Closing In -1-
Early dawn. Mihail sat at the vanity, staring into the mirror.
"..."
The Mihail reflected there wore a sorrowful expression. His own image looked so utterly ugly.
The calluses etched into his hands, the fierce glare of his eyes. His short silver hair and diminutive stature. Not a single feature held any appeal to the opposite sex. In fact, it was only natural to find it hideous.
Mihail clenched his teeth at the sight of his protruding chest.
"Ugly."
Others might see it differently. But in Mihail's eyes, it was grotesque. Appearance was always like that—something that could look beautiful to everyone else but turn to hatred if the owner couldn't accept it.
"..."
Mihail hated the figure staring back from the mirror. He pressed his hand against the glass with a thud, lost in deep thought. Searching for a way to fill the gaping void inside him. He couldn't find what he wanted to become anymore. Or what he wanted to do.
His self-esteem plummeted to rock bottom. His relationship with him sank deeper into the mire. Now, truly—
—Crunch.
He couldn't find the right path. His heart shriveled under that cold gaze. Emotions darkened like tinnitus ringing in his ears at the sight of his retreating back, refusing to look his way. Like sinking into a swamp too deep for even a sliver of light...
He no longer knew what to look toward, what to strive for.
—Crunch.
And yet, it was all the result of his own choices. The massive lump in his chest had swollen from repeated mistakes, and depression was devouring the empty space once filled with hope. Why had he hated him so much? Why had he loathed him? If he'd treated him like everyone else, things wouldn't have spiraled this far.
In the end, the arrow he'd loosed at the target had boomeranged back at him. Pathetically.
"Haa..."
Mihail gazed at his ugly reflection, his face crumpling in misery. It was a day when he needed to look pretty, but it was starting off terribly. Today was the day he would meet Ricardo. Not as 'Mihail,' but as 'Misa.'
He hadn't thought he could deceive him forever. It was far too selfish.
Ricardo wasn't dull, either.
'Maybe... he knows...'
'No, that's impossible.'
Mihail shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. If, by some chance, Ricardo truly knew his identity and was still teaching 'Misa' out of pity... he wouldn't have the face to lift his head. Owing him even more would snap the fragile thread of his reason.
Mihail knew the mask of Misa was selfish, yet he indulged his greed. If their relationship improved, he'd reveal everything himself. So he just needed time until then. Until Mihail could become a better person.
"Sorry..."
Being with him filled the emptiness. It felt like the void was being patched, and those moments were pure joy. Even if he didn't know Mihail's true identity, this secret connection—one-sided as it was—had become Mihail's sole lifeline. He couldn't let it go. Not when he didn't even know what he liked. He'd spent so long avoiding learning about him, fixating only on what he hated. It was strange that he knew anything at all.
With a heavy heart, Mihail eyed the cosmetics on the vanity. Red lipstick. Cheek rouge. And a potion to lengthen his hair for the day. He knew approaching him as Misa was a sin, but the sweetness of those moments had intoxicated him. He no longer had the strength to distinguish right from wrong.
If he didn't do this...
—You're trash.
—Never show your face around us again. That's your atonement.
He felt like he was crumbling. This selfish method was all he had. Cowardly as it was, repeating the same mistake, Mihail reached out with a heavy hand.
—Clink.
To dream sweetly once more.
"...I'm really sorry."
Mihail had betrayed justice.
The plains of the Hamel Mountain Range.
"Good."
"Really...?"
"You've improved a lot since before. More stable, steady breathing."
"Thank you."
Mihail, appearing as Misa, stood on the plains swinging his sword. With long hair and clumsy makeup.
"Good. Shall we try again?"
"Yes...!"
Hmm...
I still couldn't fathom what strong-willed Mihail was thinking, seeking me out like this. It didn't make sense, especially with a sturdy teacher like Rowen. And besides—
—I hate you.
The person who hated me most in the entire academy coming to me out of a thirst for knowledge? It was almost laughable.
"Hoo... That's 100."
"Already done?"
"Yes...!"
Still, her strong will to learn earned her my good graces. I could see genuine intent. Knowing Mihail's temperament, if she were digging for something, she'd have asked outright by now. So I taught her swordsmanship with sincerity.
I corrected her stance as she caught her breath, offering advice.
"You've improved a lot. You're getting used to the new sword, and applying mana to your body is much better."
"Really...?"
"It's praise, so feel free to be happy."
She nodded with a small smile at my sly compliment.
"Thank you."
"No problem."
"Praise feels this good, huh..."
"Pardon?"
"Ah... nothing."
I smiled faintly at her beaming face, cheering her efforts. Time passed, and lunchtime approached.
"Shall we eat now?"
"..."
Mihail's face twisted awkwardly at my suggestion. She clearly didn't want a repeat of last time.
"..."
Her emotions showed plainly.
"...Hmm."
With a small smile, I fetched the bag hidden behind a tree, spread a mat on the grass, and patted the spot beside me, calling the awkwardly standing Misa.
"What are you doing?"
"Huh...?"
"Time to eat."
"Ah... I didn't bring lunch... You go ahead, Teacher. Haha... I'll eat later after practice."
"Jeez, Misa, you're so dense."
I laid out the lunchbox on the mat and offered her chopsticks.
"What."
"Huh?"
"Your arm's gonna fall off. Eat with me."
"Ah..."
She stared blankly at the chopsticks with an awkward expression, then broke into a bright smile and nodded.
"Yes...!"
She looked happy. Her face said so. How could she smile like this now, after scowling all the time before? People were unknowable.
Mihail eyed the kimbap in the lunchbox and asked me.
"Did you... make this yourself?"
"Yeah."
"..."
"Does it taste weird?"
Gripping her chopsticks tight, Mihail murmured softly.
"No..."
—Crunch...
"It's really delicious. Addictively so..."
Returning to the mansion, I smiled at the familiar presence after so long. The runaway mage was back.
—Gom!
"Yeah, I'm home."
As I entered the yard, Gomtang wagged his thumb-sized tail and nudged his head toward me.
—Gom gom...!
"Yeah, yeah."
I stroked Gomtang's head and glanced under the massive doghouse.
Whoa...
When did he make this? I marveled at the enormous burrow inside Gomtang's house. It wasn't some half-hearted job. Stairs. An attic door. Impressive.
I cautiously knocked on the open attic door. Even as landlord, I needed the tenant's permission.
—Knock knock knock.
—...Yes, just a moment!
I'm doing expansion work...!
How far is he planning to extend it...?
I chuckled at Hans's voice echoing from deep within the burrow and nodded.
"Take your time."
—I'll be up soon!
'I said take your time...'
Thanks to Hans, we'd accomplished so much. Mansion cleaning. Ironclad security. I could leave without worry. The reinforced barriers protected the Young Lady in my absence, and an intrusion alert spell would notify me instantly.
This fortuitous encounter had made life so much easier. Truly.
I knocked again and waited for footsteps from the burrow. And then—
"My saint!"
Hans, peeking his head out, his honorifics ever-changing. After a brief greeting, he spoke cautiously.
"Do you have a moment to talk?"
"Talk?"
"Yes."
"Ah..."
I glanced at the Young Lady peeking from the mansion and gave an awkward smile.
"Can it wait until evening? The Young Lady's waiting."
"Of course. A saint's time is precious..."
"...Haa, is it important?"
"No, just a report."
I nodded slightly and headed into the mansion. That evening, I heard something rather serious from Hans.