Seron's Prince Charming
I found myself standing face-to-face with that idiot, Seron.
I quietly retraced my steps, trying to figure out exactly how things had ended up like this.
Lately, Seron had been spending a lot of time on her own.
Naturally, I was largely to blame for that.
Since I was constantly surrounded by other girls—completely unintentionally, mind you—there was simply no room for Seron to squeeze her way in.
Eiring, one of the founding members of the student boycott, had noticed Seron's isolation and repeatedly tried to recruit her.
Eiring's primary motive for targeting Seron was simple enough.
Seron was known to be close friends with me—or rather, with Hanon, a member of the student council.
She wanted to drag Seron into the boycott group in the hopes of extracting some inside information.
It was a logical enough strategy, in its own way.
The problem was that Eiring proved far more persistent than anyone could have anticipated.
Now, Seron didn't exactly have a gentle, accommodating personality, so she easily could have rejected the girl outright.
Instead, it seemed she had decided to use this opportunity to spy on the boycott group and feed their secrets back to me.
So, playing along, she had reluctantly followed Eiring to their meeting place.
If I looked at that fact alone, it was actually a rather admirable gesture.
Right up until she ran into me while I was in my Bikamon disguise, that is.
Standing in a dark corner of the room, I watched as Seron repeatedly stole glances at me.
Every single time our eyes met, her face flushed a deep crimson, and she hurriedly looked down at the floor.
Fidgeting nervously with her feet, she looked the absolute picture of a young maiden hopelessly in love.
I'll say it again: Bikamon is incredibly handsome.
He's so ridiculously good-looking that it bears repeating.
It wasn't just a fluke that he'd managed to sweep women off their feet as a host in the entertainment district and even seduce the mad soul mage, Vinesha, purely with his looks.
He was tall, sharp-jawed, and strikingly handsome.
On top of that, those dark, inexplicably melancholic eyes possessed a magnetic charm that practically bewitched anyone who looked into them.
It wasn't entirely hard to understand why Seron had fallen head over heels at first sight.
She had always insisted that her ideal type was a tall, masculine, ruggedly handsome man.
Compared to a pretty boy like Nia, Bikamon possessed a raw, masculine beauty.
He was the literal embodiment of her dream man.
The only problem was... that man was me.
A sudden headache began to throb behind my temples.
That absolute idiot.
I didn't want Seron getting dragged into this boycott mess.
In the end, the boycott group was destined to fail, and every single member would face severe disciplinary action.
It was only natural, considering they were actively inciting a rebellion within the academy.
I needed to find a way to chase her out of here before things got out of hand.
But seeing how she wasn't paying a single shred of attention to Rozamin's passionate speech and was instead staring unblinkingly in my direction, it wasn't going to be easy.
"President!"
Right in the middle of Rozamin's grand speech, a panicked student burst through the doors.
Judging by the glowing spheres of light hovering around him, he was likely a student from the Spirit Department.
"The student council patrol is on their way! We need to clear out of here, fast!"
The student council wasn't entirely incompetent.
As the ranks of the boycott group swelled, rumors of their secret gatherings had inevitably reached their ears.
Though they called themselves a 'boycott,' they were essentially a group of disgruntled delinquents causing trouble.
Since guiding and disciplining such students fell under the student council's jurisdiction, they had immediately dispatched patrols to disperse them.
"Those wretched student council lackeys! Everyone, today's meeting is adjourned. Disperse, quickly!"
At Rozamin's command, the students—many of whom had just been casually munching on snacks—scrambled to their feet and began to flee.
Since I had previously dropped anonymous warnings that patrols could strike at any moment, they all moved with surprising coordination.
I was just about to make my own swift exit when I paused.
I spotted Seron standing frozen in the middle of the room, looking utterly bewildered.
That absolute airhead.
It seemed she had been so busy staring at my face that she hadn't processed a single word of the warning.
If I left her like that, she would be caught red-handed by the approaching patrol.
I couldn't let her take the fall for this, so I lunged forward and sprinted toward her.
Grab!
I snatched her by the wrist.
"W-What?"
"Let's go."
Dragging the thoroughly bewildered girl behind me, I sprinted down the dusty corridors of the abandoned building.
The hallway was dead silent, the other boycott members having already vanished down their respective escape routes.
I was heading toward my pre-planned escape route when the distinct sound of heavy footsteps echoed from the stairwell ahead.
Dammit. They were coming up through my exit.
Talk about terrible luck.
I skidded to a halt and scanned our surroundings.
Spotting an empty classroom, I threw the door open and pulled Seron inside.
Inside, an old, dusty wooden lectern sat at the front of the room.
I quickly dragged her behind it, pulling her down as we crouched in the cramped space underneath.
The space beneath the lectern was incredibly narrow, forcing our bodies flush against each other, but I didn't have the luxury of worrying about that right now.
I could feel Seron squirming uncomfortably, her breath hitching as she was pressed tightly against my chest.
"Just bear with it for a second."
The moment I whispered the words directly into her ear, Seron's entire body gave a violent shudder.
Then, she went completely still.
Clack, clack—
The heavy thud of boots echoed from the hallway outside.
"Man, what a pain to be dragged out in the middle of the night."
"There are reports of a delinquent group gathering here. As the student council, it's our duty to handle it."
That lazy drawl belonged to Midra Penin, the first-year Martial Arts runner-up.
The other voice belonged to a fellow second-year student council member.
Judging by their casual tone, they were only investigating a vague rumor and weren't conducting a thorough sweep.
If they had been serious, they would have cast barrier magic to seal off the entire abandoned building first.
They probably would have brought along assistant professors or teaching assistants, too.
Did Sylvester leave me out of the patrol rotation out of consideration for what happened with Nikita?
Ever since the incident with Nikita, President Sylvester had refrained from assigning me any demanding student council duties.
Assuming that I, as Nikita's closest assistant, must have been deeply traumatized by her departure, he was kindly giving me time to recover.
He might be utterly incompetent, but he really isn't a bad guy.
It was just a shame that incompetence seemed to be his defining trait.
While I was lost in thought, the footsteps of the student council members gradually faded down the corridor.
Realizing the danger had passed, I let out a quiet sigh of relief and turned my head.
Only to find myself staring directly into Seron's eyes.
She was gazing up at me with a completely dazed, glassy-eyed expression.
Her face had long since turned as red as a ripe tomato, and her lips were parted slightly.
I stared down at her for a moment before finally speaking.
"Hey."
"Ah—!"
Thwack!
Snapping out of her trance, Seron scrambled to sit up, only to slam her forehead violently against the underside of the lectern.
"Nghhh...!"
She clutched her forehead, swallowing a pathetic whimper of pain.
Yet, more than the physical pain, she seemed utterly mortified to have made such an embarrassing fool of herself right in front of me.
"Are you alright?"
I had almost reflexively called her an idiot.
Swallowing the insult just in time, I leaned in to inspect her forehead.
I was genuinely worried she might have cracked her skull.
"Ah... y-yes, I'm perfectly fine."
Seron spoke with an uncharacteristically polite, demure tone, acting incredibly shy.
Then again, she had a head like a rock, so there was no real danger of it breaking.
"That's a relief."
Keeping my true thoughts carefully locked away, I crawled out from under the lectern.
Standing up, I offered a hand to Seron, who was still frozen under the desk.
Flinching at my every movement, she tentatively reached out, took my hand, and let me pull her up.
The way she carefully smoothed down her skirt as she stepped out made her look like a delicate, fragile maiden.
Soft moonlight streamed through the dusty classroom window.
The night sky was cloudless, leaving the moon to shine in all its brilliant glory.
Seron stared up at me, completely spellbound, as if she were looking at a ghost.
Then, she suddenly gasped and shook herself awake.
"U-Um... what's your name?"
She asked, her cheeks flushing a deep pink.
It seemed she didn't recognize the face of Bikamon, even though he was a year ahead of her.
Though surely she must have heard the name before.
Knowing Seron, she probably just hadn't bothered to look up what he looked like because she hadn't cared back then.
But more importantly, I was currently Bikamon.
How would the real Bikamon have responded to a question like this?
If she didn't know who I was, there was no real reason to enlighten her.
Besides, I was going to make sure she never set foot in these boycott meetings again.
"It's not a name you'd gain anything from knowing."
"Oh..."
Seron let out a soft, disappointed sigh.
Judging by her expression, she had probably spun some tragic backstory in her head to explain my mysterious reluctance.
"More importantly, don't come back here after tonight."
"W-What?"
"This isn't a place for someone like you. Nothing good will come of it."
Seron hesitated, shifting from foot to foot.
"B-But..."
She kept stealing glances at my face, looking as if she had a million things she wanted to say.
She really was incredibly stubborn.
I felt a sudden, powerful urge to flick her forehead.
"Then... where can I find you again?"
She had clearly spent a lot of effort gathering the courage to squeeze those words out.
The moment the question left her mouth, she bit her lower lip hard, looking utterly mortified by her own boldness.
Where can you see me?
You'll see me the second you walk into class tomorrow morning.
I suppressed the urge to give her a look of pure pity and slid the window open instead.
"It's better if we don't meet again. It won't do either of us any good."
If she ever found out that this mysterious prince was actually Hanon, she would probably die of sheer embarrassment.
While teasing her about it would be incredibly satisfying, I didn't want to ruin our friendship over a silly misunderstanding.
For better or worse, Seron was still my friend.
I wanted to keep things normal between us.
So, I decided to generously turn a blind eye to her little crush tonight.
What are friends for, after all?
As far as I'm concerned, your first love never happened.
The next morning, I headed to the academy just like any other day.
Actually, scratch that.
To be perfectly precise, it wasn't exactly a normal morning.
After returning to my room last night, I had immediately snuck over to the girls' dormitory.
Disguised as Hania, I had slipped into Princess Iris's chambers.
Iris had been sitting slumped in her armchair, the soothing white noise of the Sound of Argol playing softly in the background.
The moment our eyes met, a faint, weary smile touched her lips.
It was the exact same smile she had worn back in the depths of the Demon Palace.
She was pushed to her absolute physical and mental limits.
Without a word, I gently guided her over to her bed and helped her lie down.
Then, I quietly let her pull me in, acting as her personal bolster.
We whispered quietly about nothing in particular until she finally drifted off.
It was just mundane, trivial chatter.
But it was exactly what she needed to quiet her racing mind.
Before long, her breathing slowed, falling into a deep, rhythmic pattern.
When Lucas used to help her sleep, he apparently gave her a lap pillow.
I had no idea how I had ended up serving as a human body pillow.
Still, as long as it kept her nightmares at bay, I was willing to play the part.
After successfully fulfilling my duties as her emotional support plushie, I had carefully untangled myself from her grasp at dawn and swapped places back with the real Hania.
Thanks to that, Iris looked remarkably refreshed today.
Walking with a proud, confident stride free of any lingering exhaustion, she exuded the flawless dignity of an Imperial Princess.
"I want to sleep with Hanon every single night."
"Lady Iris, please never, under any circumstances, say something like that in public."
She had just casually dropped a statement that could easily cause a national scandal.
If any of the Third Princess's political supporters had heard that, they would have had a collective heart attack.
And I, of course, would be executed on the spot for high treason.
"I'm counting on you next time, too."
Clearly, Iris had no intention of letting her favorite sleep aid go.
It seemed that whenever insomnia struck, she fully intended to summon me to her bed.
For now, I had no choice but to play along until she was completely freed from her nightmares.
Once she was cured, we could finally put an end to this absurd arrangement.
Sighing at the ever-growing pile of complications in my life, I walked into the classroom.
There, sitting at her desk unusually early, was Seron.
She was so deeply lost in thought that she didn't even notice me walking in.
Remembering her antics from last night, I decided to tease her a bit and quietly crept up behind her.
"Haaah..."
Completely oblivious to my presence, Seron let out a long, dramatic sigh.
Her eyes were misty and distant as she stared longingly out the window.
"My prince..."
She whispered the words under her breath.
I stared blankly at the back of her head.
I knew exactly who she was daydreaming about.
And to think she had once dismissed that very same face as looking like a burnt sweet potato.
This absolute idiot.