Fairy-Like Comfort, Academy - 1
The journey back to the Academy with the box bestowed by His Grace the merciful Golden Duke was thoroughly enjoyable.
The school trip I had set out on burdened with worry and annoyance had ended with quite respectable gains, after all. A fifty-percent rise in the discreetly funneled support funds plus six bottles of Boyar Wine was more than enough to cross the entire Empire without want. Settling all that for nothing more than a trip to Boyar left me thoroughly satisfied.
"Isn't it uncomfortable? Give it to me. I'll hold it."
"I'm fine. You'll be uncomfortable too."
"I'm sitting on the inside so I have more space. Come on."
If anything was unexpected, it was that Irina—whom I had assumed I might never see face-to-face again, let alone speak with—was surprisingly calm. She even seemed more at peace than she had on the way to Boyar.
When we boarded the carriage she was already inside and patted the seat beside her for me to sit; now she was asking me to hand over the box I held in my arms.
The Kraken effect must have been huge.
She seemed to place far more weight on the fact that I had saved her from nearly getting hurt than on the fact that I had seen the tears she tried to hide. For the enemy of her house—someone she would have every right to cut off forever—to regard me as a benefactor was something to be grateful for.
In truth the real enemy was not me but the third-section chief, yet subordinate and superior form a community of fate, so what could I do? If that bastard's merit was my merit, then that bastard's karma was my karma as well. A sad state of affairs.
In any case I carefully passed the box to Irina, who was stretching both hands toward me and looking straight into my eyes. She was going to keep doing that until I gave it to her, after all.
"You two have gotten quite close, I see."
I nodded absently at Erich's remark as he watched. Close? I wasn't sure. But compared with before, the relationship had improved a great deal. If affinity had gone from –80 to +20, that was a full hundred-point rise.
Even so, measured from zero it was only twenty higher. Irina and I were exactly that sort of relationship.
"Being stuck in a carriage together, it's natural to get closer."
"That's a relief. Irina seemed to find big brother a little intimidating."
Well, I doubted it had been only a little.
"Big brother is a good person, so it'd be nice if you get close!"
"U-uh-huh."
At those words Irina bowed her head, ears flaming red. A good person, nice to get close. Even so, accepting such mortifying remarks with perfect composure would be hard. Residual feelings still remained, after all.
"Once she's comfortable with me, she'll be friendly."
I said it lightly, packing the meaning that if she could not open her heart I would not force her into discomfort. Yes—growing close was a conversation for after Irina felt at ease. It was not a matter of me deciding whether to become close or not.
"Then it won't take long."
I let out a small laugh at Luise's cheerful giggle. She could say that only because she did not know the full circumstances.
Luise's eyes, however, were surprisingly accurate. Was this the power of an original protagonist?
"Coming empty-handed felt wrong, so…"
On the day ordinary Academy life resumed after the school trip, a guest appeared during club time.
"It's a hawthorn. The flowers bloomed so prettily I brought it."
"Wow, pretty!"
Irina, holding a small pot, visited the club room and handed it to Luise. A hawthorn sapling with white blossoms. I was no expert on trees, but it looked rather lovely.
"Thank you! I'll raise it well!"
"Just water it on time."
Luise set the pot in a sunny spot and examined it several times, clearly taken with the flowers. If blossoms could feel gazes the way people do, it would already have died of pressure.
Irina, watching her, turned her eyes to me and dipped her head slightly.
"Hello, oppa."
"Yeah, hi."
But was she really all right being here? What about her own club?
"They said today's club meeting was cancelled, so I came to hang out. Was I a bother?"
As if sensing my unspoken question, Irina explained first. She had lost her place and drifted here. Nothing for it, then.
"Bother? Rest comfortably and go whenever you like."
"Thank you."
She bowed again. Such a polite girl, yet until now she had been so frightened…
"Huh? Irina, weren't you in the Gardening Club?"
"Yeah, that's right."
"Today the Gardening Club is off…"
Erich, who had been kneading dough, looked at Irina's face, fell silent for a moment, then continued awkwardly.
"Ah, sorry. I mixed it up with another club."
"It's okay. That can happen."
I watched Irina's back as she let out a soft laugh and forced myself to look away. I could not see her expression with her back turned, yet somehow I was glad I had not seen it.
In front of the Baking Club room I twitched my hand several times. All I had to do was knock—just close my eyes and do it.
Will it be all right?
I had avoided and shunned him until now; was it really okay to visit so casually? Wouldn't I just be a nuisance? Wouldn't they think I was a strange girl?
No, no. I had simply come to see a friend. And I still had not given a gift for being saved, so of course I had come. Yes—reason enough.
It depends on my own heart.
Oppa had clearly said we could grow close once my heart felt comfortable. I had not forgotten the unpleasant things of the past, yet I could not keep closing my heart to a benefactor forever. That would be narrow-minded for a noble.
Having steeled myself, I entered the club room and was greeted by Luise and oppa. They did not seem reluctant despite the sudden visit; that was a relief. They also seemed to like the gift.
"The flower language of hawthorn is tolerance—or forgiveness, I think."
While fretting over what to bring I had sought advice from a senior in my club, and I had received just the right flower language.
Tolerance, forgiveness. Perfect. Saying it aloud myself would be embarrassing, and oppa hearing it would feel awkward, yet this gentle expression left no problem. Oppa would surely be impressed by my thoughtfulness once he realized—
No, no. Whether he was impressed or not did not matter. This was simply a gift. Yes—no deep meaning. A light first present.
"Huh? Irina, weren't you in the Gardening Club?"
Having secured justification for being in the Baking Club room by claiming today's meeting was cancelled, Erich spoke to me. Had he realized it was a lie? Did Erich have other Gardening Club friends besides me?
"Today the Gardening Club is off…"
I silently stared at Erich as he started to say something he should not. My sincerity seemed to reach him; he closed his mouth.
"Ah, sorry. I mixed it up with another club."
"It's okay. That can happen."
As expected, Erich was truly kind. He understood a friend's sincerity and let a small lie pass.
I spent a suitable amount of time in the Baking Club room and left. The somewhat burdensome high-ranking people had turned out better than expected, so it had not been awkward, yet my senior had said it was fine to go elsewhere during club hours as long as I returned when they ended.
"Come play whenever you have time—don't feel burdened!"
"Is that really all right?"
"Yeah! It's fine, right?"
"Yeah. It's not a secret hideout or anything."
I also received permission to come again anytime. Nothing left to regret.
"Senior. I'm back."
"Ah, Irina."
When I returned to the Gardening Club room, the senior who had told me the hawthorn's flower language welcomed me.
"Did you already give the hawthorn as a gift?"
"Yes? Why suddenly?"
"Ah, that one has other flower languages too."
At the senior's added remark while scratching his cheek, my mind went blank white.
"'Only love' is also a flower language. Actually, that's more famous than tolerance."
"Ah."
Ah.
Aaa…
Aaaaaaaah!
Ah, no!
W-what do I do, what do I do!
I-I never intended to approach that far from the beginning! I only wanted to say it was all right now—just that much…!
"Irina?"
"S-senior, th-that, really—is that the most famous one?"
"You already gave it."
When I managed a creaky nod amid extreme mortification, the senior sighed as if there was nothing to be done.
"If the recipient doesn't know the flower language, it's fine."
"If… they know…?"
"……."
"Senior?"
The senior did not answer, yet that silence pressed heavier than any words.
Please, please let oppa not know the flower language. My thoughtfulness? My gentleness? It was perfectly fine if he never noticed those, so please!
With the pot now present, the club room felt as though it had gained a little vitality. Small as it was, a plant was still a plant. It looked nice.
"Even if you spill flour it won't show much."
Ryutis, possessor of a thoroughly twisted aesthetic sense, spoke with satisfaction. That bright-red fellow, looking at flowers and saying that. You wouldn't show much even if someone poured hot sauce on you.
"White looks nice too. I always thought flowers needed color to be pretty."
"Things that hold nothing can also be beautiful."
After that, Erich and Ainter exchanged perfectly normal impressions. At least not everyone shared Big-HotSauceMan's sense of beauty; that was a relief.
Then Luise, who had been wiping the pot with a cloth, suddenly turned around and spoke.
"What would be good as a return gift?"
Ah—return gift.
"If you prepare something just because it's a return gift, it'll only feel burdensome. Snacks every time she comes will be plenty."
"Is that so?"
If this had been an ordinary gift, a return would have been fine. But while handing the pot to Luise she had also sent a glance my way. No matter how I looked at it, this was a thank-you gift for the Kraken incident.
A gift of gratitude for saving her—and then the benefactor offers a return gift? Irina would then have to give a return of the return. A grotesque chain reaction.
"Irina likes macarons, so preparing macarons should be perfect."
She nodded with resolute determination; it looked as though macarons would be mass-produced today. She could make macarons too? Impressive…
"Irina will be happy. Do your best."
"Yes!"
Leaving the enthusiastic Luise behind, I gazed at the pot Irina had given. What had she called it—sansu tree? No, hawthorn?
Never heard of it.
Some people memorized flower languages by color, but I knew none of that. I barely even knew which flowers bloomed in which season. Knowing that cherry blossoms appear in spring was more than enough.
Still, it was pretty to look at. Having a plant in a place that otherwise reeked only of flour made the air feel cleaner somehow. Next time she came, I would have to thank her again.