Dreams in the Shadows of Talent
This was a place of learning.
Honestly, it was more than a little bewildering. I mean, our top student chose this academy specifically for the underground virtual idols, right? Even I'd heard about those idols performing all over the place with illusion magic, living out in the countryside as I was. But who would've thought she would be into something like that? Despite her prickly exterior, was she secretly an otaku who loved manga just like me?
"But is this stuff even allowed?"
"Not in the academy proper."
Senior Minji explained that they had to hide in the dorms to broadcast, which was why they operated down here. The academy was a miniature society, after all, so it had its dropouts and failures too. Some people had to stay mediocre their whole lives, forever trampled as stepping stones for others.
In that sense, I was probably the doormat for the entire first-year class.
"The academy turns a blind eye to this underworld for good reasons. Total suppression just breeds bigger problems."
It couldn't officially accept them, but it didn't completely choke them out either. Banned by the academy, yet able to grow within the academy—how ironic and bizarre.
What circumstances did that second-year senior have? What drove her to decide on becoming an idol and push for six whole years?
To me, who was just getting tossed around and dreaming only of graduation, it was understandable but felt heavy first and foremost.
"To that kid, I'm a senior. It's like how this doomed mushroom helps her junior."
Senior Minji said the academy was divided into nobles and commoners, endlessly subdividing and competing, dragging each other down. But zoom in, and paradoxically, you'd find people acting as seniors to guide others, extending a hand to juniors because they'd learned from their own seniors.
"Whether it's good or evil, the academy teaches that every being has value and necessity."
Without people, even the competitive structure collapses. Those who don't get it obsess over grades and scramble ahead. But observing the human zoo lets you learn what to emulate and what to avoid, growing mentally in the process.
Admiration or envy, following leads somewhere—good or bad, results stick.
"In that light, your situation is pretty unfortunate."
She was working so desperately, yet couldn't avoid repeating the year, suffering through it. The worst pain is pouring your soul into effort and getting no recognition. But ironically, she was making others happy—what a wonder.
"As self-proclaimed Darkside boss, I have a soft spot for underdogs like her, so I sponsor."
Shine through effort, and those worth knowing will notice. Senior Minji pointed at our top student while saying that those who stuck by you in your darkest moments get rewarded together.
The concert had ended, the underground virtual idol giving her farewell, and things were winding down.
My head hurts...
To make my one and only family—Mom—happy, I'd get a good job after graduation!! That simple dream had gotten me into the academy... Had country life made me naive about society?
Seeing every type of person up close tangled my thoughts horribly. Plus, though Senior Minji didn't say it outright, her disdain for true failures and dropouts was clear.
She was saying those jealous haters of "graduating class" specials had nothing to do with her. And as a senior, she owed them no respect or admiration.
"Top student, you can smile like that too? Never knew, with your usual venom."
"Hah, how'd a masochist like this latch on? No sense at all?"
"Nah, nah... I get it."
Our top student gave me a look like I'd said something utterly ridiculous, staring in disbelief.
"What, you think it's funny?"
Was she talking about herself liking that stuff, or the senior dancing on stage? Not specifying and getting annoyed, I shook my head—no.
"Whatever Chocolate thinks of me ain't my business. But remember: don't talk about what you don't know."
"I meant respect tastes..."
Ephemera shrugged that mutual respect was best for that sort of thing. She glanced at Senior Minji behind me, pieced it together, and smirked.
"Reality's harsh. Without what you're born with... self-made success is impossible."
Not even commoner-born—if you're born a slave, you die one. Pathetic, she said, eyeing me. Commoners might be fine, but nobles see all the disgusting, loathsome sides.
"More brutal than that distant stuff? Being in the same generation."
Like how everyone from Mom's era despaired. Effort gets crushed by innate talent, she chuckled.
"Chocolate, seeing you work so hard, I apologize—my first impression was wrong."
"Well... circumstances, so I..."
"But? Everyone tries like that. I still hate your airheadedness."
Airheaded. Top student often slapped that label on me.
"What do you like? Any dream of what you wanna be?"
Her light smile and casual toss left me speechless.
I studied, but not because I loved it—just scrambling to keep up. She saw right through that.
Honestly, even if I had confidence swinging a sword...
"...In the end, it's all I can do."
That'd be my answer. But was it true? A countryside cheese-making farmer—what couldn't he do? I had no dreams or goals to speak of. No one to admire. What to say?
That's why she always called me airheaded.
"Commoners don't need the academy. They come for bigger dreams, better lives, higher places—that 'dream'."
Academy job means prime gigs... or connections under nobles. But you could study certifications in the city for three years and land city jobs without it.
"Even that pathetic black mage who bullied you dreams of professorship, right?"
Coming here ready to compete meant a real "dream" to chase.
"Academy's where you discover and shine your talents."
"You too, top student?"
"Yeah. I like hard workers. Who knows? Might meet someone talentless but relentlessly grinding—cool, right?"
She poked my chest, giggling.
"So I hate talent-wasters, those scared of their own gifts, the uncertain."
That's why she gave advice to my improving self lately. Coming close, smiling with her eyes—still kinda off-putting, but she said tormenting earnest learners wasn't her thing.
"Don't overdo chasing, Chocolate."
"Wh-why?"
"All-out effort backfiring into failure... drives people mad."
With that, she slipped me a ticket—"If you're into Ossie, next show's on"—and left. Senior Minji clenched her fist watching.
Thinking on it, I had valuable connections too.
KABOOM—!!
"Ah, Senior Kaoru fell. You okay?"
"Fine. Got a star—want it?"
She handed over a twinkling star she'd snagged mid-flight. I glanced at Senior Minji—how far did you launch her?!—but she looked away.
More importantly, surviving a fall from that height? Senior Kaoru...
"First-year top's a fun one. Wanna fight her sometime."
"Me?"
"Why beat a green girl I haven't scrapped with?"
I hadn't known, but apparently Greatsword Noob got dusted already. Hearing they'd clashed hard while I was gone—her grit and stamina matching—left me feeling left out.
Me too...! If I could just swing a sword...!! Real kitchen knife maybe...? With strength matching pink dumbbells, I couldn't lift one anyway...
Dagger skills? Never trained, so probably just tank hits, close in, stab. But that's not swordplay—that's murderer...
"She's right but wrong too. Effort's a talent ultimately."
Senior Kaoru said even against half-gods like me, persistent challenges without quitting would win eventually. I swallowed that I'd beaten her today.
"Talent's a chain—you gotta be ready to drag it and discard it."
Feeling superior at something is talent, but it has limits, so effort's essential. Key? Ironclad self-belief.
"Faith. Stubborn idiocy works too."
"Honestly, talent makes it fun, so you do more. People call only flashy stuff talent..."
Time invested in effort? Talent. Endurance? Talent. It applies everywhere in varied forms, she said. But folks judge only visible dazzle as talent, lumping others as "effort."
"Find your path, who cares if it's rough, suits you, possible—just charge dumbly."
No need for distant goals; walk toward what's ahead. Building muscle without quitting. Studying to not burden friends. Making friends first time, fumbling socially but trying.
"Living for Mom's great, but really nothing you wanna do? Academy's perfect to find it—not too late."
"Eh, not my place as third-year's biggest delinquent..." Senior Kaoru chuckled self-deprecatingly.
Some dream evil boss, others supreme strength.
"You got one good senior—ask anytime."
"For now... I'll try stuff slowly."
"Yeah, try repeating too."
"Not that..."
Joking, she patted my butt. Since I'd suffered, she'd buy food—leading the way.
"Dreams, huh..."
One life. Never seriously pondered what I wanted. Everyone had dreams, goals—I just swayed with the wind.
"...I'm at the academy, so yeah."
Just learn it.
"But your 'talent's overkill—sure effort's safe?"
"No, Senior... nice words then this?"
"Wanna be good senior, not make ones like me."
Hing. Seniors too mean.