A Dog and a Cat Can Never Get Along. (4)
Elia's earnest little request came to an end without ever being granted.
Which was only natural—it had happened on the walk home.
In other words, she'd been standing in the middle of a public street where other people were going about their day, begging me to call her "Noona" just once. It was while she was pleading so ardently that Elia finally came to her senses.
"Ah, a—? No, th-that. Please forget what just happened…!"
With all those people sneaking glances at her, and with me standing there speechless, she finally realized how pathetic she looked—or so it seemed, because that was what she said.
Forget it.
Honestly speaking, I doubted I'd ever be able to forget today's scene, but at her pitiful expression, I nodded along anyway.
That said, Elia like this was a little cute.
That was what I thought, half as an excuse—the same guy who'd told her to tone down the words and behavior unfitting for her age.
Her face flushed bright red, her steps quickening again and again. Sneaking glances at me, then whirling her head away the moment our eyes met. Insisting on the age gap, yet fidgeting with her hands like a child. And even through it all, smiling bashfully like she was happy.
The fault was mine, really—I simply hadn't wanted to send her home just yet.
Maybe I'd just been in a good mood, giddy that someone this lovely and kind could stand face to face with someone like me.
"Elia."
"Wueh…?"
I couldn't manage that embarrassing word "Noona," but I could at least leave off the "Professor."
So what if she was older?
She didn't feel older in the slightest, so this much was fine.
"I had quite a lot of fun today. Then, see you tomorrow. On Saturday, too, of course."
I smiled.
That dazed expression of hers—I liked it.
Although, once I got home and flopped onto my bed, I did give the blanket one solid kick.
And then time flew by.
On days without lectures I whiled away the hours as they came, spending my time in the library until Elia's classes ended.
Every so often, I'd run into Bellatrix, who'd come looking for me in the library just like I had. And every time, she would needle me like she was prodding a sore spot.
Did she still remember her own behavior from before—the days when she'd recoil at my mere approach, never mind a conversation?
I remembered it vividly: the way she'd asked if I was sitting next to her purely to torment her, told me not to speak to her, wore her desire to escape written all over her face without a shred of disguise.
Had she simply forgotten that stiff-faced coldness now, or was she still riding the high of having finally gotten the better of me that first time?
Either way, Bellatrix would sidle up to me and grin mischievously.
"Hmm, it seems the Professor is quite the man of leisure."
"Indeed. On days without lectures, I do have some time to spare."
"What a shame. If I had that kind of free time too, I wouldn't have needed to schedule our date on a Saturday of all days."
"Haha… Quite so."
Yeah, that was incredibly rude.
Did she really think she could get away with this? It made me want to grind her down with 500x Lecture intensity more and more.
Having said her piece, she walked away, and I watched her retreating back and thought.
Truthfully, this was a side of her I'd never seen before.
After all, in the novel, she had always maintained only two attitudes.
The aloof, dismissive manner in which she looked down on everyone, and the tsundere way she expressed her heart—only toward the protagonist, once she'd opened up to him.
And even then, a smile was a rare sight on her, I'd say.
She tended to convey her affection grudgingly, through complaint and understatement. And it worked—readers ate that kind of character up.
So that mischievous smile and those un-characterlike words struck me as strangely novel.
Deep down, I felt a quiet pride in the fact that I—someone who had merely existed outside the novel—had nudged even the smallest change in a character who lived inside it.
She disappeared around a corner where even her back was no longer visible, and I turned my eyes back to my book.
Unlike usual, this was one I'd pulled from the shelf where only novels were kept, purely to stave off boredom.
Which meant the title was…
The Saint—No, Saintess (Lewd Woman) Sounds Like a Lewd Slut.
Ooh.
With a title like that right out of the gate—now this is interesting.
Yes, this is more like it. This is what a novel should be.
Even Niger would have to nod along and agree that a saintess being lewd was only natural.
And in this world, too, that was apparently an undeniable truth, which gave me a strange sense of kinship.
Granted, there was no such thing as a "Saintess" in my own novel's world. This was a world where they had a Saint instead.
Then again, maybe that was exactly why an author here could boldly write something like this.
Though with no Saintess in existence, being deprived of that vast pocket of holy power was a bit of a shame.
Should have written a Saintess instead of a Saint.
Ah, and lost in the novel as I was, I should note: I had deliberately not told Bellatrix that Elia would be joining us on Saturday.
Simply because she'd been rude.
I wanted to see a bit of that flustered look on her face when Saturday came and she discovered she'd be facing a three-way encounter.
And while I was lost in such thoughts, I sensed movement behind me. A quiet voice was about to drift my way.
No—had been about to.
"Ah, that's right. Professor, um…."
"Yes? …Oh."
Bellatrix, who'd come back as if she had something left to say, glanced at the title of the novel in my hands and stopped dead in her tracks, her face twisting in horror.
"…So this is the taste of a priest of the Elohim Order."
"No, it's a misunderstanding. I merely pulled a book from the shelf and this happened to be it—"
True, the title—The Saint—No, Saintess, Sounds Like a Lewd Slut—had piqued my interest a little. But it was genuinely a misunderstanding.
"I suppose the priests who claimed to look upon Elohim alone have all died off. I never imagined they'd be gazing at a saintess who exists only in fantasy."
"No, Sister, it truly is a misunderstanding."
"Well, fine. I could even understand such tastes of yours, Professor, but you'd do well to restrain them. Reading a novel like that within the Academy walls is beneath you."
Oh, come on.
As if she'd found herself a brand-new toy, Bellatrix smiled that way and left again.
It had seemed like she'd genuinely come back to tell me something, but apparently her original errand no longer mattered.
I set the book down with a dull thud and thought.
A hack writer, a serial killer, and now a pervert with a taste for lewd saintesses.
Wow, what a combination—honestly enough to make my nether regions tremble too.
Damn it.
Saturday finally arrived.
Thanks to Elia's angelically considerate arrangements, and Bellatrix's devilishly wicked intentions, the day of our three-way meeting had at last come around.
"Niger."
[Yes. Speak.]
"Would you perhaps, for today, like to go out in my place…?"
As always, I was trying to unload the heavy burden onto him…
[If what you have to say is nonsense, I will ignore it.]
"…You don't want to? This time I really could give it up to you without a second thought."
I forced the words out through gritted teeth.
[…]
"Mr. Niger…?"
[…]
Apparently he'd dismissed my words as nonsense, because before I knew it, he was ignoring me.
And so, left with no choice, I got dressed.
Setting aside the priest's garb, all I had were the shirt and trousers I'd worn last weekend, so I dug those out again, so to speak.
Hmm. Even if not right away, I really did need to buy some clothes.
It would honestly be rude to my dates, showing up in the same outfit every single weekend.
Of course, Elia would probably gobble up this face even if I dressed like a beggar and love every second of it—but I wouldn't….
With my preparations complete, I stepped outside.
"Hello there!"
And as if it were the most natural thing in the world, there was Elia, waiting for me at my front door.
But, I mean…
"Professor Elia, am I late by any chance…?"
"No? You're super early. We've still got almost a whole hour until our date."
That's what I mean.
There was still an entire hour left before our appointment—just how long had she been standing here?
I looked at her with a face that had every bit of that thought plastered across it.
Even though I hadn't said a word, she seemed to read it perfectly, laughing an awkward "Hehe…" before continuing.
"Ah, um. Th-the thing is, I'm still not used to spending weekends together, so I got a little nervous…? So I came out early, ahaha…."
"How long have you been waiting?"
"Not long at all! Only about thirty minutes…?"
"…"
What on earth was she planning to accomplish, standing there waiting like some dog waiting for its owner?
I let out a long sigh.
Elia flinched her shoulders slightly, apparently having misread the meaning of the sigh, and before the misunderstanding could grow, I spoke up.
"From now on, if you arrive early, feel free to just come inside the house."
"Wueh? R-really…? You really mean I can come in?"
She blinked at me with wide, round eyes, like someone who'd heard the last thing she'd expected. Then she tilted her head at me, wordlessly asking me to say it again.
"Yes. If you stand out here in front of the door for ages like this, people are going to think I'm some heartless brute who mistreats his guests."
"Heheh, ehehe!"
What on earth kind of laugh was that?
Grinning like the happiest person alive, Elia went dat-dat-dat— running off ahead.
Like someone brimming to the top with anticipation, she walked on ahead of me, turned back, and beckoned with her hand.
"Hehe! Come on, hurry up!"
And then she was off again, dat-dat-dat, running away.
Look. Look at that tail fluttering behind her.
The hem of her skirt kept swaying back and forth, just like a tail.
Whether she meant to broadcast her joy with her whole body or not, that retreating figure alone radiated happiness from every angle.
No, seriously—Elia. That woman might actually be a dog.
I'd have to check later whether she'd stashed a tail and a pair of ears somewhere.