Surviving the Academy (2)
Of course, the Imperial Academy has quite a few students from ordinary backgrounds too. As long as you have the money, it's nominally open to everyone—whether you're a special admit like me who got in on a recommendation letter, or born into a wealthy merchant family that can afford the massive tuition.
That's about 20% of the student body, by ratio? Discrimination exists, naturally. Students from other academies get two-person dorm rooms, but the one I'm in is a four-person setup. They claim it's due to a lack of space, promising expansions as soon as the budget allows—various excuses like that.
But everyone knows it's tacitly understood. Still, no one really complains. After all, class-based preferential treatment is common sense ingrained from birth.
Stepping into the room, all three of my roommates for the next six months were already unpacking on their beds. Checking the roster... two from the magic department, and two from swordsmanship—including me.
"Hey, hi?"
He was incredibly tall, with a massive build that looked rigorously trained. This guy's gotta be Kyle from swordsmanship, I thought.
"Magic department, Lloyd."
"......Uh."
I couldn't hide my utter bewilderment. You shouldn't judge by appearances, but... his muscles looked too good for that. Like he should be lifting dumbbells, not wielding a magic staff.
"Pfft, haha. I thought the same when I first saw him—definitely swordsmanship. I get it."
The red frizzy-haired guy scrunching his face over a chessboard leaned back in his chair and waved. "Swordsmanship, Kyle. That priestly guy's Macbeth."
"....H-Hi."
"Hey, hi."
No landmines here, it seemed. Rumors floated around about dorm campfires for grilling meat triggering fire alarm spells and point penalties, or getting expelled for card games. Fortunately, my roommates seemed normal.
"Hey, Macbeth. Ditch the chess and wanna go peep at the girls' dorm?"
"....Uh, um.... That's a bit...."
"Tch, no fun."
....Or maybe not? As those idle thoughts crossed my mind, a buzzing voice echoed down the hall with announcements.
Students, please exit your rooms and make yourselves visible.
They're laying amplification magic circles everywhere—even ones used for festival performances. How much money are they throwing around?
Clunk—The academy's prospective students began emerging one by one. Our room was out first, followed by someone dragged out half-asleep by a friend, another with a toothbrush in their mouth—quite the variety.
"Nice to meet you, new cadets entering the academy."
The burly man before us introduced himself as Rudy, the on-duty dorm supervisor and magic department instructor. As he started explaining, he noticed students still trickling out from opening and closing doors.
Rudy frowned, then grinned. "Hmm? Looks like some lazy worms haven't crawled out yet. And I've got a mountain of things to tell you."
"....Yawn. Sorry."
"Fine. What's your name?"
"....Simon Marquess family—"
"I asked for your name."
"......"
The atmosphere froze like ice, silencing the hall instantly. As all eyes turned, the drowsy male student snapped awake, edging back before mumbling his name.
".....Marco, sir."
"Hm. Right, Marco."
Suddenly, a small magic circle appeared above Rudy's head.
"....Chantless magic...?!"
Someone nearby looked shocked. ....I was a magic novice, so I didn't know the details, but it was clearly something impressive.
Then, a massive number floated above Marco's head, etching -50 into view.
-50 Points
"First penalty. Congratulations."
"......."
"Now, back to precautions—"
That was it. Rudy recited dorm rules, reminded us to keep rooms clean for inspections, and left.
"Man, I thought he'd fireball his face or something."
"Right? Even instructors can't harm students."
".....Sigh, when will these three years end? Dad insisted I get the diploma."
The kids buzzed, puzzling over the number's meaning, but soon lost interest and shuffled back to rooms.
...I had no idea then how crucial this point system was at the academy.
The next morning was orientation-style, so I was killing time with Kyle, waiting for the professor. Arriving early left nothing to do, so I was learning chess from the board he'd brought.
"...I get the queen's the strongest, but if the king dies, it's over, right?"
"....Yeah, pretty much. But ignore that—the key is controlling a wide battlefield."
".....Hmm."
It was ridiculously hard. I figured I'd win a game after a few rounds, but damn, what a complex game.
"Ugh, forget it. What's the point of this?"
"Where? Great for dating."
".....Huh?"
I stared at him incredulously, and Kyle grinned, explaining.
"Magic department girls love chess. Sure, not many cuties, but... like Elise Raymond, the top student? Eh, she's a bit dangerous."
"....Oh, so not just for fun—business for romance...?"
"Something like that. Handy to know. This too."
"....."
I'd sensed it yesterday—Kyle really wanted to get close to girls. ...Not that I minded. As long as no pervy stuff or creepy persistence, it was fine. Pretty natural, even.
As we chatted, students filled seats. The academy uniforms were sharp—black for guys, crisp style; girls in white shirts under thin blouses.
Tired of Kyle-talk, I opened a window, gazing out—
Tap tap—Someone poked my shoulder. I turned to see a female student.
Seven Ways to Capture a Man's Heart
"Okay, try it. Hello?"
"....Is it hello."
"Ehehe. Joking? Softer now."
".....Ah, hello?"
Ariel glared silently at Rachel, as if questioning if that was right. Rachel, now wearing glasses, continued lecturing the lady by writing on the green chalkboard with white chalk.
"....Hm, speech correction's good enough. Now, onto temptation phase two?"
"....."
Ariel swallowed. Temptation? She'd never imagined it. People always approached her first; she just chose.
"Men turn into helpless idiots with physical contact. Especially with a pretty face like yours, Lady."
Tap tap—Rachel wrote the three elements of temptation:
1. Soft tone
2. Physical contact
3. Charm appeal
"....D-Do I have to go this far...?"
"....Hah?!"
Rachel marched over at Ariel's words, mouth agape.
"Lady, that's how you lose him. Love is war!"
"....Not war...."
"You'll watch him get stolen right in front of you. If you like him, others will too."
"....."
Ariel pictured Leon—whispering he'd love only her, that face for someone else?
"....No way."
Vague faith, but she was certain. ...Almost denial. Sighing at Ariel's confident look, Rachel relented.
".....Fine. Maybe your crush likes you back—no girlfriend, no fiancée. Still, you want to be lovers quick, right?"
At "lovers," she blushed, nodding quietly.
"Then be aggressive."
Rachel pointed at Ariel, grinning. "First, greetings."
Ariel slowly approached Leon. Vastly different from three years ago. Boyish traits gone, back to the face and build she knew. Maybe that's why courage failed her.
....You always felt like this approaching me, huh.
One step. Another. Toward Leon.
Tap tap—The tickle on his shoulder. Leon slowly turned, meeting Ariel's eyes.
"....Hello."
One second. Two. Three.
.....Ten.
Leon just stared silently. Crushed by tension, Ariel bowed her head. His reply was sharp—
Cold.
"....Pleased to meet you. Lady Ariel von Saint."
No love, no soothing smile on Leon's face.