Recognition Craving Monster

"S-suddenly...? That's a bit surprising."

My words had come out of nowhere, it was true. As expected, Rone eyed me warily in response.

But there was no problem.

"It's nothing major. Think of it as a kind of counseling session. Gifts vary so widely from person to person that every student needs in-depth conversations tailored to their own abilities, don't they?"

"..."

"And while we're at it, if you have any personal worries, we can sort those out too. Right, Miss Rone Yustria?"

"W-well, if it's something like that..."

Her wariness didn't stem from being the source of the ghost story. Even though she was the source, she—the host of that ghost story—couldn't control it, or even recognize its existence.

In a way, she ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was just another victim caught up in it, no different from Muchia.

So the caution she felt was limited to the unease of suddenly drawing a teacher's attention since the start of the semester. Nothing more.

Once I gave her a reasonable excuse, she let her guard down without much resistance. Well, not completely—she just relaxed enough to hear me out, but that was sufficient.

"For starters, this classroom is needed for the next lecture, so shall we take a walk?"

"Yes..."

I led her out of the classroom and strolled through the academy grounds, drawing out the conversation.

There was no need for a probing battle. I'd already gathered plenty of info from two regressions, and I had my Gift to boot.

"Miss Rone, are you enjoying life at the academy?"

"Ah, yes. Of course. It's the top academy on the Hifnia continent, after all. How could I have any complaints? Every day is so exciting I can barely sleep."

"And yet, you seem inwardly anxious about it?"

"...!!"

Rone, who had been bubbling with joy like she couldn't contain her daily excitement, froze for a split second at my words.

"Haha, no way! Do I really seem like that?"

Of course, it was just a moment—she flashed a bright, cheerful smile as if nothing had happened.

If this were a previous loop, when I knew nothing solid about her, I might have dropped my suspicions right there and fallen for it.

But not anymore.

"Of course. Your excitement for Everlight Academy is undoubtedly real. It's true that you're thrilled about the life ahead here. But at the same time, isn't it also true that you feel anxiety and fear about academy life?"

"...Teacher, you even know that?"

"I'm a teacher, after all. I've got info on you and the other students memorized. Teachers know far more about their students than the students realize."

A lie. What I knew about her came from regression experiences and my 'Observation'—not because I was a teacher.

But Rone had no way of knowing that. She looked up at me with admiring eyes, let out a sigh, and began spilling her true feelings.

"You're right. The truth is, I've been anxious ever since enrolling. The reason is..."

"You're worried that you might not be anything special at Everlight Academy? Before coming here, you had confidence in your abilities, but once you arrived and saw the other students—all just as capable or better—you started wondering if maybe you weren't so special after all."

"...Teacher Allen really knows everything. It's like you've been inside my head."

My words pierced right to the core. Rone shed the mask of the energetic, confident girl she'd been wearing and revealed a fragile, uncertain side for the first time—full of doubt and worry.

I didn't even need my Gift to read her psyche. Once I understood the root of her inner turmoil, her thoughts became crystal clear, like I could grasp them in my hand.

To get into Everlight Academy, she must have had exceptional brains and a highly practical Gift among Gift users.

That would have given her strong pride in her abilities—and the belief that she was special.

But at Everlight, exceptional brains and useful Gifts weren't special; they were baseline. The moment she realized that, the foundation of her self-image began to crumble.

It was common enough. The high school top student who dominated their school enters university—surrounded by other top students—and despairs at barely keeping up with the average. A clichéd story.

"As you probably know, Teacher, I was born the youngest daughter of the Yustria count family."

Her ensuing confession confirmed my hunch.

Her family might bear a count's title, but they were so minor it was quicker to count from the bottom. Practically low nobility, with limited wealth and manpower allocated first to the sons, then the eldest.

The support and attention given to Rone—a girl and the youngest—was practically nil. No abuse or neglect, but far from being showered with love.

With her small, frail build lacking feminine appeal, she wasn't doted on by family or peers either.

The youngest daughter of a poor noble house in a small kingdom. That was her life.

But when she turned sixteen and her Gift was discovered, everything changed.

"So you only realized you had a Gift at sixteen?"

"Yes. No one paid much attention to me before, so I didn't know either. But that day, by chance, something drew everyone's eyes to me..."

Discovering a Gift late in life was common. No dramatic signs at birth, no glowing body on manifestation—most people live normally until they stumble upon it.

Once revealed, her Gift was so useful it let her—a physically disadvantaged girl—overpower adult men.

From then on, her treatment flipped entirely. Her priority, always dead last after her siblings, rose to match the heir's. From social outcast to superstar overnight.

It even got her into Everlight, the academy for the world's top talents.

Naturally, she believed she was special—and that it would hold at Everlight.

Until she enrolled.

"So after starting here, I've been anxious that I'm not special at all—and that things might go back to how they were, with no one paying attention to me."

...That's why she secretly hoped the academy would be attacked.

An attack would let her showcase her Gift and shine, making her special among Everlight students once more.

"I think I've got the gist of your situation, Miss Rone."

"Huh? You didn't know my background already?"

"Ahem! I mean, knowing it as a story is different from hearing the person involved pour out their feelings firsthand."

"I see. It feels strangely mystical. This ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠is our first real talk, but it seems like you've known me forever."

"Haha. Must be your imagination."

Success in digging this far. Now, should I boost her self-esteem through normal counseling? Or advise her on milder ways to use her abilities than hoping for an attack?

No. That wouldn't work.

"More importantly, Miss Rone, there's one fact you haven't shared, isn't there?"

"Huh? That's everything about me. I don't have ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠any hidden secrets in my life..."

Rone looked up at me with genuine puzzlement, as if I was grasping at straws.

Was she really hiding nothing? Or had it not occurred to her that I'd guess this too?

"Your Gift. Publicly, it's known as 'Justice Enforcement,' but that's not it—it's something else."

"H-how did you... Hup!"

Realizing her slip, Rone clamped her mouth shut—but that reaction confirmed it.

I'd suspected since hearing her describe her own Gift.

She had told me herself.

Yet my 'Observation' still showed her Gift as ???.

Even with Muchia, it took prolonged observation to uncover his.

Two possibilities: She didn't fully understand her own Gift and mistook it for Justice Enforcement, or she knew but hid it deliberately.

Her reaction pointed to the latter.

"You've been hiding your real Gift."

"..."

Rone bowed her head silently. Not planning to confess herself, huh?

Fine. I'd say it.

"Your true Gift doesn't activate through justice enforcement—it's from receiving others' attention. A Gift that enhances your physical abilities when people focus on you, right?"

"How did you...!?"

"Didn't you just say it yourself? You didn't know because no one paid attention to you. If it were truly justice-based, you wouldn't need that explanation—no need to tie it to a coincidental spotlight moment."

And in the previous loop, fighting the crime syndicate Clo, she'd seemed weak in stealth ops or empty rooftops.

I'd thought it was because stealth wasn't "justice" or she was tired on the roof. But no—her trigger simply wasn't justice.

As if proving my guess, the ??? finally updated to its true name.

"I-I'm sorry. The reason I didn't reveal my Gift is..."

"Because calling it 'Justice Enforcement' draws eyes more easily?"

Passing it off as Justice Enforcement wasn't a big deal. Justice or Stage Constitution—what did it matter? A cute little lie.

The real issue: Her Stage Constitution Gift had badly tangled the ghost story resolution.

My plan was quiet counseling or teaching proper Gift use to restore her self-esteem gently.

If the ghost story stemmed from her lack of it, fixing that should end it.

But suspecting it wasn't Justice Enforcement threw a wrench in. A Gift needing audience attention couldn't be handled quietly.

And no quiet fix meant exponentially higher odds of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the ghost story interfering during self-esteem recovery.

In her mind, she and her Gift were inseparably linked.

Ending her anxiety without the Gift? Impossible short-term. Slow counseling might work eventually, but the ghost story would raze the academy ten times over by then.

Solving it risked triggering it more. A dead end.

Normal methods couldn't grow her low self-esteem.

Only one way: An abnormal one.

"Miss Rone."

I spoke to her, anxious now that her lie was exposed. She looked at me with unsteady eyes.

The moment our gazes met, I parted my lips.

"By any chance, are you interested in club activities?"