So, Course Registration

I'm seriously about to die. For real.

The ability assessment had ended with absolutely nothing to show for it, and every newly admitted student was already drifting on toward the next item on the schedule. The destination was the lecture-hall district, where nearly every classroom on campus stood clustered together—specifically the bulletin boards on the first floor, because that was where course registration happened. The place they had just left, for the record, was a special-purpose zone, opened only for ceremonies, unusual research, and other exceptional occasions.

"We're finally here!"

At someone's cheer I lifted my head, and there really was a building right in front of me. Huge structures stood arranged in a fan, and in the plaza at their center a great many bulletin boards were lined up in rows. Ordinary announcements probably went up ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠there too, on an ordinary day. The boards on one side held timetables with every student's name written on them. The boards on the other held guides to all sorts of courses, with thick stacks of cards stuck in beside them.

So this was it.

"Now then! Read the descriptions of the various courses here, and stick the card for whichever class you want onto your own timetable!"

Just like the guidebook had said.

"Please read the class times in the guide carefully, and attach your cards in the proper slots!"

This was the part that actually mattered. The moment that would decide the fate of an entire semester. Taking the disaster in the ability-assessment room as a cautionary tale, I had drawn up a far more perfect plan this time. There was only one thing that still worried me.

"You may choose freely until seven this evening, so I recommend our new students eat lunch first!"

Hm. Fair enough.

"The instructors will also be introducing their courses in the individual classrooms after lunch, so eating now would be even better!"

At those words the students headed for the dining hall their guide indicated, every last one of them, no one waiting on anyone else.

Then I'll just check one thing.

The boards with the students' timetables were divided by admission track, so finding my name was simple.

Here!

Trait Theory—the class that was supposed to be assigned automatically to students on the Special Trait Admission track. There had been one tiny, dreadful possibility. What if the instructor who had already pinned me turned out to be the one teaching it?

Rina Chelez.

Hm. No matter how I looked at it, that was a woman's name. Whew. Thank goodness. Whatever else might be true, the odds of that middle-aged man walking around with the name Rina were zero. A face like that and a name like Rina—they didn't match in the slightest.

A morning class still didn't thrill me, but one weight was off my chest, and that was enough. The instructors would be introducing their courses after lunch, so I could look everything over properly and register then. I had thought academy life was going to tangle itself into a knot from the very first day, and somehow it seemed to have worked itself out.

All right. Time to go eat.

I wonder what the academy cafeteria is serving.

Slow, unhurried footsteps.

"Well now—Sir Belont, isn't it?"

Surprise flickered across the face of the guide stationed at the boards. This was not a visitor he had expected.

"Ho ho. Hard at work, I see. All quiet?"

"Yes, sir. Nothing on my end. Shouldn't you be off to lunch yourself, sir?"

"I had a small matter to see to. Nothing of consequence—pay it no mind."

"A matter, sir? Whatever do you mean..."

Registration had not even begun. What business could there possibly be? Curiosity stirred in the guide.

"Hmm. This board belongs to the Special Trait Admission students, does it?"

"Yes, Sir Belont. That's correct."

Belont ran his eyes down the names, and at last his gaze stopped on a single timetable.

"As I thought. A trait, after all."

"Sir?"

"It's nothing. Merely talking to myself. That aside—I would like to assign my class to this student. Would that be acceptable?"

"If you have the headmaster's permission, then yes."

"I see. I'll secure that permission, then. May I attach the card in the meantime?"

Protocol said the permission ought to come first. But considering Belont's reputation, the guide was certain the headmaster would grant it as a matter of course.

"Do as you wish, Sir Belont."

"You have my thanks."

And so Belont's course was fixed to one timetable.

Satisfactory.

Belont let a brief smile cross his face in front of the timetable, then turned and made his way back to the faculty dining hall.

What kind of student could possibly warrant this?

For that Belont to show such interest. The guide turned over one theory after another, and settled in to wait for the students' return.

Ooh. So this is the academy dining hall.

Of the fan of buildings, the one in the center: its entire first basement floor was given over to a cafeteria for the students. A huge menu board hung at the entrance, listing all sorts of stalls and the dishes they served. You decided what you wanted, went to the matching stall, ordered, and took a number ticket. Familiar enough that I liked it immediately.

So. What do ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I eat?

I skimmed the board, and one item caught my eye.

Oh. They have steak?

Maybe that.

I had the money Amelia had given me, so my wallet could bear it. Back in my old world it was the sort of thing I could never afford, and now I was going to eat it here. Yeah. Coming to another world had been the right call. I joined the steak stall's line with my expectations running high, and that was when I heard them.

"What should we get?"

"How about this? Doesn't it look insanely good?"

"Right? It looks so good. Let's do this one!"

How. How did they manage that. Why do they already have friends. We haven't even had a single class!

Watching those social butterflies stroll around with friends already hanging off them, I felt a hot mix of deprivation and rage. I glanced around. For now, most of the students were still walking alone. Right. This was normal. The popular ones were the weird ones. I wasn't weird!

I was still privately burning at the insiders when my turn came.

"Order!"

A bright little chime rang.

"Oh my, you startled me! You don't have to shout, dear. I can hear you just fine."

Damn. I'd been so annoyed the volume got away from me. I went and made a scene.

"I'm sorry... could I order one steak...?"

"It's all right. A steak, was it? Here's your number."

"Yes... thank you."

This is all those popular kids' fault. Why are they making friends already? They're giving everyone else a complex. A public nuisance, that's what it is!

I finished the meal at a one-person table tucked in a corner of the hall. By then lunch was winding down, and the time for course registration was coming on.

All right. Time to put the plan into motion.

I shoved the empty tray into the return slot and came back up into the plaza. Students who had finished eating were already poring over the guides for all sorts of courses.

Guess I'll have a look myself.

I glanced this way and that, the same as anyone else. Only the thing I was looking for wasn't a class.

Ah. Found her!

What caught my eye was a girl with a short black bob. Small, compact, with something faintly decadent about her.

Hehe. Cute.

...What am I looking for, you ask? That. An effort to forge a bond. A pure, adorable little wish to make a friend. Nothing more.

It isn't creepy!

Granted, it stung a little that the only friends I wanted came limited to pretty, cute heroines. But people have types when it comes to friends! That's normal! Having rationalized it to my satisfaction and lightened the weight on my conscience, I sidled up beside her and checked which course she had been reading.

Uh. Hm... it looks kind of hard. That's fine, right?

While I hesitated, the girl with the black bob picked up that course's card and walked off. So she really was taking it. The type who enjoyed difficult classes? Hmm.

Fine. Why couldn't I? I've got years of veteran experience from reading novels. A brain that memorized the settings of all those stories cold. I can understand this in more or less the same way.

If anything...

"Cecina, do you know how to solve this? I don't get it."

"Oh—if you take this as the base, and then you ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠apply this..."

Heh heh heh. She might fall for my academic prowess and we'd hit it off in no time. I abandoned studying ages ago in my old world, but this place is my field.

"Hehehe..."

Already the future was fountaining up in my head. Grandchildren, even—no, not that. A happy future. Buckets of it.

Shall I, then?

I picked up a card identical to the one the girl had taken and headed for the board where my timetable was posted. Let's see. It had been around here.

Ah, here it is!

I found my name and moved to stick the card on—and stopped.

Huh. What was this? This hadn't been here. A class I had never seen before, not even a little while ago, was fixed to my timetable.

I definitely didn't remember putting that there. Had someone stuck it on by mistake? Thinking little of it, I reached to peel the class off. Click. Click. Huh. It wouldn't come off. I could probably tear it free if I really tried, but it was fixed so firmly that it didn't feel like a class I was allowed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to remove on a whim. Almost as if someone had forced it on...

H...uh?

A bad feeling swept through my head. Thump, thump, thump. My heartbeat picked up, and my breath came short.

This isn't—this can't be that, right...?

I whipped my head around.

Where—where is he?!

And there he was, the guide, answering other students' questions. Found him! I sprinted over and shouted. Please. Please tell me it isn't actually that.

"Excuse me!!"

"Goodness, you startled me. Is something the matter?"

"Th-there's a class I've never seen stuck on my timetable!"

I prayed with everything I had that it was some kind of mistake.

"A class you haven't seen...?"

"S-something called Special Assault got stuck on there all by itself! I'm telling you, I didn't put it there!"

"Ah. If that's what you mean..."

Please. Please...

"Sir Belont put that on himself, just a little while ago, and left. Instructors rarely assign a class in person. He must have taken quite a liking to you."

A heavy thud landed somewhere behind my ribs.

What... is this?

Something had gone wrong. Not a little wrong. Seriously, profoundly wrong. Was there a single instructor who would take a liking to me? Right now I was nobody—no reputation, no connections, just some ordinary sixteen-year-old student. Who would even know me well enough to force a class onto my schedule? The only instructor I'd had any point of contact with was...

That instructor. It had to be that instructor. He had set this up, no question! Forcing a whole class on me, of all things. What was he planning to do to me?! What did I even do to deserve this!!

"Student? Are you all right?"

"Yes... I'm fine."

Nothing would come out of my mouth. Was this actually real? Did he really want to torment me badly enough to go this far? The shock left my mind blank. Everything around me felt like a world on the far side of a screen, and I was the only one left in it.

What am I supposed to do now?

Every kind of worry bloomed in my head, and under it resentment welled up. Something brushed past me. A pair of students, slipping by.

"Want to take a class together?"

"That sounds so fun. Yeah, let's do it, let's do it!"

…

Ah.

I just wish the whole thing would fall apart.