Hero's Heroine, Childhood Friend (2)
Hera watched Yuran walk away, her waist still tingling from his touch and the upper curve of her butt patted lightly.
"N-Next time… I have to… properly refuse…."
Such vows—she had no idea how many times she'd made them.
Academy, first year. After years studying magic under her master, she'd finally enrolled. She'd heard Arthur—her childhood friend—had entered the academy too, just to follow her, and she'd looked forward to reuniting.
Arthur as the Hero…?
It was hard to believe. Arthur was just a pure village boy, far from brave or righteous.
The academy was vast, teeming with people. So she hadn't spotted him at the entrance ceremony.
That was how her first day began. In her first class, Hera noticed one striking man.
Tanned, muscular build. Sharp features laced with irritation, boredom, and ennui.
He looks just like… that character from the hidden novels in Master's study….
Remembering her master's secret, she shook her head. Thinking of such things in this sacred hall of learning wasn't right.
But Hera kept stealing glances at Yuran. People like that actually exist.
Yuran was nobility. Even as the disciple of a great mage, she was still a commoner. The class divide was immense.
His looks and status intimidated her. But she figured she'd never cross paths with someone like him anyway—and even if she did, nothing good would come of it. With that, she settled in for the lecture.
Most of it was review from her master, but the professors' fresh magical perspectives were intriguing now and then.
She was deep in focus when that intimidating guy slid into the seat beside her.
H-Hiiik…!
She screamed internally. Why next to me? Don't tell me, like in the novels, he—!
H-He'll… r-rape me…!
In those stories, men like him were incarnations of lust. Her chastity was in peril.
What if he tried? Magic? Call the professor? She agonized—
But nothing happened. Thankfully.
"Hey. What's that mean?"
"Y-Yes…?"
"The formula the prof's writing. What is it?"
"Th-That's… a basic formula variant…."
Yuran spoke so normally that Hera answered on reflex.
Novels… are just novels after all… Huh…? H-Hieeek…!
At first, she was flustered. Yuran just asked questions politely.
Then he rested a hand on her waist. And started caressing lightly.
Next came doubt. Am I really being groped by a total stranger right now?
Doubt mixed with fluster into full confusion.
But even that vanished with his next move.
That big, thick hand slid down from her waist toward her butt.
Students sat right behind them—he'd get caught for sure.
She had to refuse. If word spread, it would tarnish her master's honor.
And if he ignored her and kept going…
I'll blast his arm off with magic…!
Her orphan master had brought her to the capital and made her a disciple. She couldn't sully that honor.
If Hera had one firm trait, it was this: devotion to her master.
Vanderbilt disciple attacks classmate with magic in academy.
Vanderbilt disciple gives her body to a stranger during lecture.
Neither was good for her master, but the former was at least defensible—protecting her body.
"P-Please… stop… or else…."
"Got it. I'll stop."
"Heuk…?"
Yuran backed off so easily that Hera's mind blanked.
M-Maybe… novels are just novels….
Reality differed from fiction, she reaffirmed. At least it ended with words, no drama.
She sighed in relief, convinced her firm refusal would deter him.
But that was wishful thinking.
"Hey, sit here."
"……."
"Hurry up."
"Y-Yes…."
Every overlapping class, he'd claim the back corner seat and beckon her over.
She knew what awaited if she went. Yet his nobility… his scary looks… she lacked the courage to refuse.
"Monster traits? Like we care about that crap. Right?"
"Nngh…."
Her butt—never touched by anyone—was being fondled in real time.
At first, just a hand resting there.
But as lectures dragged, he'd grip lightly. Wiggle fingers, knead softly.
His touch grew bolder, weirder.
I-I should refuse… b-but… no one's behind us….
First-time sensations clouded her judgment.
And her master's honor? Irrelevant now—no witnesses.
Th-That's why the back row…? H-He's scary for real…!
A calm, rational thought could've freed her.
But her timid nature synergized disastrously with his advances.
Uu….
Hera feared being alone with him would lead to horrors.
Arthur….
As Yuran groped her butt, her childhood friend surfaced in her mind.
She knew Arthur liked her. Romantically? Never crossed her mind.
But going further with this guy would hurt him for sure.
And his parents already saw her as their daughter-in-law. The village thought she and Arthur were destined.
She'd never seen Arthur as a man, so marriage felt unreal.
But if time passed and he stayed by her side… maybe.
Beyond that, as a woman, she couldn't yield her chastity lightly.
So she resolved to halt further advances.
In other words: she'd endure unless it risked her master's honor or escalated to true danger.
She hadn't planned to tolerate the teasing from the start.
She refused verbally every time: "No," "Stop."
Oddly, when she was truly cornered, he'd listen.
M-Maybe… he's n-not so bad…? N-No, snap out of it, Hera! He's lust incarnate…! Next time, make him stop for good…!
Such resolves diluted over time, with more encounters.
Eventually, unless special circumstances, she accepted waist and butt touches as routine.
Of course, she framed it as tolerating, not consenting.
Thus, three academy years passed. Graduation.
Her chastity intact, thankfully. Free from the man who'd toyed with and threatened it.
Huh…? I graduated… unscathed…? For real…?
Three months post-graduation.
She'd felt oddly off without her teaser—then bumped into him again.
Absolutely not because she missed him. The academy years were just… long. That's all.
"Hera, you okay? You look tired."
"Uh, um? No…? Just… thinking…."
"Rest if you're beat. Deployment's days away."
"…Yeah. Thanks for worrying, Arthur."
After meeting Yuran and visiting her master in a daze, Hera zoned out during dinner with Cecily and Arthur.
"Oh, right. Saintess, got a question."
Arthur asked Cecily mid-meal.
"What is it?"
"Where were you before the North? Meant to ask earlier, but forgot with all this chaos…."
Cecily hadn't attended the academy. Instead, she'd wandered the continent, spreading divine grace.
Back in the capital, she'd meet the Hero, sharing tales of the wider, darker world to steel his resolve.
Arthur's question fit that routine.
Cecily answered without hesitation.
"Toypus Earldom. It seemed desperate for divine aid."
"Toypus… Oh, Yuran La Toypus's land?"
"Yes. Why do you ask?"
Now Cecily was puzzled. Why that face?
But Arthur's next words made her frown.
"Did Yuran… do anything weird?"
"Pardon?"
"He's always stirring trouble. Said crude stuff to you. And Hera too… same deal."
"Ha…."
"…Saintess?"
"No strange incidents like you imagine. He was very courteous, requesting aid. As a lord burdened with his people."
"I-I just worried about you…."
The saintess felt disappointment in the Hero.
Not for badmouthing Yuran.
Yuran had spoken vulgarly to her. Touched Hera inappropriately. Facts were facts; no issue mentioning them.
Her dismay stemmed elsewhere.
First: despite hearing the earldom needed divine help, he'd pried about Yuran's behavior first.
She couldn't respect a Hero who didn't grasp his role.
Second: Arthur's words sparked her own self-reflection she'd overlooked.
In short, Cecily was disappointed in herself.
Arthur's "weird stuff." She recalled her day with Yuran.
As long as it wasn't something weird.
She'd said that when he asked for help.
From her view, fair enough. In the capital, he'd ogled her lewdly, treating her as a sex object.
His lust persisted in Toypus.
But reflecting: Yuran truly cared for his domain, shouldering lordly duty.
She regretted judging such a man by past slips and unspoken thoughts.
I shouldn't have fixated on what I glimpsed that shouldn't be seen.
Mid-meal, she paused to pray and self-reflect—then caught an unexpected remark.
"I-I… ran into the Earl earlier too…."
"What?"
"Huh?"
Cecily and Arthur reacted in unison to Hera.
"…Seemed he had business with my master…."
"He didn't do anything? You okay?"
"N-Nothing happened…. Not the academy anymore…."
"Tell me if it happens again."
"Uh, yeah."
Hera gave Arthur an awkward smile as he fretted over her, post-Cecily.
A lie—but not her first.
Even after Yuran and Arthur's post-duel clash, he'd kept teasing her.
She hadn't told Arthur.
No need to worry him constantly. And it was her issue.
And…
…….
She recalled Yuran's bruise post-duel.
But Hera told herself she hid it not because of that.
Fighting was just wrong. Nothing more.
She lied to herself.