End of the Day (1)
True to his reputation as the former mage of the Hero's Party, Georg's special training had been absurd both in content and in method—or so Dogeon thought.
Casually conjuring a subspace large enough for a person to enter was already nonsense enough. Twisting the flow of time between inside and out on top of that was something else entirely.
Three hours had passed within, yet only about three minutes had ticked by outside. It left Dogeon wondering why someone of such caliber was wasting away at a mere academy.
For all Amauros Academy's renown, it hardly seemed the place for a former member of the Hero's Party. The question only grew more insistent.
"Look on the bright side. I got to learn something valuable thanks to him."
Still, Dogeon didn't dwell on it. The original story never explained why Georg had stayed at the academy, and the man vanished around the midpoint anyway. Until then, Dogeon figured he might as well wring every last drop of usefulness out of him.
"Treat yourself as the center of the world and rewrite the rules… I had no idea magic worked like that."
Even if your available mana was pathetically small, sincerely believing you stood at the heart of everything could amplify a spell's power—yet no such setting had ever appeared in the story.
So that was why every mage character had turned out the way they had. They were already nobles with inflated self-esteem; add an unshakable conviction that the world revolved around them, and Dogeon suddenly understood everything at once.
Georg had assessed Dogeon's magical talent as "tolerable, if you squint." Coming from a man who graded with extreme stinginess, that was practically praise. Even Anastasiya hadn't escaped his scathing reviews—so if Dogeon had earned a "tolerable," he was doing rather well.
That faint flush of self-satisfaction evaporated the instant he saw Hoyeon turn down an alley. His whole body went rigid.
Whatever his own talent, one word from her to her parents and everything would be over. He needed to show her only the best this continent had to offer—not some filthy back alley.
Without a second thought, Dogeon followed after her. He wasn't worried about being noticed. If anything, he hoped she would catch him.
His hopes proved pointless; she only pressed deeper in. What business could she possibly have down here?
Finding her didn't take long. At the intersection where two alleys met, he spotted her standing stock-still and asked, sincerity plain in his voice,
"…Lady Hoyeon, what brings you here?"
"I got lost."
Anyone could see she had deliberately entered the alleys rather than lost her way, but Dogeon chose not to point it out. Nothing bad had happened, at least—though he couldn't entirely suppress a twinge of hollowness and irritation as he replied,
"You do seem to get lost rather often."
"The roads are simply too complicated."
Following the main streets alone would take you to nearly every facility on campus. That she had gone out of her way into the alleys only to claim she was lost left him dubious, but he decided not to press further.
There was no need to sour their relationship with pointless questions—and he still needed to get her out of this alley. He changed the subject.
"Is there somewhere you were trying to go?"
"…I want to reach Dormitory 4. Do you know the way?"
"You have a room in Building 4?"
"I do."
Dormitory 4. His own room was there as well. He might as well stop by to rest—and extract Hoyeon from the alleys at the same time.
Georg had fully restored him physically, but the mental fatigue was considerable. He needed the break.
"What a remarkable coincidence. My room happens to be in Building 4 as well."
"I see."
Her tone was frigid, utterly devoid of any desire to continue the conversation. It felt as though her words carried an unspoken Your circumstances don't particularly interest me.
At the World Tree rest area she had smiled, offered him bread, looked after him. Why was she broadcasting such open hostility now?
Had something soured her mood in the meantime? It was possible. Did that mean he was supposed to play counselor as well? Dogeon considered it seriously.
She seemed to hold some goodwill toward him… and yet right now she didn't. He couldn't even tell from her tail whether she liked him or hated him, and her emotional swings were far too extreme on top of that.
Worse, not even a full day had passed and she had already clashed with the Northern Grand Duchess's daughter. Leave things alone and it wouldn't be strange if the entire academy turned against them.
Calling it a "clash" was generous—Hoyeon had merely summoned Anastasiya and asked where the snack shop was—but the atmosphere had been so murderous that anyone present would have drawn the same conclusion.
Dogeon was certain of it.
"…Shall I show you the way, then?"
"If you would."
He guided her in silence. He didn't know the layout of the alleys either, but that hardly mattered. Once they reached a main road, he would know exactly where they were.
Following after him, a thought occurred to me. Doesn't this guy not know the way either? Trailing behind someone who had been nearly an hour late to PE class was starting to make me anxious.
No normal person would wander for a full hour straight. More likely he had run into some girl midway and been flirting until he was late.
He had met a girl in the middle of it, and I had felt a pointless stab of envy. Some of us had gotten lost for real and nearly cried.
Anyway. He himself had admitted the roads were complicated, and he had clearly wandered a bit. Following someone who was just as lost as I was would only land us somewhere strange. Or else he knew the way perfectly well and had simply lied about it.
Why he would lie was a separate question.
"…Do you actually know where you're going?"
He was striding ahead without a word, so he seemed to have some sense of direction—but I was too uneasy not to ask. I didn't want to end up somewhere ridiculous.
"I don't know the alleys' geography, but I know where all the facilities are."
"…Didn't you say earlier that the roads were complicated?"
He stopped short with a look of mild panic, and I knew I had been right. Getting lost had been a lie. He had spent that time trying to pick up girls.
"That was…"
"Forget it. I won't pry. Just finish guiding me."
Thinking back, I had believed him far too easily. He might look innocent now, but he was the wolf in sheep's clothing who would eventually build a harem. I probably ought to be a little more wary.
Whatever excuse he had been about to offer, he abandoned it and walked on in silence. The atmosphere hadn't been pleasant to begin with, and now it felt even more rigid—thoroughly uncomfortable.
It made me look like the one who had done something wrong. I hadn't even been hit with noble rhetoric, and Dogeon was the deceptive, popular protagonist who would end up with a harem—so why was I the one feeling guilty?
Still, watching someone slump around like that wasn't exactly a joy. Knowing it was because of me made me want to console him, somehow.
If he had been ugly or rotten on the inside, I wouldn't have given him a second glance. The fact that he was excellent on both counts only made it worse.
"I wasn't trying to scold you. But if you're going to lie, you might put a little more care into it."
"…I'll keep that in mind."
Had the atmosphere loosened a notch? Seeing his steps lighten a little, I felt oddly relieved myself.
Maybe I should have snapped that lying was wrong instead of covering for him—but then he would definitely have resented me. It wasn't simply that I wanted to stay on good terms because he was the protagonist.
That was the biggest reason, true. But I had no intention of joining that harem of his. Watching from the sidelines as he steered the story along was more than enough.
I still thought of myself as a man, after all.
I wore garter belts, tied my hair up, and the underwear was starting to feel familiar—but I was still a man. That was what I told myself. Even if a certain monthly phenomenon kept contradicting me, and even if my parents were actively hunting for a match.
I was still a man.
"…This may be rude of me to ask, but may I?"
No matter how absurdly plot-armored he was, I would never become one of his harem members. Reaffirming that resolve, I spoke to him.
"What is it?"
"At the rest area your expression had softened, but earlier—and even now—you seem… rather… to be announcing your displeasure with your face. Has something put you in a foul mood?"
His question caught me completely off guard. I was going around broadcasting my displeasure with my expression?
"Me?"
"…No, I'm sorry."
"No—say it properly. Does my face look that grim?"