to get close, even before the entrance ceremony...
"Nngh..."
Why.
Baek Seoyeon, suffering through the throb in her skull, let out a small groan. She'd known for a long time that Yozora drank herself stupid and did strange things. But if she was going to turn around and do the exact opposite of the job she was being paid for, then what was anyone supposed to do with her?
"Hah..."
Alcohol. That damned alcohol was the enemy. A few days ago, out of nowhere and in broad daylight, she'd called in a slurred voice and gone on about the red string of fate, this and that. From the look of things, she'd lost it completely.
Think for one second and it's obvious. If Seo Woojin really were that fate or whatever-it-was, why would he be working here as the health teacher? You empty-headed idiot.
Half a lament over alcoholic Yozora's stupidity. Half a worry over what would happen if that same Yozora wrecked the job entirely. And pinched in beside those, a thin thread of anxiety: what if she herself got dragged into it?
From a stress she hadn't felt in a long while, Baek Seoyeon bit the tip of her tongue as she walked, then let out a deep sigh and returned to the student council room. A guest who hadn't been there earlier was waiting. A male student sprawled on the sofa, busy with a handheld game, was the star of the scene. He rolled over in a languid flop and asked, shameless as anything.
"Senior, you're back?"
"...Yes."
He was the vice president of Miren Academy's student council, currently a second-year. Less because his ability was any good, and more a council member elected on a popularity vote among the girls. The student council had always been, to some extent, an extension of a popularity contest — but once responsibility had been handed to you, you were supposed to do the work. Baek Seoyeon had thought that was simply what responsibility meant. Thanks to him, she'd learned there were people for whom it wasn't.
If she could have cut ties and formed them as she pleased, she wouldn't have had to exchange a single word with him before graduation. So why was she worried about the future of Miren Academy's student council? Had she grown fond of them somewhere between first year and second?
...A useless feeling.
Putting the cold student council president's mask back on as usual, Baek Seoyeon walked, heels clicking, toward the documents she'd gathered earlier.
"Oh. I saw that slip you made at the entrance ceremony."
"......"
"You were really cute. Not like usual."
"...Thanks."
Unpleasant bastard. She answered with words she didn't mean, her eyes fixed the whole time on the papers. Let's see. The vending-machine documents from before she'd stopped by the infirmary didn't seem like information worth reporting...
"Want me to help?"
"No."
Right beside her as she looked the documents over again — the vice president's voice, from the chair he'd pulled out. It happened often enough that she wasn't surprised. Only unpleasant. The way a person could never get used to the smell of food waste.
"Why not? I just want to score some points with you, Senior."
"Go do that with the second-years who like you."
"Ah, there it is again. You drop the honorifics every now and then."
"Please go do that with the second-years who like the vice president."
"A little late to cover it. I already heard you."
"Hah.... So. What do you want."
When she glared at him with her usual indifferent look, what came back was a grin. Objectively speaking, yes — he was good-looking. Set aside the single fact that he was shorter than Baek Seoyeon, who stood a little over five foot seven, and there wasn't much he lacked on the outside. If someone's type ran to cute men, they might well like a man like that.
Baek Seoyeon's tastes were rather different. If she had to put a name to them... the Seo Woojin she'd seen earlier was a little closer. She felt slightly sorry for Yozora, who had gone so far as to talk about a red string of fate while nursing a one-sided crush on him. Still, it wasn't as if she liked him. It only meant her tastes ran that way.
"I found a decent pasta place the other day. Want to go together this evening—"
"I have a pasta allergy."
"Aha. You told me last time and I forgot. Then what else is there... How about sushi?"
"I don't like raw food."
"It's still early March and the weather hasn't warmed up. Shabu-shabu, then?"
"Cooked isn't particularly appealing either."
"Then that leaves barbecue... Hmm..."
"......"
She turned down every single one and kept reading, and the vice president's blatant gaze crept, unhurried, over her face, her collarbones, and lower still.
...Hah.
Why was a man that rude so popular with women? Really just because of his face? Or because, past the face, they didn't know what kind of person he was? Maybe it was something like stanning an idol for the looks, rather than whether the songs were any good.
In the end she jabbed him between the eyebrows with the back of the pen in her hand and drove him off. Leech disposed of, Baek Seoyeon watched him flop back onto the sofa, snickering as he picked his game up again, and let out a sigh.
My questions about Baek Seoyeon didn't have long to run.
Ten in the morning. Around the time first period was ending, students started trickling into the infirmary.
"Where does it hurt?"
"I twisted my left ankle during training earlier..."
"Where does it hurt?"
"My fingers. My whole right hand. I met up with a friend who'd been out on a practicum at another agency, first time in a while, and we sparred — he'd come back way stronger than I thought..."
"Where does it hurt?"
"I, um... My ankle's a little, too..."
"...There's nothing particularly wrong with it?"
"Y-yes? Ah, um, well..."
From the reasons they gave, they were mostly second- and third-years. Which was only natural. The first-years today were just being assigned personal lockers, introduced once more to the active heroes, and sent on their way. Training. Spars. A student asking to be cured of a cold caught outside. And, for reasons I couldn't fathom, a student faking it. No need to have them wait on a bed — I sat them in the chair in front of me and treated them quickly. And then—
"...?"
Behind the faker, whose ankle I was checking a little longer just in case, a familiar black ponytail tilted in a puzzled lean. What. I hadn't heard the door. Had I been too focused to catch it?
"......"
Hi.
Lee Hayun shaped the word with her lips and offered a careful greeting with her eyes. She could have just said that much out loud. Probably because there was someone else in front of me. So this was what dating in secret felt like... For a moment I caught, faintly, that itchy little thrill of conquest I'd wanted for so long.
Just as I was about to send the faker away so I could talk to Lee Hayun, two ordinary-looking girls came in behind her. More patients, I thought — but neither of them looked particularly uncomfortable. They were only whispering with Lee Hayun, who'd come in first, and looking at my face. Curious about the new health teacher, they'd trailed after her. They had the excuse ready: we just came along because our friend isn't feeling well. Hah... if only the principal hadn't introduced me in that strange way.
"...Are you all right now, then?"
"Yes...! Um, I think I imagined it..."
"It happens."
I had no idea how it could happen, but I offered the faker some vague sympathy and sent her off. When I glanced at Lee Hayun — busy acting as if we were nothing to each other — she sat down in front of me, working her lips like she had a great deal to say. The effort she was putting into looking natural was, itself, quite unnatural.
"Where does it hurt?"
"...Um, my wrist, a little..."
"Your wrist."
Don't tell me Lee Hayun was faking too. The thought crossed my mind for a second, but it was unfounded. Her left wrist was swollen enough to see with the naked eye. Better, in its way, than the injuries I'd been looking at over break... and still a long road ahead of her. Even so, it was proof she was growing, little by little, and that put me in a good mood. Someday, I hoped, she'd become a hero with a number beside her name. And in an interview on TV, she'd smile bright the way she always did. I'd have that interview blasting at full volume right beside her, and I'd pound her until she passed out from the pleasure.
"Are you all right now?"
"...Yeah. I mean— yes."
Lee Hayun answered out of habit, then switched at once to polite speech. I gave her fingers a gentle squeeze — affection, hidden from her friends — and the hand that had been lying open closed around mine, as if it refused to lose. A tiny, twitching grip. Cute. She wanted so badly to play the noona, and yet was she allowed to be this cute?
After that bit of contact, which hadn't even lasted ten seconds, I finally couldn't help letting a small smile slip. Only then did Lee Hayun come to her senses, face gone gasp, and pull her hand away.
"Th-thank you...!"
"It's nothing. It's what I'm supposed to—"
She didn't even hear me out. Lee Hayun shot up, grabbed her friends by the wrists, and fled the infirmary as if she were escaping — never noticing the younger sister waiting outside the door.
Whoosh.