The Girl Who Likes Mihail -1-
Three days after the incident caused by the student council's unilateral decision.
"Magic Department, fourth-year Class A: Shartia."
"..."
"The faculty are deeply disappointed in this matter."
Shartia sat alone before a crowd of professors. Excluding the other students involved, she was the only one here. There was one reason she sat here by herself: to take responsibility for the incident.
As the overall leader, Shartia bowed her head and gave the professors the answers they wanted. Any unnecessary remarks wouldn't align with what they sought, and she had no desire to drag out the hassle.
"...I'm sorry."
The fourth-year magic department professor seated at the center of the table addressed Shartia. Why had they judged and acted on their own? When they'd sought advice before, the academy's rules stated that students should handle academy matters themselves—yet now the professors were spouting convenient excuses.
Disgusting.
They wouldn't listen no matter what she said anyway. Shartia swallowed her churning nausea and nodded along to the professor's questions.
"Isn't it natural to seek a professor's help if we students can't handle it on our own?"
-Grip.
"Professors are at the academy to teach students, yes—but also to protect their safety."
"..."
"Shartia, do you realize you've abused your authority?"
"We thought we could resolve it with our own strength. Last week, when we sought advice, you professors didn't even pretend to listen."
"I told you to wait and see. I never said to act on your own."
"There was no reply for a full week."
"Shartia!"
"And if it weren't for us, you wouldn't have even noticed the anomaly in the barrier stone."
"..."
"On top of that, Sister Elishea had been using mental magic on students for three years..."
"Where in the world is there magic that lasts three years?"
"..."
At the professor's cold response, which refused to hear her out, Shartia stopped mid-sentence and let out a deep sigh. This person wouldn't listen regardless of what she said.
"I'm sorry."
She should have just given them the answers they wanted. Shartia clenched her fists and endured the professors' lectures for a long while—comments about how they'd never seen a student council president who dragged incidents like this into the academy, and how they needed to revise the outdated regulations. Watching them hypocritically lecture while showing no real concern for student safety, Shartia suppressed her rising anger and bowed her head.
"I'm sorry."
She figured this would all end today anyway. The reason they'd called her aside separately was obvious. They wanted to hint that she should step down from her student council president role sooner, as her term was nearing its end. She didn't need to hear the rest to know.
"..."
With a sense of relief, Shartia waited for the punishment they would pronounce upon her. She had no lingering attachment to the position anymore. She'd thought becoming student council president would earn her some noble support, but it hadn't helped at all. If anything, it had only created more enemies, offering zero aid in her harsh palace life.
Shartia hoped the meeting would end quickly and let their words flow in one ear and out the other. She wanted to rest now. She wanted to see the bear Olivia raised.
-Gom.
"..."
Shartia was eager to leave.
The professor, who had been lecturing nonstop, seemed to have run out of words. With a deep sigh, he gravely opened his mouth.
"The chancellor, myself, and the academy faculty have discussed this at length."
"..."
"We've concluded this won't be the last incident. Heretic-related events are increasing, and we judge that the student council lacks the judgment to handle them properly."
"That's...!"
If only they could end it with holding just her accountable—but the professors cut off her objection sharply, as if they'd sharpened their blades for this. They stated their decision.
"Starting today, we're dividing the student council's authority. To someone wiser in judgment, with superior achievements."
"This was my mistake. Punish just me, then..."
"No. This is a problem with the entire student council. The academy's fault for granting such great power to immature students."
"..."
"Don't worry. Shartia, you won't suffer any direct harm."
"That's not the issue!"
"Be quiet."
"I'm sorry."
"In any case, the academy's decision stands."
The professor smiled as he spoke.
"You'll know this person well, Shartia. The one who was student council president during your first year."
"What do you...?"
"Conveniently, they've agreed to come here. Say hello—to our new director."
-Knock knock.
The moment the professor finished, a knock echoed from behind Shartia. A polite, measured knock.
-Gulp.
-"May I come in?"
"Yes."
-"Then I'll enter."
At the man's voice from behind, Shartia squeezed her eyes shut. Meeting that man again terrified her. She'd never dealt with him directly back then. She hadn't joined the student council yet. She'd only heard rumors from her seniors.
The strictest, most rigid student council president in academy history. And the most awkward one.
-Creeeak.
"Pleased to meet you. Starting today, I'll be serving as academy director..."
"It's been a while."
The professor cut off the man and greeted him warmly, as if boasting their familiarity.
The man gave a slight bow in response to the professor's greeting.
"I'm speaking. Don't interrupt."
"...Pardon?"
Ignoring the professor's flustered look, the man boldly stated his piece.
"Let me introduce myself again. I'm the senior director here to assist executive decisions without infringing on student freedoms."
"..."
"Malik from the Histania family."
Malik smiled and bowed.
'Looks like I can set up a convenience store here.'
He recalled the business idea he'd discussed with Ricardo.
At that moment, a commotion echoed through the academy library.
-Crash!
-Chill...!
"What the...?"
Hanna, sitting in the library, dropped her book to the floor from the sudden chill and turned around.
"What's that...?"
The anxiety that her brother might show up at the academy. Whenever she sensed he might drop by, Hanna felt this shiver—which was why she turned to look.
-Beat me to death.
-...Pardon?
-I heard it from that red-haired butler. How badly I messed up.
-Please don't do this—stand up. Anyway, I...
-Beat me. It's all I can do right now. I'll apologize when you're ready to accept it.
Hanna let out a hollow laugh and shook her head.
"No way..."
Knowing her graduated brother had no reason to visit the academy, she dismissed it as needless worry and picked up the fallen book.
-How to Seduce an Older Man.
A fine book indeed.
"Sigh..."
Hanna, who usually avoided books, was at the library after ages, reading. She'd piled volumes on her desk like a mountain—ones promising vast knowledge to her romance-inexperienced self.
-The Junior Who Devours Her Senior.
-The Neighbor Woman Adulterizing with the Butler.
-The Red-Haired Knight and the Princess.
Hanna rubbed her throbbing head, unable to find the info she sought, and sighed deeply.
-Gulp.
These steamy novels offered little practical help.
"...Just thrust your chest out?"
Still, Hanna had gleaned some harvest. She buried her face in the book and read diligently. Little bits of knowledge would surely prove useful in the real world.
"If you wear a shirt and 'accidentally' spill coffee on your chest..."
And at that moment.
"Oh my~ Who's this?"
A familiar voice rang in Hanna's ear. The voice of a noble that dropped her favor the instant she heard it.
The woman with purple drill curls covered her mouth, smiling.
"Ohoho~! What brings the sword department's blockhead queen to such a refined place? Just swing your sword like the brute you are."
"Haa..."
"Ohohoho!!!"
At the intruder's arrival, Hanna sighed deeply and closed her book. Mingling with this magic-obsessed lunatic wasn't her hobby.
Hanna shot the woman a sharp glare.
"Why pick a fight again?"
"Ohoho...! Exactly one year. Since you crushed me in the rankings match. It's the anniversary!"
"Stop bothering me and get lost. I'm studying."
"Studying?! Hanna Histania studies?!"
"Shut it."
"Eek!"
At Hanna's piercing gaze, the woman flinched and turned away. Then, as if refusing to back down, she squeezed her eyes shut and stubbornly spat out what she wanted to say.
"Ohoho... Don't look at me like that. It's scary."
"That's why I'm telling you to leave."
"I saw a rock-for-brains like you reading and thought you might be carsick, so I came to check—and this is how you treat me?"
"Who're you calling thick-skulled, you flower-head."
"Ohoho...!"
She was a woman with flowers in her head, in every sense.
And one of the girls who liked Mihail.