Suspicion Bites Its Own Tail (4)

I was dumbfounded.

It wasn't as if a person could go around smiling all the time, so why did they all start trembling the moment I simply stared at them with a blank face?

Calmly, I smoothed out my expression. To loosen the stiffness, I forced a smile.

"I merely have a question to ask, so there is no need to be quite so on guard."

"…."

At my words and expression, the man—who had been shuddering from head to toe—steadied himself, and his eyes began to gleam warily. If anything, my smile had only deepened his suspicion.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Honestly, the ingratitude of it. A man smiles at you, and this is what you give him.

"I am simply curious. Why have you been tailing me so diligently? Was it someone's order?"

A twitch—his shoulders flinched, if only for an instant.

Perhaps because I had driven straight to the point, I could feel tension flooding into his body.

And though I should have been tensing up at that telltale sign myself, I just kept standing there wearing some fool's kindly smile.

"Won't you tell me? If you would only share that much—ah."

Thud. A dull impact sounded. The man who had been seized from behind moments ago shoved me with all his strength, and I was knocked back several steps.

Watching him snap into a fighting stance the moment he broke free of me, I couldn't help but sigh inwardly.

This was inconvenient.

I couldn't very well harm someone whose identity I didn't know. It would be equally troubling if my watcher were found dead—or if he went back to report that something had been done to him.

"Brother."

"…."

Would it truly be so hard to just answer me quietly?

Before long, as if to answer my question, he lunged at me. Consider it a hands-on demonstration of his refusal to speak.

"Haah…."

I let out a sigh.

Come to think of it, this was my first real fight, wasn't it?

For someone who'd been a modern-day person, swinging a weapon and hitting people was an utterly alien concept. I'd never learned any martial arts, never brawled with anyone in my life.

That was probably why I'd been anxious.

My capabilities were more than sufficient, but I had worried about what would happen if my own inexperience put my life in danger. I couldn't go waking Niger every single time things got dicey, and I certainly couldn't spend the rest of my days being dragged around by him.

And so—laughable as it sounds—I had asked Niger directly.

And what was it he'd said to me?

Right. Quite a reassuring answer, coming from a serial killer.

While I was lost in that thought, a fist came flying at me. The man shows no mercy just because someone's trying to think things through. Incredible.

He'd seemed flustered at first, eyes trembling, yet in a blink he had closed the distance. Judging by the form and speed of his punch, he was no ordinary man.

My robe billowed around the fist hurtling toward me. I watched the blow streak for my face and ducked my head. The fist whistled past overhead—disconcertingly close.

Damn it all.

Still ducked low, I drove into his chest and hammered my elbow hard into his stomach.

"Hhk—!"

He let out a pained grunt, a short gasp unbecoming of him. He seemed to be trying to retreat, but his condition wasn't what mattered just then.

I looked down at my own arm with newly minted wonder, then back up at his face, contorted in agony.

No way. This actually works.

I'd practiced alone and run through the motions in my head plenty of times, but I'd never imagined I'd actually respond this naturally once a real situation landed on me.

So there I stood, marveling inwardly, and he came at me again, his hand darting out as if to seize me by the collar.

The grab came fast and heavy, but somehow my eyes were already tracking the movement of that hand. I slipped aside and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠burrowed into his chest without thinking.

His fingertips grazed the fabric of my collar by a hair's breadth. Whether because I'd dodged, or because his own collar had been caught in turn, I saw his eyes waver.

And, quite unreasonably, I felt proud of myself.

"…!"

The fact that he absolutely refused to speak even in his moment of panic said it all—a man of very few words indeed.

"My apologies in advance."

Seizing his outstretched fist, I twisted my body in the opposite direction. He was dragged along exactly as I pulled, and I hoisted him over my shoulder and slammed him down hard into the ground.

The earth boomed.

"Aaagh—khk…! Ugh, khh…!"

It must have hurt quite a bit.

He screamed. Even so, his body writhed as he tried to rise, so I pressed down on his fallen frame to keep him pinned.

"Brother, won't you answer the questions I have asked of you?"

"Nngh…."

At my question, he looked up at me with eyes full of pain. Even pinned to the ground, his refusal was unmistakable.

Truly… I didn't know which organization he belonged to, but there was no denying he was a loyal watcher.

"Haah… forgive me for one moment."

Holding him immobile, I flipped up his robe. If there happened to be a crest of any kind, it would tell me who had sent him.

Gripping his arm, I turned his body this way and that. He was still hurting, apparently, for a faint groan escaped him with every turn, and with each one I stammered out another apology as I worked.

I found no crest—but I did find something else.

A Communication Mana Stone.

Uh, hm.

Unless I was mistaken, that was a rather expensive piece of equipment.

There were precious few organizations that could afford to issue these all the way down to their lowest-grade informants. At most, high-ranking nobles—or the truly massive information guilds.

This was a real problem.

The people watching me being big shots could only ever be bad news.

As I mulled this over and lifted the stone, tiny voices drifted up from it.

Judging by the voices, they had to be the very people who had been watching me.

I stood there holding the stone, listening in silence, weighing what to do. I needed to be careful—they didn't strike like people I could afford to handle carelessly.

So, if I simply kept listening, would I get the information I wanted? Or, failing that….

And with that voice, my deliberations were over. Their leader, it seemed, was waiting on a response from the watcher I had pinned.

Left with no choice, I brought my mouth to the transmitter and answered.

"Good evening to you, Brother. This is Niger Caritas."

—….

At my words, they fell silent.

"If you have questions for me, perhaps the client might come and ask in person. After all, I do take rather frequent strolls every night. Kindly convey to the client that I shall answer all questions with the utmost courtesy."

I said my piece and set the stone down.

No reply was needed. The one who'd have to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠agonize over this was the client, not me.

Having delivered my message, I returned the Communication Stone to the fallen man.

Part of me wondered whether I really ought to just let him go—but what choice was there? It wasn't as if I could do anything to an informant of the high and mighty.

My own fault, really, for writing class stratification into my settings.

The man accepted the stone from me, hauled himself unsteadily to his feet, and started to walk away.

"One moment."

I stopped him, then let holy power flow into him.

Beneath the dark sky, the holy light glowed bright, pouring into his body and mending his wounds.

"There. That should do it. My apologies."

I gave a short bow of my head. He hesitated for a moment, then returned the brief bow in kind and vanished from sight.

The wind stirred.

********

The next day, I headed to the Academy with a lighter heart than usual.

Whether he had passed my message along to the client, or simply withdrawn after ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠being caught in the act of surveillance, either way, I could no longer feel those watching eyes.

"Professor Niger, good morning!"

"Yes, Professor Elia. Good morning to you."

So I flashed a smile at Elia, who had stopped by my office.

"Oh my? You're looking brighter today than you have in ages."

"…."

At this rate, I half suspected Elia did nothing but study my face all day. I'd smiled at her exactly as I always did, so how on earth did she pick up on differences this subtle?

"Haha… well, yes. I realized it on my way in this morning—the surveillance seems to have vanished, so I suppose I feel more at ease."

"Oh, really? That's such a relief. I've been worried sick about it… truly such a relief."

"Thank you for the kind words. Ah, by the way, as of today there's really no need for you to walk home with me…."

Now that the watchers were gone—and assuming no new ones attached themselves—there hardly seemed to be a reason to keep commuting together. And so I was about to thank her for everything she'd done when—

"Oh… r-right, of course…. The surveillance is gone, so there's no need to walk home together anymore, is there…."

"…."

Her drooping shoulders and sulking eyes kept burning themselves into my vision. One sentence about walking home separately, and the brightest smile in the world had clouded right over.

Had she been born with a tail, I'm certain it would have been swaying merrily a moment before, only to sink all the way to the floor.

I floundered briefly at the sight, but by this point, pretending not to notice would have been the real joke.

Elia wanted to spend time with me.

I'd been considerate on account of her home lying in the exact opposite direction from mine, but watching her miss our walks this much, telling her I'd be walking home alone from now on was simply something I couldn't bring myself to do.

"Well—if it's no imposition, would you care to keep walking home together after all?"

"I mean, it can't be helped, so—huh? Really? You mean it?"

"I do. So long as you don't find me a bother, Professor, I much prefer the company. These past few days of walking together have been more enjoyable than walking alone ever was."

Her eyes went round at my words. A faint flush colored her cheeks, and her fingers fidgeted. Her shoulders gave a little jolt, and a tail that couldn't possibly have existed gave a happy swish.

"Ah—of course I'd love to! Ehehe… ah, hem hem! So, will you be waiting at the library again today?"

"Yes, most likely."

"Great! Then I'll head straight to the library when my lecture's done!"

And with that, she kicked the door open and marched out. It was, frankly, adorable.

Yes. Just like a puppy.

Today's sacred arts lecture wrapped up without incident.

Responding to the Headmaster's tearful pleas not to send the students home utterly drained, I worked them a moderate amount—though I did push Bellatrix, who alone demonstrated standout talent, a little harder than the rest.

Perhaps because of that, her gaze felt a touch more predatory than usual today. She would stare at me distractedly, and then, whenever she burned through her holy power and collapsed, glare at me as if she'd been wronged somehow.

Hm.

Professor Elia was a puppy, but this one was more of a stray cat.

In any case, once the lecture ended and I reached the library where she was waiting, Elia's whisper brushed my ear as it always did. She smiled sweetly and called my name, and I nodded and fell into step beside her.

And so we walked home together.

"Professor Niger, have you ever been to that restaurant? Apparently it's run by a really famous chef."

"No. It's near my home, actually, but I haven't been yet."

"Mmm, then what do you say we have dinner there together next time?"

She tossed the invitation out with perfect nonchalance, as if she hadn't just asked me on a date.

I simply answered that we should share a meal together should the chance arise.

Amid that soft, warm atmosphere, I arrived home. I bid her goodnight, stepped inside alone, and opened my door.

As always, I shrugged off my outer coat, set it aside, and walked to my desk.

And there, I noticed something that didn't belong.

A letter.

Resting atop my desk was a letter, sealed with the crest of House Feltner.