The Heroine Approaches the Truth
The promenade along the Aron Sea.
"Who are you?" Isabel's voice was low, carrying a sharp edge that cut through the sound of the waves.
A boy stood before her. He was short for a guy, and as he faced Isabel, he blinked in mild confusion.
"What do you mean, 'who am I'? I'm Hanon."
He stared at her as if he couldn't comprehend the question. In response, a tense, hostile aura began to bleed from Isabel.
"Don't lie to me."
Her face was dead serious as she glared at him. Hanon scratched the back of his neck, looking thoroughly put out.
"Well, this is awkward. I actually am Hanon, so being called a fake feels pretty weird."
To state his own name only to be treated as an impostor—Hanon let out a dry, incredulous chuckle.
"Fine, let's say that's the case." Hanon's lips curved into a lazy, slippery smile as he looked at Isabel. "How did you know?"
All he had done since arriving was call her out here. Yet, the moment Isabel laid eyes on him, she knew instantly that he wasn't the person she had been interacting with. To Hanon, this was fascinating. After all, their physical appearances were identical.
"He doesn't make expressions like that."
"My expressions, huh?" Hanon touched his cheek.
Even a slight shift in expression can completely alter a person's impression. Even if the features are identical, the passage of time and lived experience leave their mark. Isabel had pierced right through that subtle discrepancy.
"Your eyes are completely different to begin with. Do you really think he would ever look at me with such mocking amusement?"
To Isabel, the Hanon she knew was always a serious man. He might occasionally act with dramatic exaggeration, but at his core, he was upright, noble, and deeply caring of others. There was no way he would ever display such a flippant, frivolous attitude.
"And your posture is wrong too."
Unlike the other Hanon, who always stood tall and proud with his back straight, the boy before her was slouching, leaning his weight on one leg.
After hearing her out, Hanon looked genuinely impressed.
"I see. Playing someone else isn't as easy as it looks. I've learned something today."
He readily admitted his mistake.
"Though, even taking that into account, your observation skills are borderline abnormal. Just what exactly is your relationship with him?"
What is our relationship?
The question plunged Isabel into silence.
If someone asked her what she was to Hanon, she couldn't easily define it. She viewed him as a rival, yes, but entirely separate from that, she found herself constantly leaning on him psychologically. It was a tangled web of emotions that even she couldn't put into words.
"Do you have a crush on him or something?" Hanon asked with a bright, teasing grin.
A crush.
The moment she heard the word, Isabel felt a heavy, suffocating weight press down on her chest.
"...No," Isabel replied, her laugh laced with self-deprecation. "It's nothing as beautiful as that."
Whoosh—
A sudden gust of sea wind swept past her. Perhaps it was because of the deep shadows cast by the trees under the blazing sun, but her eyes seemed utterly devoid of light.
"Sounds complicated."
Hanon couldn't begin to fathom the depths of her feelings. He only knew that the shadow cast over her heart was incredibly deep. Not something I should meddle in.
Hanon decided to stop teasing. Instead, he resolved to extract the information he actually wanted.
"Well, then. By any chance, before he showed up, did you have any run-ins with someone? Like, say, someone who declared they would help you?"
"...What are you talking about?" Isabel stared at him, her brow furrowing in confusion.
"There's no way he would have come to the academy without a purpose. Yet, the very first thing he did on his first day was pick a fight with you, Isabel."
Hanon had made his own deductions based on the information he had gathered so far.
When he posed the question, Isabel stood perfectly still, offering no reply. But her eyes trembled.
Because deep down, she had harbored similar thoughts.
He had insulted Lucas at every turn, constantly tearing her down. It was as if he were deliberately trying to provoke her anger, forcing it out of her.
At first, blinded by the insult to Lucas's memory, she had clashed with him recklessly. But as time passed and she observed him day after day, she realized something. He wasn't the kind of person who would slander others without reason. In fact, in many ways, he was remarkably similar to Lucas.
It had never made sense to her that such a man would mock Lucas.
But... what if?
What if, by some wild stretch of the imagination, he had insulted Lucas specifically to keep her alive?
Hearing Lucas be defiled had sparked a fire in Isabel, giving her the raw anger she needed to survive. It had dragged her clawing and screaming out of the abyss of death. Back then, nothing short of an insult to Lucas could have stirred any emotion in her hollow shell. Looking back, that was the only thing capable of moving her.
And who was the one who had insulted Lucas?
It was him.
In that process, Isabel had eventually realized that her own despair and self-destruction were what truly insulted Lucas's memory. And so, she had broken down once more, utterly devastated.
At that moment, who was the one who had come to her side and pulled her back up?
It was him.
Isabel's eyes shook violently.
At the same time, memories of yesterday flooded back. The sheer terror that had bloomed in her chest the moment she heard he was dating Hania.
Just like her brother, and just like Lucas... he might leave her forever. He would never look at her or care about her again. The mere thought of it had plunged her into an indescribable abyss of dread.
Possessiveness and obsession. Another face of separation anxiety.
And yet, even then, he had appeared before her once more to comfort her.
Thump.
Isabel felt a sudden knock deep within her chest. She couldn't quite identify what it was yet, but one thing was absolutely certain: whenever she was on the verge of collapsing, he was always there to lift her back up.
Her lips parted, then closed, repeating the silent motion.
If this was all true...
Then why?
Why did he go to such lengths to keep her standing?
Isabel had met Hanon for the very first time in the first semester of their second year. Naturally, she had absolutely no connection to him prior to that. How could someone like that recognize her state of mind the moment he saw her and immediately start slandering Lucas to provoke her?
It makes no sense.
Even if it were a series of absurd coincidences, his actions were riddled with anomalies.
And above all, he seemed to know Jerion Academy inside out right from the start.
From his very first day, he had navigated the academy as if he knew every corner of it. Not only that, but he also possessed detailed knowledge about the second-year students. That would have been impossible unless he had deliberately researched them beforehand.
Someone who knew Jerion Academy intimately and had the means to investigate the second-year class...
Isabel slowly raised her head. Her gaze locked with Hanon's once more.
The boy before her claimed to be the real Hanon. She didn't believe him blindly, but all her previous theories had always had a glaring, empty void in them.
But what if the Hanon she knew wasn't the real Hanon?
What if he had been a fake from the very beginning?
If so, every single missing piece of the puzzle fell perfectly into place.
As the realization dawned on her, Isabel's pupils dilated. Seeing her reaction, the boy before her smirked.
If the Hanon she knew was an impostor... then who on earth was he?
...Someone who knows me?
Someone who would personally come all the way to the academy just to save her life.
Isabel's lips parted slightly. She refrained from jumping to hasty conclusions. There was no guarantee that the boy standing before her was telling the truth. He could easily be spinning a web of lies just to throw her into confusion.
Shaking off the swarm of doubts clouding her mind, Isabel focused on the present.
"I don't know what your angle is in telling me all this," Isabel said, slowly drawing the sword she had brought for training. The blade gleamed coldly under the sunlight, proving it was no mere wooden replica. "But I have no intention of humoring your nonsense any longer."
Whether what he said was true or false, his sudden appearance was bound to cause trouble for him. She could beat the truth out of this boy after she captured him.
"Oh, I'm terrified," Hanon drawled, looking anything but scared.
Irritated by his flippant attitude, Isabel immediately kicked off the ground. The distance between them vanished in an instant. Reversing her grip on the hilt, she swung the sword toward him without a shred of hesitation. Her plan was to strike his jaw with the flat of the blade and knock him out cold.
Just before the steel could connect, Hanon bent his spine backward to an almost impossible angle, displaying incredible flexibility.
She had expected him to dodge. Without pausing, Isabel pressed her advantage, unleashing a flurry of strikes. Yet, Hanon evaded every single blow of her rapid-fire combo.
What kind of movement is this?
With acrobatic reflexes and flexibility, Hanon performed a series of hair-raising evasions, looking like a circus performer. He was incredibly fast, like trying to catch a squirrel.
The Hanon she knew relied on his body's sheer durability, engaging in brutal, heavy clashes of force. This Hanon, however, had absolutely no intention of letting a single blow land. Their combat styles were polar opposites.
Hanon executed a series of backflips before landing lightly on his feet.
"One hundred points!"
His playful antics were deeply aggravating. But Isabel had to admit it: she wouldn't be able to catch him unless she went all out.
"Whoa, whoa, calm down. I have no intention of fighting you. I really just came to ask a few burning questions."
"It's a bit late for that after all your provocations."
"Provocations? I was trying to bond with you!"
Isabel decided there was no point in talking further. She took a deep breath, and a completely different pressure began to radiate from her.
Sensing the shift, Hanon tilted his head with a thoughtful hum and made his decision.
"Alright, I've got things to do, so I'll be taking my leave."
With that, Hanon spun on his heel and bolted without a moment's hesitation. Isabel immediately gave chase, but the gap between them widened in the blink of an eye. His legs moved so fast they were a blur.
"What...?"
Isabel stared blankly for a fraction of a second. Even by her standards, he was absurdly fast. She genuinely doubted if those were human legs capable of such speed.
"What is even happening right now?"
Pushing her tangled thoughts aside, Isabel sheathed her sword and sprinted after him.
Along the beach promenade, Hanon kicked up a storm of dust as he tore forward at a breakneck pace. He showed no signs of fatigue, his legs stretching out in long, effortless strides.
My original plan was to trick her into giving me information.
He hadn't expected her to see through his identity so instantly. He had picked the absolute worst target for his first attempt.
Who should I go for next?
There was the daughter of the Blue Magic Tower Master.
Just as he was thinking of seeking her out, Hanon noticed the sky above him suddenly growing bright. He looked up to see beams of light raining down toward him.
"Oh."
Letting out a soft exclamation, Hanon immediately veered off course. A split second later, a pillar of light slammed into the spot he had just occupied.
Boom!
The blast tore up the promenade. Witnessing the sheer destructive power of the spell, Hanon pushed his speed even further. He darted in a sharp zigzag, dodging the incoming beams of light with ease.
As he ran, his gaze drifted upward.
Floating serenely in the sky, staff in hand, was a young girl.
Sharin Sazaris. The daughter of the Blue Magic Tower Master.
"Ah, so he already revealed his true identity to her."
He should have targeted her first. Regretful, Hanon pivoted and headed toward the forest. The dense canopy and thick trunks would provide plenty of cover, rendering aerial bombardment far less effective.
Sure enough, Sharin's sniping magic ceased.
Hanon navigated the dense woods with fluid grace, weaving through the trees.
First Isabel, now this Sharin girl.
He had no idea why everyone at Jerion Academy was so incredibly violent. It was a shame to lose out on the information, but with the Blue Magic Tower Master's daughter hot on his heels, digging any deeper was out of the question.
Just as Hanon decided to make his escape, a hand suddenly burst straight through a thick tree trunk right beside him.
"Huh?"
Can a human hand actually pierce solid wood like that?
Hanon stared in brief bewilderment.
Beyond the splintered wood stood a man with gleaming, predatory eyes.
Grab!
Before Hanon could react, a powerful grip clamped onto the back of his neck, dragging him along with the shattered remains of the tree. It was too late to slip away. His body was violently slammed downward.
"Gah!"
Hanon hit the ground hard, his limbs splaying outward before going limp.
The man looking down at him—Vicaman—cracked his neck.
"Got you."
Vicaman let out a deep breath. "I understand your situation, and I'm sorry for getting violent. But I realized I wouldn't be able to catch you any other way."
"What a shame. I was just starting to have fun," Hanon said, recovering from the impact of the fall with a grin. He seemed to find Vicaman's actions thoroughly entertaining.
Vicaman clicked his tongue.
"Sorry, but we're closed for business."
It was time to clock out.