Wanna Do Something Good with the Professor?
Wanna Do Something Good with the Professor?
After Magic Circle class.
Violet, the professor of Applied Magic Circles & Interpretation I and homeroom teacher of the Mezai class to which Ian belonged, was waiting in her office for a student.
She had summoned him the moment the lecture ended, so she wouldn't have to wait long.
Yet even that brief wait felt unbearable. Violet drummed her long white fingers against the antique wooden desk.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The fact that her elegant lavender hair was slightly disheveled suggested some head-scratching dilemma had been troubling her.
Now, however, her expression was perfectly composed.
'I won't know until I ask him directly.'
Just as her finger-tapping began to quicken slightly—
— Knock, knock!
A knock sounded at the door.
Violet practically bolted upright on reflex.
'Ah, it's a student.'
At that thought, she awkwardly sat back down.
She had gotten a little too excited.
Taking a quiet breath, Violet spoke with cool restraint.
"Come in."
Creeeak.
The deep reddish-black wooden door opened cautiously.
In walked a student with dark navy hair, looking somewhat pale and sickly. He glanced around briefly before meeting her eyes.
Black eyes that felt impossibly deeper than before.
Ian Blackangus.
He gave a polite bow.
"You called for me, Professor?"
"Yes. Come over here and have a seat."
Gesturing toward the visitor's chair in front of her desk, Violet observed Ian.
Confident yet courteous, he crossed the office, bowed once more, and carefully lifted the chair, sitting without the faintest scraping noise. To Ian, this was merely the standard etiquette of a modern Korean student, but...
Violet, unaware of that context, could hardly help drawing a different conclusion.
'... Look at that.'
Bowing his head to greet her. Pulling out a chair without dragging it across the floor.
Just as she suspected.
This boy has truly changed.
Why did that matter so much?
The 'Mezai' class was comprised entirely of students talented in magic or spirits.
Meaning courteous children were a rare breed.
Most were nobles, and that was a characteristic of magic-users in general.
'You have to know how to bend that arrogant neck if you want to succeed.'
Naturally, Violet never taught them this.
It wasn't something you could teach with words.
It was a lesson they'd have to learn the hard way someday.
Ian had been much like any other Mezai student.
No, he'd been worse.
His entire world had revolved around only a handful of girls.
As his homeroom teacher, there was no way Violet didn't know that.
'That boy has changed.'
A socially hopeless child had transformed.
He wasn't cowering or fidgeting.
He wasn't overly stiff or awkward.
All those visible signs of discomfort had vanished.
'He seems so... at ease.'
Violet had originally summoned Ian to ask how his skills in magic circle composition had improved so rapidly.
But that question had since been pushed far from her mind. Ever since she'd been drumming her fingers on the desk, Violet's interest had been captivated solely by 'Ian's transformation' itself.
'I absolutely have to test this.'
Violet adopted a somewhat professorial tone.
"Magic-users, by their very nature, construct hypotheses and verify them when a phenomenon occurs."
Ian gave a quiet nod.
"I've formulated a few hypotheses."
"Regarding what, specifically?"
"Why you appear to have changed so much, Ian."
Ian showed no visible reaction.
That only made Violet's eyes narrow further.
"First. Your body has been possessed by an evil spirit."
Flinch.
Ian's shoulders twitched almost imperceptibly.
An unexpectedly sharp strike.
Ian couldn't help the thought that crossed his mind.
'How did she figure it out?'
Was a professor at Lichten Academy simply built differently? That was the source of his surprise. He quickly schooled his expression, but it felt a beat too slow.
"......"
Predictably, Violet did not miss Ian's flicker of reaction.
She nodded as if she'd known all along.
"Yes. I understand why you'd be smirking inside. It's an outrageous hypothesis."
She was mistaken.
Ian gained a moment to recompose his face.
"... I'm not smirking."
"I saw you trying your best to suppress it. Very polite of you. Thank you for that."
Violet gave a sly grin.
A smile both mischievous and befitting a seasoned mage.
She abruptly leaned her face closer to Ian's.
Ian didn't flinch back.
He looked her directly in the eyes.
Deeply curious, impossibly probing eyes.
Belatedly, he noticed a bittersweet fragrance, a blend of various herbs, chemicals, and old books.
So this is what a mage smells like. Ian felt his adaptation to this fantasy world's setting increasing by the moment.
At his steady gaze, Violet's lips quirked upward.
"That's another thing that's changed. Before, your emotional control was utterly pitiable. If I'd leaned in like this, you'd have been stealing glances at my cleavage. Homeroom teacher or not."
"I apologize."
"No need to apologize. You aren't that person now, are you? You've grown a little more skilled..."
Violet deliberately fastened the shirt collar she had left loose.
"And become more mature."
With those words, Violet fell silent.
She had been unable to contain the desire stirring within her at the sight of Ian's transformation. The instincts she usually suppressed around students. Violet the mage kept trying to burst forward, overriding Violet the professor.
She couldn't hold it back.
"......"
Process and result.
Mages are often derided as trash who care for nothing but the result.
But that's a statement born of ignorance.
To a mage, the process is just as crucial.
Only by remembering the process that produced a good result can you replicate that outcome endlessly.
The discipline of magic circles is no different.
A magic circle is, ultimately, a process.
A process for manifesting great magic.
In that sense, Ian's metamorphosis was utterly fascinating to Violet.
What in the world had happened to him during that week he hadn't attended school?
What sequence of events could turn a hopeless waste of a boy into this utterly thrilling fledgling mage who now stood before her?
She was curious.
She wanted to know the 'process.'
If one could create more students like Ian by having them stalk girls, grow despondent, jump off the roof, and survive the fall—would it work?
If so, Violet would not hesitate to start pushing children toward the school rooftop.
The 'result' known as Ian was simply that alluring.
In short, even to a mage, the 'process' is important.
Because a process that can yield a beautiful result allows you to recreate that beauty infinitely.
The only thing they don't concern themselves with is the morality of that process.
Violet briefly considered the logistics of tossing a few students she disliked off a rooftop or a cliff. Then she recalled the Dean's face and snapped out of it.
'... She did say she wouldn't let me off next time.'
Tch.
Violet clicked her tongue softly.
And speaking of the Dean, something she ought to tell Ian came to mind.
This was the sort of thing a professor should never disclose to a student...
But again, a mage will condone any immoral process for the sake of a 'beautiful result.'
"Ian."
"Yes?"
"Let me inform you of one thing."
"... What would that be?"
"Soon, a disciplinary committee will be convened to decide on your expulsion. It seems some very problematic items were found at the spot you jumped from."
"... Is this something you should be telling me? Disciplinary committee summons are supposed to be kept strictly confidential. If anyone finds out you told a student, you could be putting yourself at risk, Professor..."
"Hahahaha!"
Violet laughed and clapped Ian on the back.
It wasn't particularly painful.
In fact, it felt closer to a caress.
"Because you're far too entertaining right now. Enough that I'd genuinely like to make you my research subject."
"... I'm honored."
"Honestly, I'm far too excited. I know a professor shouldn't be doing this to a student."
"Thank you."
"So don't expect my forgiveness if you get expelled. I'll actively help you, and I'll be expecting compensation in return."
Ian gave a quiet nod.
Then he asked.
"How should I repay you?"
"Hmm."
Violet feigned deep thought for a moment.
"Sleep with me?"
Violet's lips curved up softly.
But her feline eyes remained completely expressionless.
It was genuinely terrifying.
◆
"Hoo... That was seriously dangerous."
After bolting from Violet's room, Ian rushed straight to the bathroom.
— Whoosh.
He immediately splashed water on his face.
Scrubbed his ears, too.
"Sleep with her. I can't believe it."
A completely out-of-left-field statement.
The moment he heard it, goosebumps erupted all over his body.
At the same time, his brain kicked into overdrive.
Whatever it took to survive.
Whatever it took to escape the clutches of that deceptively skilled mage.
Fortunately, a half-plausible reply blurted out of him.
— Ahaha! A m-meal? Yes! I'll treat you to a meal!
Then he fled without looking back.
"Good grief......"
In trying to adapt to this fantasy world, he'd seriously underestimated this species called professors.
No matter how different this fantasy realm was from modern life, the two worldviews shared fundamental truths.
For example.
Death. Whether it's reality or fantasy, you die.
Violence. Getting hit hurts.
Pongpongi. Your fate is to get sucked dry and discarded.
Sleeping with a professor. Obviously, something you definitely aren't supposed to do.
"I really felt like a fly caught in a spiderweb back there."
... Professor Violet.
Let's be careful going forward.
"Still, I really am grateful she tipped me off about the disciplinary committee."
The disciplinary committee.
The committee that decides severe punitive measures, such as expulsion, for students at Lichten Academy.
Collecting evidence to prove his innocence was important.
"It's important, but..."
As these committees tend to go, it was going to be a trial steeped in sentiment. Yelling about evidence alone was meaningless.
He needed students and professors who would jointly assert Ian's innocence.
"... I need to make allies."
He needed people who would stand on his side.
In short, he needed comrades.
Another objective had just been added to his list.
'It won't be easy, but I've got to try.'
Having cleared his head with cold water, Ian returned to the classroom.
And then he stopped in his tracks.
"... Why is nobody here?"
Class should still definitely be in session,
but the room was completely empty.