7 - SSS-Rank Labor Student

"Kyaaaaah!!"

With that scream, she strode right up to me and thrust out her arm.

I'm... gonna die!!!

Whoosh! In a flash faster than light, she snatched the panties from my hand. Then she shoved my back, pushing me out the door.

"The bedroom!! I'll do it myself!! Could you handle the rest, please!!"

"Got it!!"

Bam!! The door slammed shut like a thunderbolt.

I stood there in the hallway, dazed.

Huff... huff... I really thought I was dead.

My heart was pounding like mad. I'd figured she'd ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠slap me or blast me with magic for sure.

"Phew..."

I let out a sigh of relief without thinking and brought my right hand—the one that had held the panties—to my nose.

......Hnn.

Sultry, with a faint, tangy lemon bite. Like the scent of first love, but laced with an adult's dangerous allure...

Squirm-.

Ah... no!! Snap out of it, you perv! This is straight-up creep territory!! I'm a gentleman!!

Smack! I slapped my own cheek hard.

Lewd demon exorcised. Time to switch into cleaning fairy mode.

Three hours later.

I barely clung to my sanity and turned the witch's lair upside down. Cobwebs cleared, floors mopped, window sills dusted, even sorted the recycling. I poured my soul into my century-old labor student skills.

Whenever we crossed paths, her face turned tomato-red and she'd bow her head as she scurried by. But I'm a 100-year pro. I acted like nothing happened, silently sweeping away.

Whew... this ain't wrapping up quick. First, a late lunch...

I brewed a hot herbal tea to settle my empty stomach.

"Here, senior—have some tea first."

"Ah... thank you."

"Take a break. And I'm gonna use the kitchen. Refuse, and I won't come back—promise."

Her eyes wavered, then she nodded cautiously.

"Okay."

She cradled the teacup in both hands, blowing on it gently. I watched with a warm smile, then headed back to the kitchen.

Menu... curry it is.

Considering my packed schedule, something I could make in bulk and reheat forever was best. Plus, curry's the eternal cheat code of the food world—just chuck in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠meat and veggies, boom, guaranteed tasty.

"Pardon the intrusion."

I opened the fridge door with grim determination.

And lost my words for a moment.

"......"

The fridge was a frozen graveyard. Carrots shriveled like mummies, drained of all moisture. A slimy green veggie blob evolving into a liquid monster. Bottles of mystery sauce so ancient the expiration dates had faded away.

Heartbreaking, for real...

If it were me, I'd have reset from food poisoning ages ago. But I'd come planning a full-day clean-up anyway. Curry gets bumped to dinner main; first, resuscitate these dying ingredients from the fridge corners.

Sizzle-.

In no time, aglio olio pasta and fresh salad were done.

"All set."

"Whoa... smells amazing."

We sat across from each other, digging into the pasta. The oil's richness, garlic's aroma, and Evangeline-senior's smile.

"It's delicious! Evan, you're really good at cooking."

"Glad it suits your taste."

After the meal, Evangeline-senior cleared the plates and stood.

"I'll do the dishes."

"Sure. I'll get back to cleaning."

Round two, begin.

5 PM.

I stretched my back and surveyed the room. The rundown shack vibe was gone—the living room now sparkled like a model home. The floors gleamed, stale dust replaced by fresh detergent scent.

"Phew... about done."

This should pass muster, right?

Post-clean-up, we sat at the shiny dining table. We reheated the tea and took a breather.

"Really... thank you, Evan."

"No biggie, haha."

Ugh, awkward. Moments like this remind me ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I'm a total loner.

My gaze drifted to the floor unconsciously.

Under her chair. Her long black hair, trailing down to her knees, brushed the ground.

Sweep, sweep. It dragged with every head tilt.

And at the ends... a white dust ball dangled like an ornament.

Ha... everything about her, from one to ten, is just pitiful.

I set my teacup down with resolve.

"Evangeline-senior, hold on a sec."

I dragged a chair to the full-length mirror in the corner, spreading newspaper on the floor.

"Sit here for a bit."

"Pardon? Oh, okay."

Clueless as a pup, she plopped down obediently.

I rummaged in my bag and pulled out my secret weapon.

Snip-.

A silver blade glinted. Hairdressing scissors.

"......Evan?"

In the mirror, her eyes went wide. A hint of fear.

Makes sense—a guy suddenly pulling a weapon.

"Lemme trim your hair."

"Ehh?! No, it's fine! I can go to a salon..."

"Liar."

I cut her off before the charm could hit.

"Senior, you never go to salons."

"......!"

Her shoulders flinched—nailed it.

"I know you avoid going out 'cause of people's stares. Sitting in a salon chair, everyone gawking... you couldn't handle that, right?"

"That's......"

She shut her mouth. Just imagining it paled her face, like suffocating.

"But... how could you..."

"What do you take me for."

I twirled the scissors flashy-like and grinned.

"My resume's pretty glamorous, y'know."

Salon for a labor student? That's luxury like a 5-star buffet. I've been self-trimming with dual mirrors for a solid century.

Recall it all—the treatments I did hating my looks, blaming them for everything...

My hands already surpassed the Blue Club director's touch.

"When you're down, you need a mood boost. Consider it my gift."

"A gift......"

She hesitated, then squeezed her eyes shut with determination.

"Okay... please do it."

"Haha, I'll do my best."

I combed through her long locks. Smooth-.

Silky as satin between my fingers, despite zero care. Born S-rank is different, huh.

But the ends were wrecked from dragging on the floor.

I'll make you pretty.

Deep breath, scissors ready.

Snip. Snip.

The crisp cuts filled the silence. Damaged strands rained down.

"......"

In the mirror, she was tense. Shoulders twitching at every touch.

To loosen her up, I chatted.

"Senior, nice head shape."

"Huh? What outta nowhere..."

"For real. You could rock any style."

"Ah... thanks."

True story. Face is plot armor, head shape's the narrative backbone. Bald would suit her, but life's at zero—no need to test.

I boldly chopped the length to mid-back. Layered the bangs hiding her face.

Hiding that pretty face is a crime.

Snip, snip.

My fingers brushed her earlobe.

"Eek...!"

She squirmed wildly. Nape flushed red instantly.

"It tickles..."

"Sorry. Ears sensitive, huh."

Memo: ears are a weak spot.

I played dumb, tucking stray strands behind her ear. Her pale nape burned hot under my fingertips.

Weird. Just a haircut, but the vibe's getting steamy. Like sharing breaths, so close.

Calm down, inner sage.

I shook off distractions, focused on the final snips. Neatened the edges, twisted the sides for flair.

"Done."

I swept the floor hair with a broom, then stepped aside from the mirror.

"Open your eyes."

She peeked cautiously.

"......Ah."

A stranger stared back. Ghostly tangles now sleek and chic, red eyes gleaming like gems through bangs.

"Is this... really me?"

She poked her hair in disbelief.

"Whaddya think? Like it?"

"......"

She turned slowly, looking up at me. Teary eyes, shy smile blooming.

Bad for the heart. For real.

"Thanks... Evan."

"Glad you like it."

I grinned.

"Now, time for my fee."

"Huh? Fee?"

She fumbled in her pockets, flustered.

"No cash. What's your evening like?"

"Evening? Nothing special..."

"Date night, then. Fresh haircut—waste to stay cooped up."

"Ehhhhh?!"

Her face exploded tomato-red.

"No good?"

"N-No!! It's fine!!"

Depression doesn't heal itself. Gotta get her walking.

"Alright, floor cleanup..."

I grabbed the broom for the hair pile.

Evangeline flinched, blocking me.

"N-No!!"

She seized my broom hand.

"I-I'll clean this! It's my trash... can't make someone else do it!"

"......Got it."

My mouth surrendered against my will.

Her ears burned red too. Embarrassed to even let others see her cut hair?

"Cleanup's yours, then, senior."

"Y-Yes! I'll finish quick."

She snatched the broom, scurrying like a hamster hiding acorns. I stifled a chuckle at her back.

"I'll prep dinner meanwhile."

"Huh? Dinner?"

She paused mid-sweep, turning.

"B-But... you cleaned, cut my hair..."

"Senior."

I waved it off seriously.

"I'm not that shameless. Repaying mandragora stew with one pasta? That'd make me a thief."

"Still..."

"Help me keep my conscience clean. No pressure—let me handle dinner."

"Ah......"

Guilty but expectant, she nodded shyly.

"......Okay, please."

I grinned and headed to the kitchen.

This Garden of the Academy looks medieval fantasy outside, but inside? Super convenient. Game-user perks via magitech—modern infra like late-20th-century Earth.

Whoosh!

Fired up the mana stove, hauled out the big pot.

Bubble bubble.

As the pot simmered, a cheerful hum echoed from the living room.

"Hm-hmm~♪"

Evangeline-senior's tune. I stirred the curry slowly with the ladle, soothed by it.

Best prescription for depression: comfy space, nutritious food, human warmth.

I'm giving her the perfect 'treatment' right now.

But...

Strictly speaking, treatment wasn't my goal.

This was closer to 'taming.'

Stir, stir.

I gently mixed the thickening golden broth. Meticulous, obsessive—no sticking.

Gotta build anticipation.

Like these ingredients melting in the heat, losing form, blending into one flavor.

She needs to melt into me completely. Unable to live without me.

Already isolated from the world. If I'm her sole understanding, irreplaceable haven... the outcome's obvious.

She'll depend on me absolutely.

......Sorry, senior.

Suddenly, my stirring hand froze mid-air. Steam clouded my view, or maybe not—something ached deep in my chest.

She's so innocently kind. Using that for my survival? The sticky guilt seeped through the curry scent, fishy and bitter.

But I shook my head, banishing it.

This is for the world.

Need her power to beat the demon king. Drag her from her room, out into the world, make her grow.

Only then do I survive, the world gets saved, and so does she.

So this... necessary deception.

"Evan? Need help?"

"Ah, no! Almost done."

I flipped on my nice-guy smile mask for her bright approach.