Entrance Ceremony (2)
It was about two years after the possession that I realized this was the world of a novel.
Honestly, it wasn't a particularly enjoyable novel. I dropped it around chapter 20, after all. And the character I'd possessed? I'd never even heard the name before.
So at first, I thought I'd been reincarnated into another world. I only retained memories of my life on Earth, and I'd become an entirely different person.
One thing was certain: even if I'd realized the possession a little earlier, nothing would have changed.
The moment I figured it out about the possession? The war had already broken out.
A letter arrived for me, a deacon at a small church in a rural village.
It was a draft notice. They were conscripting me as a military chaplain.
To be frank, I wasn't too worried. Like the protagonists in the novels I'd read before, I had a pretty special talent.
Divine Power purer than other priests', and exceptional healing abilities based on it. That was my gift. So I got arrogant. There would be plenty of people in need on the battlefield, and I could use my powers for good. That arrogance.
Back then, I was an idiot swollen with inexplicable pride.
Good intentions can sometimes twist into arrogance. My decision was undoubtedly a noble one, and that only made the arrogance snowball.
People praising me endlessly, living a protagonist-like life from some novel. It was the fantasy born from my arrogance and vanity.
And so, with the lightest of hearts—foolishly light—I answered the draft.
Looking back now, I shouldn't have. I should have refused conscription. Even if it meant rotting in prison, at least I could have lived like a human.
The ear-shattering boom of artillery fire is still vivid. Limbs tearing apart right in front of my eyes. Rats soaked in blood, poking their heads out of corpses' eye sockets. Those images remain crystal clear.
Before the possession, back on Earth, there had been this massive thing called World War. Of course, I only knew it from history books—I'd never experienced it. I was born in an era after the wars had ended.
The peace of our time. Peace ruled by absolute power. I'd grown complacent, lazy in it.
That's why it might be especially hard for me.
For me, who survived the great war in this novel's world. Those six years of hell.
The more desperately I clung to this hellish life, the more suffocating it felt. The more medals pinned to my chest, the tighter they strangled my throat.
To me, it felt unbearably heavy.
The entrance ceremony wrapped up around noon.
The freshmen scattered to explore their dorms and classrooms, while the upperclassmen headed to the library or training grounds—minus exams loomed for the first semester. Freshmen were exempt, but not the returners.
"…Lively, huh."
Through the window, I caught a glimpse of the training grounds already claimed by upperclassmen deep in practice. Staring blankly at the vibrant scene, I drew the blinds and slowly surveyed the dimmed office.
A desk and chair for work. A communication magic orb tucked in one corner. Tall bookshelves, a sofa, a table. The furnishings were elegantly adorned, lending dignity to the sparse room.
Thoroughly professional, yet welcoming enough for guests. Quite satisfactory. It really drove home that this was an academy novel world.
I spaced out like that for a good while. To keep stray thoughts at bay, emptying my mind and zoning out was best.
For me, stray thoughts meant agony bad enough to make me wish for death.
— Knock knock knock.
A knock interrupted my solitude. My lips twitched downward.
— "Professor. It's me. The one from the bench earlier."
"…Come in."
The academy bench encounter—must be that female professor from when I'd slipped into a panic. Rejection hit first.
I didn't show that side often. And I didn't want others seeing it.
…Well, no helping it.
Forcing a wry smile, I went to the door myself and opened it. Not exactly a welcome guest.
"Pardon the intrusion…."
Navy-blue braided hair, a pointed hat and staff in hand. Her slightly disheveled robe slipped off one shoulder. Deer-like purple eyes, shining like the night sky, fixed on me.
Yeah, the professor from the bench. Spotting me at the door, she smiled brightly and bowed slightly.
"Y-you looked unwell since the bench earlier… I got worried and came to check."
"Ahaha…."
"Oh, Professor. Sorry. Too sudden, right?"
"…No."
I tried forcing a smile, but it wouldn't come. Gave up.
My stiff expression made her face fall a bit. Maybe she thought I wasn't happy to see her.
…Thinking about it, she wasn't wrong, so I didn't deny it.
"Have a seat here."
"Ah, thank you."
She sank into the plush sofa, then scanned the room with curious eyes.
"Hmm… I always think this, but theology professors keep their offices so modest."
"Haha… You're politely saying it looks shabby."
"Ah, no…! Not at all!"
She waved her hands frantically in denial. I gave a wry smile and poured tea.
"Nice aroma. What kind?"
"Just cheap black tea. Sorry."
"Ah, no! Black tea's great! I love it."
Slurp—.
She sipped the cheap black tea, winced, then chewed her lip like she was savoring it. Her pure, harmless innocence made me burst out laughing.
"Pfft."
"Ah…! S-sorry. That was unladylike."
"No."
Her gaze shifted to the nameplate on my desk. I closed my eyes, focusing on tasting the cheap tea.
"Professor Antonelli… Unusual name. From the Holy Nation?"
"Not me. My father."
"Ah…."
"If I may, your name…."
Her face soured abruptly. I blinked at her, clueless.
"You don't know my name?"
"…?"
"Esther. Esther Garrett. New illusion magic professor. We were together in the auditorium earlier…."
Come to think of it, yeah. I sipped my tea with a wry smile; she puffed her cheeks and turned away.
"You've just been drinking tea this whole time! After I worried so much!"
Now I recalled how she'd fussed over me at the bench. Remembering my less-than-warm reception earlier, guilt crept in.
"Sorry, Professor Garrett. Thanks for that then."
"Hmph. Good you know! …You sure you're not sick? You looked really bad."
"…A bit."
"…Hmm."
"Not enough for you to worry. Just personal stuff."
"Well, you know your own health better than I do."
A few exchanges, and her pout melted away. Then she started fidgeting with her fingers.
"And… you can call me Esther."
"…Pardon?"
"No, I mean…."
I could feel my face twisting in confusion without looking. Her face flushed crimson as she stammered, then sighed in defeat.
"…Truth is, I transferred from another academy. No familiar professors here… I'll be eating lunch alone…."
Her lips jutted out adorably. I chuckled.
"Lunch from tomorrow—let's eat together, Professor Esther."
"Ah…! Yes! So… Professor Lucio. Hehe…."
I'd never okayed her using my first name.
Whatever.
She seemed a bit quirky. Her beaming face suggested a naturally bright personality.
I closed my eyes again, savoring the tea. The bitter tang of cheap black tea lingered.
"Hmm… Professor Lucio must really love black tea. Want some premium leaves later? I have extras from gifts."
Opening my eyes, I met the deer-like gaze of Esther, sipping her own tea.
"…No need. It's not about the taste."
"Oh? Then…?"
"Professor Esther. Do you know they drink black tea even in the heart of a battlefield?"
She looked puzzled. I stared silently at my cup and continued.
"In the field, everything's scarce. Utensils, mana, even fuel for fire. At the front lines amid fierce combat, cooks preparing meals is unthinkable."
"Ah…."
"So we eat standard combat rations. Long shelf life, easy prep, no spoilage."
Tea leaves floated in the vast sea of cheap brew. I gazed blankly at them sailing along.
"Oddly, they even supplied black tea bags. With a bit of sugar cubes. Know why?"
"……."
"After a brutal battle, when you could finally breathe—we always had black tea. The bitter cheap stuff with tongue-numbingly sweet sugar. Just enjoying that luxury reminded me I was still human. On the battlefield, black tea was a stimulant."
Cheap-issue stuff, though. Saying it soured my mouth.
I set the cup down. Esther's eyes wavered. I met them steadily.
"Demons roam battlefields too. I've exorcised over five myself."
"Professor Lucio."
"Ever seen a person shredded to pieces? You'll never forget. And amid that, I drank tea."
Because sipping tea in such horror made me feel like a monster, not human.
So paradoxically, to cling to my shattered humanity, I drank tea. A way to escape hell for even a second.
That's what tea meant to me.
"…Professor Lucio. Did you fight in the great war?"
…Oops. I'd gone too heavy without thinking. I set down the cold cup.
"Just an old story. Sorry for the heavy topic."
I snapped out of it—and startled, her tear-filled eyes were right in my face. She'd scooted over to my sofa.
"Y-you surprised me. Haha…."
"Professor Lucio. From tomorrow, we eat together. Promise."
"Ah, sure."
She clung to my arm, murmuring fiercely. I nodded involuntarily.
No panic attack this time—lucky. I thought.
First day at the academy. Got someone to eat with.