The Club of Reversed Social Cues - 2

Having been impeached by her own members and, in the same breath, installed as her own successor, Luise found herself trapped in an endless loop of the same ever after. The reasons were nothing special. The weather was nice. The cookies hadn't turned out quite right. There were too many crumbs. Today's biscuits had come out rather well. Things of that sort.

In that fashion, within a mere two weeks of the new term, Luise set the grand record of seven consecutive terms as president of the Baking Club. And tomorrow, the impeachment of the Seventh President and the inauguration of the Eighth were already on the schedule. At this point, wasn't it just a daily quest?

Changing presidents meant rewriting the club roster, which was a hassle, but since it had been Luise from the first generation straight through to now, I had simply left it alone. It was nothing more than the antics of teenagers; there was no real reason to stop them.

"With the members' friendship growing so deep, as their advisor I find myself rather pleased."

Watching friendship bloom even amid such pranks wasn't so bad.

It was a slightly strange sort of friendship, but what of it? Far better the childish camaraderie of six than a five-way love rivalry aimed at one person.

"Everyone seems to be approaching the new term with fresh resolve."

Villar nodded lightly in agreement.

If the members started nursing grudges while competing in love, the scale of the trouble would grow. Imagine the chaos if a prince, a royal heir, and a saint candidate all began to hate one another.

And once that chaos started, some poor subordinate would get chewed out over how he had managed the higher-ups. Unfortunately, those subordinates would be Villar and me.

So their present state—having given up on love—was better. At least the chance of us being ground up in the emotional wars of our superiors had vanished.

"I almost look forward to how they'll surprise us next."

"I share the sentiment. I already find myself waiting for next year."

Outwardly it was light conversation with easy smiles, but the feelings beneath were anything but light.

Still too much to hope for, I suppose.

Since they had all been rejected by Luise, the romance had vanished from this romance fantasy. I had harbored a faint hope that they might leave the Academy over it. If those kids went home early, that would ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠certainly count as surprising me. So I had probed a little.

And Villar had answered with the equivalent of "You'll see for yourself next year," making it clear that early return was off the table. Well, I had expected as much. Disappointing, but expected.

They didn't come because of Luise, after all.

It was true that the power of the original work had gathered the members at the Academy. But this place was not only the setting of some story—it was also a real world where people lived their lives.

Realistically, would people of royal blood have come to the Academy just to see a Luise whose face, name, and very existence they had never known? Whatever their reasons, each had come to the Academy for his own purposes and met Luise there.

So being rejected by Luise was no reason to go home. It had never been an enrollment for her sake in the first place. Returning now would only stick them with the title: Fled after getting dumped by a girl.

So I have to watch until graduation, then.

Still, better to think positively. Looking at the current atmosphere, at least there wouldn't be anything as nightmarish as a second part after graduation.

Just grit my teeth and endure a little longer. They wouldn't be pulling troll stunts trying to impress Luise anymore. I wouldn't have to watch the five of them check each other and make zero progress, either.

Villar seemed to share the thought; when our eyes met, he gave a resolute nod. Let's hang in there together.

Should I drop out?

That was the conclusion I had reached after long, careful thought. The urge to quit was surging up inside me.

What on earth is going on here?

A hollow laugh escaped on its own. What were the odds of things flowing this way? I at least understood it was a probability no ordinary person would ever encounter in a lifetime.

The odds of falling in love at the Academy: high. The odds of having four competitors: reasonably high. The odds of every last competitor outranking me in status: not low. The odds of all five of us, myself included, getting rejected at once: not zero.

And then, after ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠clearing every probability listed above, the odds that the person I had loved would have feelings for my older brother: vanishingly small. Infinitely close to zero.

And yet here we are.

But that near-zero probability had hit. If I had known, I would have bought land instead. A gold mine probably would have turned up. The odds were about the same, weren't they?

The feeling defied words. Just because I liked someone didn't mean they had to like me back. The competition hadn't been weak, so I had prepared myself.

If Luise rejected me, I would be disappointed and sad, but I had tried to accept it. Luise was a precious friend, too. That was what I had clearly told myself.

But my brother getting tangled up in it—that I had neither prepared for nor imagined. Anyone who foresaw this situation should have their mental state examined.

"It's complicated..."

I muttered alone in my frustration. There was no one listening anyway, so I could have cursed if I wanted.

At first I had thought it was a surprise party. That was how absurdly bewildering the whole thing had been. And matching that bewilderment, I had no idea how to act going forward. What expression should I wear looking at Luise, and how should I treat my brother?

If it had been anyone other than my brother, it would have been fine. I had already shaken off my lingering feelings, so I was confident I could sincerely congratulate Luise no matter who she ended up with.

But if Luise connected with my brother, I would fall into the grotesque situation of having my first love as my sister-in-law. And Luise would ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠end up having dumped the Young Master, too. Would either of us even be able to breathe for the awkwardness?

Brother doesn't seem to know.

My brother was the one who had drawn a line with Lady Margeta and only recently begun growing close to her. I doubted a brother like that was aware of Luise's feelings.

A sigh came out on its own. If my brother had deliberately captivated Luise, I would have at least gotten angry. I would have grabbed him by the collar and demanded what the hell he thought he was doing.

But I knew full well that wasn't the case. My brother didn't know about Luise's heart; if anything, he had wanted me and Luise to work out. The help he had given me hadn't been small, either.

So how could I resent him? My brother had tried for his younger brother's sake, and the younger brother had simply ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠lacked the ability and failed. That was all.

It'll work out somehow.

Thinking wouldn't produce answers, so I set the thoughts aside. Right. It would work out somehow.

It wasn't even confirmed that Luise would end up with my brother, was it? If I fretted like this and nothing happened, I would only embarrass myself.

...Still, I shouldn't forget to carry a withdrawal form with me. Keep it on my person, ready to sprint to the main building and submit it if things went south.

Am I going to end up like Brother?

Brothers side by side, entering official posts at seventeen. The Crassius family truly was a house of loyal subjects.

Haha. Damn it.

Time to sleep.

It had been a long time since I had used the communication orb for personal rather than official purposes.

"I've been taking everything you sent, every last bit."

And with the other party being Mother, it felt even stranger. Until now, whenever I had something to tell the family, I had contacted the steward or the head of servants. This was the first time I was calling Mother directly instead of going through the two of them.

That peculiar awkwardness made me hesitate a moment, but I had promised Mother I would stay in touch going forward, so I ended up placing the call. It wasn't even a difficult thing; breaking even such a small promise would have felt a little off.

I had been a little surprised when she answered almost the instant I connected.

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Ah, yes."

In any case, Mother kept pouring out words full of concern and well-wishes.

Be careful of this, be careful of that, careful of this too, careful of that as well.

Where exactly am I supposed to be right now?

Listening to Mother's stream of cautions left me confused. Had I been working in hell? Why were there so many things I needed to be careful of?

In a way hell wasn't entirely wrong, but this was a bit much.

"I understand. Thank you for worrying about me."

Still, it was a mother's heart fretting over her son, so I listened in silence. Look at it differently. I was making up for the contact I had failed to keep these past few years. Reaping what I had sown.

Having talked on and on, Mother brought up Erich. Why was she asking me about Erich?

This bastard—had he seriously not contacted Mother?

Hard to blame him, I suppose.

I nearly welled up at my younger brother's blazing show of filial piety, but the moment Erich's condition came to mind, it settled right back down.

Erich probably wasn't in the mood to talk with anyone else right now. With fellow club members who shared the same sorrow, maybe—but the idea of contacting Mother wouldn't even occur to him.

In truth, watching him snicker right after getting dumped made him look completely fine, but no one knew what was going on inside. He might look intact on the outside while rotting away within.

Should I tell her?

I seriously debated it. Should I mention that he had been dumped?

Even during the break, Mother had hoped Erich would find someone he clicked with at the Academy. Of course she would be curious about her son's romantic situation.

At the time I hadn't been able to bring myself to say, "Erich does have someone he likes, but he's the weakest among the competitors, so..." and had let it pass. Now, though, they weren't competitors—they had become comrades rejected on the same day at the same hour.

"Mother... about that."

After some thought, I carefully opened my mouth.

It was Erich's private life, after all. As long as Erich himself didn't speak up, it was fine if Mother didn't know.

But if Mother, knowing nothing, started asking Erich romance-related questions, it would be like pouring salt on the wound. Of course that was something the person keeping the secret had to bear, but still—having the pain of a first heartbreak dredged up by Mother's own hands was simply too cruel.

"The thing is..."

Of course, I would have to ask her not to let it show in front of Erich.