I'm a Tiger, You See?
If someone asked whether Ilisha von Airbalt is a fool or not.
I'd glance around for a few seconds, then declare it loud and clear.
At least when it comes to using her head, she's a fool.
I felt strangely unfamiliar with myself for thinking that.
To me, Ilisha was like an enigmatic variable, her true nature impossible to grasp.
An unpredictable anxiety, liable to burst into some wild action at any moment.
A girl with enough talent to reach the realm of Sword Master, even with her crumbling body.
Until she slashed through that demon worshipper's hand, I'd thought she was a genius without peer in the world.
And of course, she is—a genius without peer.
At least when it comes to wielding her body.
From watching her over the past week, it was clear: the Creator of All Things hadn't merely stripped away her health as the price for her unparalleled sword talent.
The Lord had taken her brains, too.
She had an astonishing lack of talent for scholarship.
Which made it all the more shocking.
She had talent for magic, as well.
When I first heard she cast spells on pure instinct despite her dim wits, I was utterly dumbfounded.
Not that it was entirely implausible.
Northern blood carried traces of non-human lineage, after all.
Her ancestry might include some creature that wielded magic by instinct.
Stray thoughts aside, my point was this: she wasn't a complete fool.
In other words, she had a rough idea.
That someone was clearly tormenting her.
"Those slimy bitches... Argh, I knew it!!! You sneaky wretches! Ugh, which one was it?! Just let me catch her—I'll rip her to shreds!"
Lucia, more incensed by the bullying than Ilisha's own wishes, was raging like she meant to hunt the culprit down right then.
Even the kind-hearted Cecilia let out a small sigh, murmuring in lament.
"...She owes that girl a debt of gratitude, yet she hates Ilisha. I can't understand it."
"Right?! Without Ilisha, you might've... d-died or something... Well, maybe not that, but ugh, still! It's too much. Doing nothing is one thing, but bullying her?!"
The kids were venting their outrage in their own ways. But Ilisha just kept grinning, insisting it was fine.
"It's okay, it wasn't like I was dying or anything. At worst, I just got a bit dumb for a while. Who knows—maybe it even triggered my heat cycle."
"What do you mean 'fine'?! Look at the state you're in!"
"Hm, but I didn't hate it? I was kinda curious, you know. What a heat cycle feels like. Thanks to that, now I know. Heh."
"You... seriously..."
Even Lucia was starting to grasp Ilisha's intentions.
She had no desire to make a fuss.
It hadn't caused her any real harm, so while she wouldn't forgive it, she'd let it slide.
Yep. Ilisha von Airbalt really was a fool.
...She needed to be a little more selfish.
To cherish herself more.
She deserved far better treatment than this.
But right now, there was nothing I could do.
She was still a dangerous wildcard, after all.
Part of me even hoped...
Please. Just keep taking it without fighting back, like always.
I disgusted myself for thinking it.
Swinging a sword in this condition seemed impossible, so I headed to the magic hall and picked up some spells from Dorothea.
Not that I actually cast any magic. Sadly. She wouldn't let me.
She only drilled me on boring safety protocols—how to handle magic more securely.
Not that I hated it. No. Yeah, I did. Following safety rules means no one pays attention to you.
That evening, as I was enjoying dessert with Lucia and her crew...
"Um, Lucia? Did something bad happen today? Like guys being creeps or...?"
"Haa, it's not that."
Lucia was still in a foul mood, clearly bothered that one of her own harbored a grudge against me.
To the clueless girls, it must've felt so unfair.
Getting dragged down by some conscienceless wretch through no fault of their own.
The culprit herself paid Lucia no mind, focusing her attention solely on me.
Her subtle foot-tapping and stolen glances were kinda cute.
I know what you did. That must be eating at her.
"Hehe, Lucia? Mind if I step out for some air? It's a bit stuffy."
Pure excuse. It wasn't hot at all.
Days were warming up, but nights stayed crisp.
"Go ahead. Sigh."
The girls were still clueless, trying to console Lucia.
Seizing the moment, I mouthed to the herb-packet girl: Follow me.
Would she? Who knows.
Not even I was sure.
But instinct said she would.
And sure enough, she trailed after me obediently.
We slipped behind the café to a deserted spot. She gulped nervously but kept following.
Finally, in a place where no one would overhear...
"Hey."
My voice made her flinch, body trembling.
In the moonlight, her face looked even paler.
Hm. Scared?
Fear counts as attention. Unfamiliar... but not bad.
I approached with a casual smile.
"Wanna talk?"
"W-what... about...?"
She looked torn between bolting and staying.
I didn't block her path.
Instead, I said it oh-so-gently.
"Running would be a problem, though?"
Her shoulders shook visibly at that.
We stared in silence for a moment.
Like a rabbit.
Maybe the brown hair. Or her features.
Or just the terror.
Didn't matter. Didn't care to know.
I spoke first.
"That packet? Fun."
Her eyes widened.
"You... knew—"
"Yeah."
I flashed a bright smile.
"From the start."
Color drained from her face.
I watched her a beat, then took a slow step closer.
"Why'd you do it?"
She couldn't answer right away.
Lips twitching, she finally squeezed out:
"B-because I..."
"Because?"
"Hated... you. Some nobody rolling in out of nowhere, stealing Lady Lucia's favor... I wanted you in trouble..."
"Aha."
Admiring her stubbornness, her foolishness, in spitting it out mid-stutter.
"Hoping I'd suffer some humiliation?"
She bit her lip instead of replying.
Cute.
Exactly that level.
That much malice.
That much jealousy.
That much pettiness.
I studied her face like a meal, then lifted my lips higher.
"Good."
"...What?"
"Way better than I expected."
Her face twisted in genuine confusion.
I nearly laughed, but held back.
Too soon, and it's no fun.
"So listen up."
I was still playing Ilisha to the hilt.
Soft. Kind.
All the more terrifying for it, I knew.
"Keep acting just like this."
"What're you...?"
Casual speech from her.
Didn't mind a bit.
Felt closer, even.
"Just like now."
I tilted a finger her way.
"Sniping from behind."
Another.
"Jealous."
Another.
"Sneaky."
Folded the last.
"Exactly that much."
She blinked, face full of bewilderment.
"What're you even saying?"
"Still don't get it?"
I cocked my head, smile intact.
"As long as you don't cross the line, it's fine."
"Fine by who—"
"Me."
Too cliché a reaction; I cut her off sharply.
Voice dipping just a touch cold.
Her shoulders twitched—she noticed.
I continued slowly.
"Just like now. Childish. Shallow. Pathetic enough to make a perfect show."
"......"
"Nothing more."
She stepped back.
I didn't follow.
No need.
She was scared plenty.
"Refuse..."
I paused.
Heard her swallow.
"And I'll unleash every ounce of Airbalt power to crush your house."
She gasped.
"Think I can't? I can. And I will. My dad's... kinda crazy about me. You know that, right?"
Her lips quivered.
I smiled at it, slow and deliberate.
Not the sunny one this time.
Even I could tell: sinister.
"Still think it's a joke?"
No answer.
Her eyes reddened instead.
So I got kinder.
"One more time, since I'm in a good mood."
Ilisha's mask had shattered long ago.
I knew it.
Didn't care to fix it.
This felt easier.
Closer to my true self.
"Keep hating me. Keep trying to bite."
One step closer.
"So I can be the nice one."
Another.
"The innocent victim."
Another.
"You'll be the dumb, clueless villainess."
Noses nearly touching now.
"But don't cross the line."
I stared.
"Don't disappoint me."
She was backed against the wall.
No escape in her eyes.
Holding back tears.
Ah.
Good.
Really good.
Her voice trembled as she asked:
"Why... are you doing this to me?"
I closed my eyes, then opened them.
Laughter bubbled up.
Didn't hold it this time.
Soundless.
Quiet.
Lips curving only.
"Why?"
Gazing down, I whispered low.
"If you're gonna hunt a tiger..."
Paused there.
She stared, breathless.
I held her gaze, then murmured:
"You should've been ready to get eaten."
She finally sniffled.
Something in me woke fully then.
It had felt like playful fun before.
Now? Pure joy.
Her fear. Her breaking. Her dread of me.
Having someone in my grip, shaking them.
I savored it awhile, then smiled one last time.
Back to demure and pretty.
Proper Ilisha.
"Looking forward to it?"
Left it at that and pulled back.
Heard her shaky swallow behind me.
Didn't turn.
No need to check.
She wouldn't hate me like before.
No.
She would.
But now fear would mix in. Hesitation. She'd watch my eyes.
That was enough.
To keep me the pitiful victim forever.
Be the bitch for me.
Hee hee.