Our Department Head Isn't Sick - 1
Out of the blue, a summons arrived from the Young Lady. Something important, she said—come as quickly as possible.
The fact that she had called for Irina as well made it clear this had to do with my older brother. The moment I received the Young Lady’s summons, I all but ran to her. Where Brother was concerned, I could not afford even a moment’s delay.
"Senior. May I come in?"
"Ah, you got here quickly. Come in."
I knocked carefully and spoke through the door; the Young Lady’s voice answered from the other side.
"Miss Irina is here too. Welcome."
Confirming that Irina and I had entered together, the Young Lady rose from her seat with a small smile.
She made her way naturally toward the shelf where the teapot sat. At first it had felt burdensome to have a member of a ducal house brew tea for us herself, but she insisted that as the host who had invited us, it was only proper—so I could not bring myself to intervene.
By now I had been through it enough times to be used to it. And though it felt a little odd to call it an exchange, whenever we visited the vice-president’s office I would bring cookies, and Irina a small potted plant or something of the sort, so it was a kind of barter in its own way.
"I’m sorry for calling you so suddenly."
"Not at all. We weren’t busy with anything, so it’s fine."
Irina answered the Young Lady’s apology at once.
Just as Irina said, with the closing ceremony right around the corner there was hardly anything urgent left. Final exam preparations remained, of course, but nothing so pressing that we would refuse a summons from the Young Lady.
"Heh. That’s a relief."
A soft little laugh. Yet that laugh only made tension stir and lift its head.
It was a laugh laced with faint worry. The Young Lady seemed to be trying not to show it, but she still could not hide her feelings completely.
"…I’m afraid this will take a little while to explain."
And with those words, certainty settled in.
This isn’t ordinary, is it.
The instinct that something serious had broken open. Tension wrapped my whole body; I quietly clenched my fists.
It was rare for the Young Lady herself to say a conversation would be long. Aside from the time she had explained the incident when Brother received a confession from the Magic Lord, I could hardly remember another.
"Yesterday Karl went up to the Imperial Capital and met with Her Excellency the Magic Lord."
Beside me I felt Irina’s body flinch.
I was surely the same. At this point in time, the most dangerous person imaginable—and Brother had gone to meet her in person. For what reason, and what conversation had passed between them—
"And they had a terrible fight, she says."
"…What?"
My mouth opened before my head could understand.
Fought with a duke…? Brother?
Why?
Confusion. But it was confusion that had come far too early.
"You see—"
The words that followed from the Young Lady left me unable to collect myself.
Lifespan extension. The Magic Lord’s sobbing and apology. Brother and the Magic Lord spending the night under the same roof. Then, as a sign of reconciliation, taking each other’s hands and going to the Magic Tower.
It was strange. I could not make sense of what I had heard. The Young Lady had explained it clearly enough for anyone to understand, and still I could not understand it.
"A little shaken, aren’t you?"
The Young Lady spoke with eyes that said she understood. I managed a nod. “A little” did not cover it, but shaken I most certainly was.
"Karl seems… even more shaken."
The slightly subdued voice lodged in my ear, and instinct told me at once.
This was it. This was why the Young Lady had sought us out.
"We have to—we have to hold Karl close."
As if the subdued tone of a moment ago had been a lie, the Young Lady looked at us with eyes full of resolve—as though we must carve into our hearts every word she was about to say.
Under that fierce spirit Irina and I steeled ourselves with grim determination—
And before long the three of us had dissolved into a scene of tears.
Time passed, and club hour arrived.
"Brother. Aren’t you tired? The wind is cold—your body might seize up."
"I’m fine. I’m not even wandering around outside."
"Still. Ah—let me at least massage your shoulders."
"No, really, I’m fi—"
Without waiting for Brother’s answer I set to work on his shoulders at once; he gave a sheepish laugh and, in the end, surrendered them to me.
And the more I kneaded, the more knots I felt everywhere.
He must have been under so much strain.
These knots were proof that Brother had suffered alone—the weight he had carried by himself in places we never saw, without anyone knowing.
"It isn’t as if Karl has nothing to worry about. No—he has far more to think about than we do."
"So much. Truly so much. Far more than we can even imagine. But he never spoke a word of those worries to anyone."
"And so—and so Karl is hurting right now. Just a little. A very little."
The resolute Young Lady’s eyes had reddened more with every word. Irina and I were no different.
Our confident, unshakable brother. The most reliable person in the world. For someone like that to be driven to the edge mentally and break…
No.
I hastily shook off the dreadful thought. What was I thinking? Brother had not broken. Just as the Young Lady said, he was only a little sick—just a very little.
Even the sturdiest person catches a cold, right? Sometimes you fall and scrape a knee, or twist an ankle.
That was all this was. Brother was sick on exactly that level.
"A joint wedding with all the brides…"
For an instant the Young Lady’s words floated up, but I deliberately let them pass. When a cold makes your head spin you can say strange things, can’t you?
We can hold him close.
Yes. We certainly could. And then Brother would be better in no time.
"Luise. I’m here."
While I was learning all too keenly what it meant for the tip of one’s nose to sting, the clubroom door opened and Irina poked her head in.
"Ah, Irina."
"Hello, Oppa."
When Brother greeted her warmly, Irina gave a bashful little smile.
Then her eyes met mine and she nodded with a serious look. She had come, just as I had, to treat the cold that had settled in Brother’s heart.
"The other members aren’t here?"
"They went out for foot volleyball."
At Brother’s answer Irina blinked, then looked at me again.
Under that gaze I could only smile awkwardly. They really had gone out for foot volleyball.
"We’ll be outside for a bit."
"Hm? Why all of a sudden?"
Erich, who had been shuffling the cards, spoke first—
"Later won’t admit that he’s the one who developed it."
"You never know until you measure long against short."
"Usually the one who says that turns out to be short."
—and Ryutis and Later took up the rest, filing out as a group as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
They didn’t have to be so considerate.
I thought I knew why, and felt apology and gratitude at the same time.
Because I had been hovering near Brother, because I had been looking at him with such frantic eyes, they had read the room and cleared out for us.
And on a cold day, no less—they had gone outside on purpose. The consideration was almost too much; I had no idea how I would repay it.
"──! ──!"
"──? ─!"
From the rear courtyard came the faint sounds of them playing with all their might, but still—they had left for my sake.
I decided it really wasn’t because of the foot volleyball. Yes. That couldn’t have been the real reason.
"Everyone’s full of energy."
"Lucky they burn it off on their own."
Brother answered Irina’s remark a little gruffly.
I laughed without meaning to. Truthfully, given Erich’s and Ryutis’s stamina, they could probably run all night and still be fine.
"If everyone’s out, will baking be hard? I brought some good tea."
"Ah—I’ll do it!"
"Take your time. We can drink the tea first."
Watching Irina set the bag she was carrying on the table, I hurriedly took out the bowls.
Good tea. Irina had said she would find something effective for calming the mind. From the confident way she had brought it, she must have found something truly decent.
"How is Oppa?"
Then Irina came up beside me and whispered quietly.
"I still can’t tell."
Embarrassing as it was, I had no choice but to answer that there had been no results.
Brother was not the sort to show strain even on ordinary days. If I had never heard that he had caught a cold of the heart, I would never have noticed a thing.
And that only made my chest hurt more. To be sick enough for the Young Lady to worry, and still not show it—how much must he have been suffering alone?
The saddest thing in the world is to hurt alone. To be sick with no one’s attention, no one’s concern—only yourself.
We can’t let this go wrong.
Even a small cold, left alone, turns into a serious flu. We could not let that happen to Brother.
"Still, if we keep watching, something will show."
"The closing ceremony is soon, though?"
At that I shut my mouth again.
Yes. That was the problem. The second semester was nearly over. The days we could still see Brother numbered fewer than a fortnight.
We needed to watch him up close. If Brother so much as coughed, we needed to soothe him at once.
At the most important time.
I resented Enen. Why make Brother sick at a time like this?
No—best of all would have been never getting sick, but if he had to fall ill anyway, he could at least have done it when there were plenty of nurses around.
"…Should we ask to visit the Imperial Capital again this time?"
I carefully offered the idea. What if, like last summer vacation, we stayed in the same mansion as Brother?
"Wouldn’t that be dangerous? Oppa needs to rest properly, and if we’re nearby he won’t be able to rest at all."
"Th-that’s true…?"
It was such a persuasive point that I withdrew the suggestion at once.
"For now, let’s at least attend the New Year’s Audience."
"Hm?"
While I was imagining a winter vacation spent apart from Brother—a winter that already felt unbearably cold—Irina put forward another idea.
The New Year’s Audience?
At the unexpected suggestion I simply stared at her blankly.
The New Year’s Audience. On the day the new year began, every titled noble of the Empire gathered before His Majesty the Emperor to reaffirm their loyalty and discuss the direction the Empire would take.
Because every titled noble assembled, it was the grandest social occasion in the Empire—yet the pressure and burden of that very fact meant that ordinary noble children mostly stayed away.
Nobles my age either remained on their estates entirely, or, if they had come up to the capital with their house heads, held private parties among themselves. That was what I had always known…
"We can attend the New Year’s Audience too. It isn’t mandatory—we just didn’t go. There was no reason to."
Having said that much, Irina glanced at Brother.
"But now there is a reason."
I followed her gaze to Brother. When our eyes met, he gave me a small smile.
Because he always treated us so warmly in the clubroom, I sometimes forgot—Brother was a department-head-level official. Even without a noble title, he was a high-ranking bureaucrat obligated to attend the New Year’s Audience.
"All right."
I finished my calculations and nodded at once.
Honestly, I was a little nervous. A gathering of exalted great nobles—dukes, marquises, counts. Until I inherited a title of my own, I had never wanted to go of my own free will.
But looking after Brother mattered more than my anxiety.
And if I was at Brother’s side, even standing before His Majesty the Emperor would be all right.
Luise and Irina were whispering about something with great intensity.
I can hear all of it.
Unfortunately, that “something” was entirely audible. Same room, and only the two of them present—no matter how quietly they spoke, every word carried. I was a martial artist who handled mana in my own right; my senses were sharp.
Have I made them worry too much?
I felt a little awkward. Apparently whatever I had said to Margeta had found its way to these two as well.
Fine, I admit it. Not only Margeta—Luise and Irina had every reason to worry after the things I said.
It was too radical.
Even the unconventional has to be unconventional in moderation if people are going to accept it. But my version of unconventional had been pure end-of-the-world, fin-de-siècle shock.
Margeta was soft-hearted enough to pretend to agree with me, but behind the scenes she must have fretted endlessly. I had realized that far too late.
I should have taken my time with it.
I had been too hasty. Even a vaccine has to have its strength adjusted and be given in multiple doses to work properly.
If you just haul off and hit someone at full power, you’re not a vaccine—you’re the virus.
I would reflect on this. A pioneer always has to be careful.