Even Big Shots Have Daily Lives - 6
Not a quiet conference room, but a bustling club room. Not lovers so precious you'd hate to let a speck of dust touch them, but club members I honestly wish would just leave the country already.
It was an environment more than capable of making anyone grab the back of their neck in stress—yet my heart was strangely at peace. Not long ago, these were the same kids I fretted over every time I left them alone, terrified of whatever disaster they might cause. After tasting rock bottom under rock bottom, though, they looked like absolute angels.
At least these ones didn't work me into the ground. The '78 season members, if not the '77 ones, were angels compared to the Emperor.
Thank you.
So I offered a quiet little prayer of gratitude. I wasn't asking them to become diligent, ordinary people. Just please—don't turn into vicious bastards like that yellow mutt back in the capital.
"Brother? Is there something you wished to say?"
"No, nothing. Just looking at you all because it's been a while. Missed you."
Tanian had noticed my lingering gaze and spoken up first, but I firmly shook my head.
Saying something like Looking at you after looking at the Emperor makes me appreciate how precious you are would just sound like I was trash-talking His Majesty behind his back. Which, to be fair, it would be. But if I slipped up and got an answer like Then I'll stay in the Empire even after graduation!, I might just bite my own tongue off.
This world had something equivalent to graduate students—assistant instructors. If these maniacs ever set their minds to it, they had a perfectly legitimate reason to remain in the Empire after graduation.
Horrifying.
The mere possibility sent a chill down my spine. Having the key figures of every nation stay in the Empire for three years was already enough to drive a man insane—and now they might take the graduate-student route with no end in sight?
I had no idea who originally filled my role in the source material, but I was certain their every waking day had been hell.
Was the real original story actually Part Two?
The thought struck me out of nowhere. Last year, the members' hopeless one-sided love races had been agonizing and frustrating enough from a third-party perspective. I'd even wondered whether academy life was Part One and post-graduation was Part Two—and looking at it now, that guess had real weight.
The perfectly reasonable objection that a foreign prince becoming a graduate student in the Empire made no sense simply didn't apply. If these people were the type to listen to reason, they never would have come to the Empire in the first place.
"Spending two years together really does make you grow fond of a place. Honestly, I'm starting to wonder if I should apply for the assistant instructor program and stay in the Empire."
You son of a—
Ryutis's remark, delivered like a finishing blow, sent a dual stream of curses surging all the way up my throat.
That single comment confirmed it. If even a mere advisor like me could get them talking about assistant instructorships, then if their one-sided love for Luise had still been going strong, they would have stayed one hundred percent. They absolutely would have stayed until Luise started dating someone.
"It's just such a shame we have to go back after graduation."
I quietly stared at the Adam's apple of Ryutis, who was laughing and joking around.
I wanted to flick that thing so badly. Minor injuries healed fast enough, didn't they? With Trixie and Tanian around, anything short of instant death was treatable.
Hold it in.
Of course I didn't act on the thought. If I'd ever moved over something this small, the Baking Club would already have disintegrated into thin air.
"Does the Swordsmanship Department have an assistant instructor track too?"
Later, who had been silent until then, asked with a completely serious face. Not picking a fight, not trying to start up some swordsmanship debate—just pure curiosity.
And now that he'd asked, I was curious too. Magic had a strong academic character, so that made sense—but swordsmanship was pure practical skill. Did a subject like that even need assistant instructors? There didn't seem to be any papers or research involved.
"The history of swordsmanship runs deep, and every house and nation has its own secret techniques passed down like family treasures! Training also has to be tailored to each individual's physical traits, so there's plenty of room for academic approaches!"
The explanation that followed actually convinced me. Approached that way, there was more than enough room for assistant instructors to exist. No—given how many pure swordsmen were weak on the scholarly side, sharp-minded assistant instructors would be desperately needed.
Like a Taekwondo department, I guess.
That was how I decided to think of it. I wasn't going to be an assistant instructor myself, so I didn't need the details.
...
Why the hell does he know that?
I looked at Ryutis with trembling eyes. The fact that he knew something I didn't in such detail meant he had already looked into the Swordsmanship Department's assistant instructor program.
Terrifying. Without my even knowing it, Original Story Part Two: Fluttering Graduate Student Life! had been right at the door. Thankfully the project had been abandoned, but my heart was still racing.
...That was a close one.
I subtly shifted my gaze toward Luise. Right now she was busily baking cookies in celebration of my return—Luise, who had once been adored by every single member of the club.
If—just if—Luise hadn't turned the members down, or if she had never had feelings for me—wouldn't they be preparing for Part Two right about now, just like in the original?
Whoa.
I instinctively shut my eyes. That future was something I simply could not handle.
My gratitude and love for Luise swelled to overflowing.
It was a hastily arranged party in the club room, so the scale itself was modest—but it unfolded in a pretty decent atmosphere. To welcome me back after so long, to send off Eri, with whom they'd grown close, and simply to enjoy themselves.
Chewing on one of Luise's cookies as I looked around, I spotted Eri wearing a disappointed pout.
Surprising. Had she actually gotten attached to the club members too—
"Hwing, there are still so many secret passages I haven't told them about."
Nope. I'd misread that completely.
"...There are still more?"
"This isn't an academy—it's an ant nest."
Ainter and Later let out hollow laughs at the sudden secret-passage remark.
They've achieved enlightenment.
I felt a pang of pity looking at them. Hearing the absurd claim that an educational institution had secret passages and responding with nothing but empty laughter? That meant they had already suffered through Eri's madness to the absolute limit. They had reached a level of glamorous mental damage where they could naturally accept the insane statement that the Academy had secret passages.
They do exist, though.
I felt sorry for those two, hit with culture shock and mental contamination at the same time—but secret passages really did exist all over the Imperial Academy.
This Imperial Academy had been built back when the Apels Empire still stood strong and its capital was flourishing. Whether for emergency evacuation or concealment of high-ranking officials, secret passages were scattered throughout the Academy grounds.
They'd been built with serious intent, too—sturdy enough that even the Imperial administration knew about them, and I'd personally confirmed them last year—
"There's also a passage Senior and I made from the small auditorium all the way to the dorms, so go find it! I wanted to show you myself, but oh well!"
?
What the hell.
I didn't know about that one.
I froze mid-chew. There were other passages besides the ones from the Apels era? And she'd built them herself?
...With a senior?
My mind went blank. The only senior Eri had been close with was the Empress, wasn't it?
No way.
I hastily shook off the blasphemous thought. The Empress—the conscience of the Imperial family, the Emperor's restraining device. The very symbol of dignity and gentleness.
Even if I gave her a hundred points of leeway and chalked up her friendship with Eri to Eri's insane social skills, I still couldn't imagine the Empress—then a duke's daughter—digging around building secret passages. She must have meant some other senior. Of course.
"But who exactly is this senior? It sounds like you did everything together. I'd at least like to know a name."
Ainter's question was met with a brief silence. Every single person in the club room shut their mouths and looked at Eri—so thoroughly had he voiced the question on everyone's mind.
"That's a secret! I'm going to keep quiet until that senior reveals it themselves!"
Eri laughed it off with a giggle, but I saw it. Just for a split second, hesitation and fear flickered across her face.
That Eri had hesitated. Even by the standards of her madness-soaked worldview, she had instinctively known that revealing her senior's identity would cause something enormous.
And there had been fear in it too. Regardless of the scale of whatever incident was involved, that senior was, to Eri, a source of fear itself.
"Well, they've already graduated, so finding out wouldn't mean much anyway. It's not like we'd call them back now to fill in the passages."
So I stepped in myself and wrapped up the conversation. If I started turning it over in my head, the candidates would narrow down fast—but my instincts were screaming that I should not approach any further.
"You're right. What's the point of digging up someone who's already graduated? We already have our temporary advisor right in front of us, a man from that very era—no need to go meeting anyone else."
"Calling me a man from that era makes me sound ancient!"
"Khuh, my apologies."
Thankfully, Ryutis and Eri picked up the ball well enough that we could quickly change the subject.
"Oppa."
"Hm?"
As I watched Eri and the club members bickering over some new topic, Irina had somehow come up beside me.
"Are you feeling unwell? You haven't eaten anything for a while."
Ah.
I glanced at my right hand. Maybe because I'd been thinking about information I shouldn't approach, my hand had stopped at some point.
A little embarrassing. I'd been mechanically eating cookies and then just stopped putting them in my mouth—of course she'd worry.
"It's been so long since I had these, I was trying to savor them."
I pulled Irina in by the waist, and the worried look on her face softened into a gentle smile.
"It's all right. If we run out, I'll make more, so please eat as much as you want."
"Luise will?"
"I handle the plating, so can't we say we made them together?"
I let out a short laugh at that. Luise, still standing in front of the oven, might feel a bit wronged if she heard—but if she'd contributed to the plating, I had no choice but to acknowledge it.
"Still, I'd like to try cookies Irina made too."
"I'm in the Gardening Club, so baking is a bit..."
At my half-joking request, Irina flinched and shook her head with an awkward smile.
I knew. Irina was practically an honorary Baking Club member, so she had some experience—but her skill lagged not only behind Luise's but even Trixie's. As she said, different club affiliations meant it couldn't be helped.
"You can just mix flour and sugar and bake it. I eat that kind of thing just fine."
"Pfft, I'll keep that in mind."
She clearly still took it as a joke, only letting out a small laugh.
It wasn't a joke. I really did eat that kind of thing just fine.
As long as it's not at the level of what Luise made last year.
I felt bad for Luise, who had worked so hard, but sparse ingredients were better than weird ones.
"Um, Oppa?"
Just as I was about to recall those cookies that had become completely inedible once my sense of taste returned, Irina carefully opened her mouth.
"I-I still can't give you a handmade gift, but... I can at least do something like this..."
She naturally picked up a cookie from the plate and held it out in front of my mouth.
"A-aah~"
Whoa.
A face flushed red enough to give Mar a real run for her money, and an "aah" so mechanical even she must have been mortified.
Her affectionate gesture, made in spite of the embarrassment, nearly made me laugh. I never expected a surprise like this.
Ah.
A brilliant idea suddenly struck me.
The moment I took a bite of the cookie held out to my mouth, Irina's expression brightened. Her courageous show of affection had been accepted, so she looked relieved.
But that relief was premature.
"...Oppa?"
With the cookie still in my mouth, I leaned in toward Irina. Close enough that our noses nearly bumped.
Then I lightly tapped the cookie sticking out of my mouth.
"O-Oppa!?"
Irina, who had been staring blankly at the scene, finally realized what it meant and hastily tried to pull back—but I already had both of her shoulders in my hands.
Cookie game.
It had come to mind precisely because the cookie she'd fed me was a chocolate one. When a couple shared the same food, this was the best way to do it.
A Pocky stick would have been more perfect, but I'd settle for this.