When a Woman Nurses a Grudge, Frost Falls Even in Early Summer (2)
The lecture thus came to an end.
Bellatrix, who had collapsed exhausted into my arms, was revived once more with a recovery spell.
"Are you all right, Sister?"
"…Is that really something a professor should be saying?"
"I believe my passion simply got the better of me. I'll speak to them on your behalf, so it would be best for you to rest a while in the infirmary."
"Haah… how very considerate of you."
She looked irritated, yet also like she was deliberating over whether to actually blow up at me, and the sight made me burst into a stifled laugh. Seeing her wariness noticeably thinned, I found myself nodding along for no particular reason.
"Thank you for your hard work today as well."
"…Right."
She gave a short nod and set off. Judging by her unusually listless gait, she really had been worn out.
And so I quietly called out after her.
"By the way, Sister—the infirmary is the other way."
"Oh, come on."
I mean, she really was heading in the opposite direction.
I'd noticed it since the entrance ceremony, but Bellatrix had a decidedly poor sense of direction.
After the lecture ended, I naturally turned my steps toward the library before coming to a halt.
Elia was the one who'd been angry, and she was the one who'd suggested we talk again after work—so was it really all right for me to just wait in the library as usual?
Somehow…
If she came looking for the guilty party—me, technically, though it wasn't actually my fault—casually holed up in the library, I had a feeling it would only sink her mood even further.
It seemed like the kind of consideration I ought to show.
And so I turned around.
I wheeled away from the library and retraced my steps, heading instead for the auditorium on the complete opposite side of campus. Swordsmanship lectures were usually held in the spacious training hall, after all.
Tap, tap—my shoes echoed down the corridor.
I greeted every student I passed. I sincerely hoped I was imagining how many of them flinched and hunched their shoulders at the sight of me, but my ears, regrettably sharp as ever, betrayed my hopes once again.
I heard he worked his students half to death again today….
I was planning to sign up next semester, but no way in hell now.
No.
That won't do.
If the class gets canceled, how am I supposed to make a living?
I walked on, fretting over the students' murmurs, and soon arrived at the auditorium.
From inside drifted the sounds of battle cries and cheering. And threaded between them, a familiar voice.
Careful not to disturb the class in progress, I eased the door open.
There was a brief screech of something dragging across the floor, but the students were making far more noise than that, so it hardly mattered.
"Alright, everyone, that's enough sparring—start cleaning up! The faster you clean, the earlier we finish! You all want to go home early, don't you?"
The moment I stepped inside, Elia's voice reached me. She appeared to be wrapping up the lecture, addressing the students.
Excuse me—ending class early?
I just taught an extra session today, and… at this rate, I suspect my reputation among the students is the only thing sinking.
Right.
If my class gets dropped, it'll be Elia's fault.
Which means it won't be mine.
While I was lost in these thoughts, Elia apparently spotted me, cutting herself off mid-sentence to call my name.
And then, as a bonus, every student's head swiveled toward me in unison. I gave them a brief bow before addressing Elia.
"Haha… forgive me, it seems I've interrupted your lecture."
"No, no, it's fine! But I was just… um… I've worked up quite a sweat, you see…? You really shouldn't have to see me like this. Ah, one moment, everyone—if headcount's done, you're dismissed!"
To me, this side of Elia was quite familiar, but it must have been a novelty to the students. They promptly erupted into cheers at the pair of us.
Frankly, I remained perfectly calm about it.
My expressions rarely betrayed my emotions to begin with, and I found it rather ridiculous for a grown adult to be embarrassed by this kind of teasing.
Elia, on the other hand, was glancing back and forth between me and the students with flustered eyes, shall we say.
Uh, hm.
Well, she's entitled to be embarrassed, I suppose.
"Professor Elia, there's nothing wrong with a person feeling embarrassed."
"No, Professor Niger! Th-that's not it! And I said everyone's dismissed—now…!"
Elia barked that at the students and then came jogging over toward me. The students, taking her flustered state as their cue, threw out one teasing remark after another as they filed out of the auditorium.
And amid them all, there was exactly one pair of eyes glaring at me sideways.
No, Lutz.
Even if you are harboring a crush, it will never, ever work out with Elia, so stop glaring at innocent people and go practice your swings, you frustrating brat.
You think you're at the stage in life for dating?
I smiled with all of that sentiment packed into it, and Lutz, looking rather indignant, soon spun his head away and followed the other students out of the hall.
And so the auditorium fell quiet, every student gone.
Professor Elia stared at me with a bewildered expression, then, apparently remembering her sweat-soaked state, flushed red.
"Really…, who just shows up out of nowhere like this?"
"Well, something told me I ought to come find you today, so I did. Was that presumptuous of me?"
"No! Ahem! It's not that, but… you think showing up like this makes up for it?"
It seemed pretty made up already, honestly.
She was holding a towel up over her face, peeking out at me from behind it with only her eyes—and there wasn't a trace of hurt feelings to be found in that look.
She had no tail, and yet I could practically feel an imaginary one wagging furiously. The fingers gripping the towel kept fidgeting. And her eyes, at some point, had begun to sparkle.
"…I should think not."
"R-right? Because I'm still very much upset, so you're going to explain everything. And before that, I'm just going to change my clothes."
"Of course. Take your time."
With that, she bolted off, feet drumming against the floor.
Her retreating figure practically radiated the sentiment 'I am SO happy right now' for anyone to read. I had never realized someone's utter inability to hide their feelings could be this adorable.
And so we walked the grounds together.
"So, here's what that whole situation was about…."
I explained everything to Elia, patiently and piece by piece. That the woman in question was none other than my homeroom student, Bellatrix Feltner, and that I had simply been holding a one-on-one consultation with my assigned student.
Granted, I couldn't tell her the full story behind it, but a consultation with my own student it had been, technically speaking.
"…"
"Does that make sense to you?"
At my words, Elia nodded slowly and silently. Her earlobes had gone red—some manner of emotional tempest was clearly raging within her.
"Aaugh… I'm, I'm so sorry…. And I had no idea, and I made that whole scene this morning…. Aaaaagh…."
"Haha… think nothing of it."
I gave her a soft smile.
She stole a glance at me, then hid her face all over again. She looked about ready to dive into the nearest mousehole, quite frankly.
But the misunderstanding was cleared up, and I was in the middle of counting my blessings for it.
"But, Professor… you see…."
"Yes? Go on."
Still keeping her head lowered, Elia continued carefully.
"It's just that… you still haven't taken me to a café, or a restaurant, or anywhere…. You only ever went with the Duke's daughter, never with me. Isn't that right…?"
"Uh, hm. That is technically accurate…?"
It certainly wasn't wrong—but was that really where this conversation was supposed to be heading?
Perhaps out of embarrassment, she buried her head even deeper as she spoke, hiding her face behind her hands.
"…Then you also feel sorry toward me, don't you?"
"Ah, yes. That's also true."
Ah.
So that was the angle.
Only then did I understand what she was after.
"S-so, um. If you feel sorry, then shouldn't you go with me too?"
Only then did she lift her head, sweeping aside the hands that had hidden her face.
And suddenly I understood why she'd kept her face covered all this time.
"It's too late today, so—this weekend."
The bashful smile that bloomed as she said it was, frankly, a beautiful thing to behold.
So beautiful, in fact, that far from refusing, I could only nod along in a daze.
That lovely face of hers, the red creeping across her earlobes and cheeks, those eyes drawing a soft line that pointed only at me—
They kept flashing before my eyes.
********
On my way home, I received what amounted to a date invitation from Elia.
Her smile at that moment had been so dazzling that I'd nodded before I knew it, but once I got home, the problem belatedly dawned on me.
I am, technically speaking, a murderer.
No—I am not, but this body is.
And not just any murderer—a character who might as well be the final boss. Was it really all right for him to go about leisurely falling in love?
That was the shape of my worry.
Elia was pretty, so I'd grinned like an idiot and said yes without thinking, but looking at it rationally, my careless actions could derail the entire plot, couldn't they?
Elia was, after all, Lutz's first love—and the catalyst for his awakening.
I wondered whether I was allowed to bend the story for my own selfish desires. Honestly, it had already warped quite a bit, but saving Elia would warp it far more drastically still.
And so, before falling asleep, I wrote a note.
Even as I wrote it, I wondered if this was really the right approach.
Well, naturally—asking a murderer for permission to use his body for romance was absurd even to me.
I left the note on the desk, closed my eyes, and when I woke in the morning, a reply was sitting there in its place.
He says to manage it myself, and well at that.
I read the note and let out a quiet laugh.
The peevish tone, so unlike Niger's usual self, was inexplicably amusing.
Granted, when a murderer gets in a mood, people die—yet somehow, thinking of it as Niger being sulky, it didn't feel like a crisis at all.
Perhaps I'd already gotten a read on his personality somewhere along the way.
Anyway. I got ready to go out.
I instinctively reached for my priestly vestments, and just as naturally, a jolt of intuition ran through me: I should not, under any circumstances, wear them.
Meeting someone for a date, dressed as a priest, invoking the name of Elohim…
If I were a woman, I'd have run for the hills.
Shaking my head, I dug a white shirt and black trousers out of the depths of the closet.
Niger's wardrobe contained nothing but vestments and formal suits anyway, so I took my satisfaction merely in the fact that it wasn't a priest's robe.
I changed, put on a watch, and after a moment's deliberation, decided to leave the Rosario behind.
I doubt even Lord Elohim expects a man to show up to a date wearing prayer beads.
Elohim.
Kindly confirm that this is so.
And so, having shaken off the last lingering traces of the priesthood as best I could, I stepped out of my home and—
"Ahem. Good morning, Professor Niger."
There stood Elia, waiting right in front of my door.