The Dignity of the Main Heroine
The reason I had appeared in the guise of Vikamon was simple.
First, I couldn't participate in the boycott by disguising myself as an active member of the academy.
This was the biggest hurdle.
Impersonating an existing person was already risky enough with Hanon.
Given the trouble that had already arisen from using Hanon's identity,
I couldn't afford to take on the risk of mimicking yet another person.
Therefore, I needed someone who was familiar with Jerion Academy's inner workings but was no longer a student.
Besides, Vikamon was a nobody with nothing going for him except his looks.
Furthermore, he had never formed any deep relationships, so rumors of his sudden reappearance wouldn't cause much of a stir now.
He was a man expelled from Jerion Academy and cast out by his own family.
Perhaps in the red-light district it would be different, but in an academy teeming with nobles who valued status and strength, very few would spare a glance for Vikamon.
It was a harsh truth, but Vikamon was just that insignificant.
Second, the identity I was currently using, Hanon, was a member of the student council.
Hanon needed a plausible reason to remain in the student council going forward.
I could have positioned him as a spy, but the boycott currently consisted of only two people.
Unless the movement grew much larger, acting as a spy was practically worthless right now.
Third, Vikamon possessed a motive that even the boycott members could understand.
Vikamon wasn't some random stranger whose presence would baffle the boycotters.
Vikamon had been expelled from Jerion Academy.
Naturally, he knew the academy's layout, and he harbored a deep resentment toward the institution.
On top of that, sneaking back into Jerion Academy out of fury over Nikita's death was entirely believable.
Most importantly, there was no risk of exposing a new disguise.
So, in my personal judgment, he was the most useful card to play.
And that card had just yielded a completely unexpected result.
The third floor of the abandoned building.
Inside the chemistry lab.
I stood frozen, face-to-face with Isabel.
Isabel's eyes quietly swept over Eiring and Rozamin.
The two of them were also frozen solid by her sudden appearance.
Isabel's gaze drifted back to me.
The moment our eyes met, I quickly spoke up.
“Isabel Luna. It's been a while.”
“Ah, yes... No, I mean, indeed it has,”
Isabel replied, her eyes filled with a subtle, complicated emotion.
Damn it.
That reaction meant she knew I was Hanon.
Wait, no. My true identity is Vikamon anyway, so does this mean I've actually deceived her twice over?
Before the situation could grow any more convoluted, I stepped forward.
Seizing the moment while everyone was still paralyzed, I grabbed Isabel by the wrist and dragged her out of the room.
“Ah, wait! You—!”
Isabel protested as she was pulled along, but I paid her no mind.
I led her into another empty classroom and finally let go of her wrist.
As soon as I released her, Isabel cradled her wrist with her other hand.
Had I pulled too hard?
But I had no time to feel guilty about that.
“Isabel, why on earth are you here?”
At my question, Isabel's shoulders flinched.
Naturally, there was absolutely no reason for her to visit this abandoned building.
Hesitating, she subtly averted her gaze.
That reaction confirmed it. She knew I was Hanon.
I decided to drop Vikamon's tone.
“...Did you follow me?”
“N-No! It's just... I saw you heading somewhere strange. I only followed you to keep an eye on you, in case you were up to no good again!”
I stared at her blankly.
So, in other words...
She had stalked me?
I never thought I'd see the day I'd have a stalker.
First Associate Professor Barcop, and now her.
My head throbbed.
It seemed Isabel was keeping her eyes on me far more often than I had realized.
At this rate...
There was a high probability she would be watching me no matter what I did.
“I never pegged you for the type to do something so underhanded.”
“U-Underhanded? I was just—!”
Isabel, clearly feeling guilty, couldn't find the words to finish her sentence.
But then, as if suddenly remembering something, her brow furrowed.
“And who's the one being underhanded here anyway? 'Overthrow the Student Council'? You're a member of the student council yourself!”
Isabel declared triumphantly, asserting she had a perfectly valid reason to monitor me.
The stalker was acting mighty proud.
What an unfair world.
“And in that guise, of all things...”
Isabel stared at my face, her expression clouded with a storm of thoughts.
In the past, Vikamon had a history of tormenting Lucas.
Even if he had repented in the end, he was hardly someone Isabel would be glad to see.
She voiced her confusion.
“More importantly, how do you even know that man—?”
“I think I have more than enough reason to despise the student council,”
I interrupted before she could question further.
Isabel faltered.
She was well aware of my close relationship with Nikita.
The Nikita I had followed was dead.
It was only natural for me to lash out in anger.
Isabel had no idea that I had actually saved Nikita.
Iris was the only one who had vaguely pieced that truth together.
Isabel's eyes shook violently.
I read the emotions swirling within them.
Like me, she had lost someone precious.
She understood that agony better than anyone.
“That's...”
In the wake of Lucas's death, Isabel had discarded her emotions and given up on life.
The only target for her resentment was the Apostle who killed him;
she had nowhere else to direct her malice.
But my case was different.
I had a clear, defined target for my wrath.
Isabel's eyes slowly widened.
“...You, don't tell me... Was that your intention when you approached Lady Iris as well?”
A massive misunderstanding had just taken root in Isabel's mind.
Ah.
I immediately realized what she was thinking.
I had been remarkably detached following Nikita's death.
While part of it was because I was busy preparing for the upcoming scenarios,
the main reason was that I knew Nikita was alive, so I felt no real grief.
But to Isabel, this detachment must have seemed incredibly bizarre.
A close companion had supposedly been blinded by revenge, attacked the princess, and met her demise.
There should have been some emotional fallout.
Yet my subsequent actions were even more incomprehensible to her.
Right after Nikita's death, I had entered a relationship with Hania.
Even if it was a contract relationship,
staying by the side of Iris—who had played a major role in driving Nikita to madness—must have looked utterly bizarre.
So that's why Isabel was so fixated on my relationship with Hania.
It wasn't just psychological jealousy; there was this logical inconsistency as well.
And now,
the question mark in her mind had finally been answered.
She had concluded that the reason I approached Hania and stayed near Iris was all to exact revenge for Nikita.
“...That is a misplaced wrath.”
Isabel looked at me with a fierce determination to stop me.
Her eyes blazed with a brilliant amber light.
Undeterred by the dark of night, Isabel conjured a metaphorical field of sunflowers around her.
It was the righteous resolve of a heroine trying to steer her rival away from a path of self-destruction.
A display truly fitting of a main heroine.
And I was the rival who had to exploit this resolve.
Though unintended, a perfect pretext had been established.
Isabel would no longer doubt the motives behind my actions.
That alone was a massive advantage for me.
“And what exactly is a misplaced wrath?”
From this moment on, I would play the part of a vengeful ghost seeking retribution for Nikita.
A hollow chuckle escaped my lips.
“Isabel, if Lucas had been murdered by someone, would you have just shrugged and accepted it?”
Isabel's eyes widened.
But she couldn't find any words to refute me.
She knew the pain of losing a precious person better than anyone else, after all.
“Well, I won't.”
A simulated fury seethed in my eyes,
burning hot and fierce despite being a lie.
“No, I can't.”
Fortunately, with all my practice, acting was second nature to me.
Long ago, to overcome facial paralysis caused by an injury, I had spent day and night practicing facial expressions.
When it came to micro-expressions and controlling my facial muscles, no one could match me.
Isabel's lips parted, then closed.
She seemed to have a mountain of things to say, but she couldn't bring herself to speak.
In her eyes, the current me was unstoppable, no matter what she tried.
“So don't get in my way.”
“I refuse.”
An unyielding flame of fighting spirit that refused to bow to injustice.
A remnant of that very flame still lingered deep within Isabel's heart.
She, too, was someone who had once caught the spark of Lucas's fire.
“I will stop you. I have no intention of standing by and watching you walk down that path.”
Isabel stared straight into my eyes.
“By what right? Shouldn't you be happy? A thorn in your side is destroying himself.”
“If it were Lucas...”
She clenched both fists tightly and cried out with all her might.
“...I know this is exactly what he would have done!”
Just a semester ago,
her eyes had been dead, devoid of any strength.
Now, they blazed with vibrant life.
Those eyes possessed a strange, magnetic power that instilled strength in anyone who looked into them.
Within Isabel's body,
the signs of awakening were finally beginning to stir.
The main heroine who would one day thrust her sword alongside Lucas against Akjon—
her innate dignity as the story's true heroine was beginning to blossom.
Yes, Isabel.
You always possessed the potential to stand in for Lucas.
Which meant you also had the strength to drive the scenario forward.
The protagonist of this scenario...
will undoubtedly be Isabel.
In that case, the trial of this scenario...
can simply be me.
The student council boycott was originally a scenario where Lucas and his companions were meant to stop it.
Swept up in the boycott against their will, they were supposed to stand against the boycotters.
And Isabel was one of those companions.
The gears of the scenario were beginning to align once more.
“And...”
Isabel's voice did not waver.
“...I don't want to see you fall and disappear like that, either.”
Her final words carried a deep, desperate sincerity.
Isabel was projecting Lucas onto me.
And she wanted me to remain her goal, her rival, moving forward.
Because she relied on me as her anchor,
Isabel absolutely refused to let me crumble.
If that's the case...
Isabel would try to resolve this on her own rather than telling anyone else.
If she exposed my secret to others, I would fall instantly.
Fortunately, I had stumbled into a perfect safety net.
“Fine, then.”
I shifted back into the form of Hanon and turned away.
“Do whatever you want.”
With this, the bait was laid.
All that was left was to progress the scenario.
As their trial,
I would play my part.