Jermiel lay on the bed, grinning from ear to ear.
A few moments later, a sharp, threatening voice rang out.
“How many times have I told you that this is my bed?”
“Yours feels softer.”
Jermiel stretched luxuriously before sitting up.
“As expected, Leon’s bed really is the best.”
Leon’s brows twitched in irritation.
Usually, when Jermiel snuck into his room like this, it meant one of two things—
either he wanted to brag about something related to Saila, or he wanted to discuss something about Saila.
Judging by that face, it’s definitely the first one.
His eyes were practically sparkling with madness.
The best way to deal with someone this subtly deranged was simple—don’t engage.
“Get out.”
“Look at this.”
Jermiel pulled something out from his pocket.
Leon didn’t even glance that way.
“I said, get out.”
“This is from Saila.”
At those words, Leon’s gaze reflexively flicked toward the note.
“She told me to give it to you.”
“……”
“You know your expression just brightened up, right?”
“Did you come here just to deliver a note?”
“Of course that’s a lie. You think I’d fall for that? It’s a letter for me.”
“……”
Jermiel chuckled, proudly showing off the note Saila had given him.
“She asked if I could spare some time tonight. You think this might be a date?”
“Hardly. She probably wants to discuss something important.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Leaving those words behind, Jermiel disappeared out the window.
The bed is still warm…
That meant Jermiel had been hiding there for quite some time—at least an hour, maybe longer.
Just to brag about this nonsense?
What irritated Leon most wasn’t Jermiel’s intrusion—
but the fact that his pride was actually wounded by something so trivial.
That night, Leon tossed and turned.
“It’s bothering me.”
He was unreasonably annoyed.
Wait… what was that guy’s name again?
The one who’d recently gotten on Saila’s nerves and was thoroughly humiliated for it.
Ferbeck, was it?
Leon sat up and jotted the name down in his notebook.
You’ll never hold an official post in the Central Empire. I’ll make sure your name disappears from every imperial event.
Saila might have forgiven him, but Leon had decided he would not.
Looking up at the night sky, he muttered softly—
“This isn’t about taking my anger out on you, Ferbeck.”
Saila entered her room with Dorfina and gasped.
“When did you get in here?”
“Not long ago.”
Dorfina was struggling, her limbs flailing helplessly—Jermiel had restrained her.
“Mmph! Mmph!”
“Sorry,” Jermiel said gently. “I thought she might scream when she saw me. I’m Jermiel—Saila’s friend. Relax. If you promise not to scream, I’ll let you go.”
Dorfina hesitated, then nodded. As soon as she relaxed, Jermiel released her.
Smiling radiantly, he turned to Saila.
“I thought you’d hate it if I came too openly.”
“…Thanks for the consideration. But—your clothes…”
He wasn’t wearing the usual student uniform.
The fabric clung tightly to his body, highlighting every muscle and contour.
It was a bit revealing, but his physique made even that outfit look good.
Wow…
He looked like a statue carved by a god of sculpture himself.
If Saila had been less composed, she might have actually exclaimed aloud.
—Someone else did.
“Wow…!”
It was Dorfina.
She stared blankly at Jermiel’s body before snapping back to herself and quickly looking away—
though she kept sneaking glances at him.
Saila couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief.
Aren’t you supposed to be into men?
Was Dorfina’s gender identity beginning to shift?
Then again, Jermiel’s beauty did transcend gender.
Saila decided to let it slide.
“I had to dress like this so people wouldn’t notice me. I made these clothes using materials from the alchemy class. A little embarrassing, but I hope you understand.”
Oh, I understand. You can wear that every day if you want.
Saila almost blurted that out but kept a straight face.
“Do you know anything about Troy?”
“Troy?”
“Yeah. One of the last four remaining in the swordsmanship class.”
“Ah…”
Jermiel remembered.
“The one who lost to Hamune, right?”
“Yes.”
“Why do you ask?”
Jermiel’s eyes narrowed slightly.
He’d thought she called him to ask him out, but instead she was asking about another guy?
“I’m just curious about him. Thought you might know something.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t know a thing.”
A sharp smile curled at Jermiel’s lips.
Troy… huh?
What an irritating name.
“I’ll look into him. See exactly what kind of bastard he is.”
“Huh?”
“I mean, what kind of person he is. I just got curious, that’s all.”
Did he just say bastard?
Saila tilted her head in confusion, but Jermiel only kept smiling sweetly.
That night, Jermiel sneaked once again into Leon’s bed—and immediately groaned.
“You’re seriously insane.”
He began plucking thumbtacks out of his body one by one.
Did he really scatter thumbtacks right next to where he sleeps?
If Leon had rolled over even slightly, he’d have stabbed himself.
“More amazing is how your body doesn’t even flinch when you’re pricked.”
“Please. My mother can swim in lava and come out fine.”
“Next time, I’ll coat them with poison.”
Jermiel scowled, still pulling dozens of tacks from his skin.
“Ugh… these stupid things are so annoying.”
It didn’t actually hurt—but it was tedious and irritating.
Leon, satisfied with Jermiel’s discomfort, smiled smugly.
Seeing that, Jermiel said,
“Now’s not the time for us to fight, Leon.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You know Saila asked me to come to her room, right?”
Of course she hadn’t—she’d just asked him to spare some time that evening.
“And?”
“We talked. And… sigh…”
Jermiel let out a long breath.
“She asked me about someone named Troy.”
“Troy?”
Leon’s expression darkened.
“That bastard—he’s a guy, right?”
Jermiel felt something strange.
I can’t remember him at all.
Someone who had made it to the final four of the swordsmanship class should have at least some reputation.
Yet he couldn’t recall anything.
He remembered that Troy had lost badly to Hamune—
but not how or why.
It was as if parts of his memory had been cut away.
This feels like…
Exactly like what his mother had always described—
a “miracle,” or perhaps “divine interference.”
The more he tried to recall Troy, the more alien it felt—
as if his mind rejected the thought itself.
I need to tell Saila properly… She likes capable people.
After mulling it over for a long while, he came to a decision.
There’s no helping it.
He took out paper and quill and began to write a letter.
[To my dearest Mother,
I write to you because I have encountered a most curious phenomenon.
It began with a question from Saila… and developed thusly…
If you know anything about this, please write me back.]
When it came to strange occurrences like this, there was no one more knowledgeable than his mother.
If anyone knows, it’ll be her.
He sent the letter that night.
Saila, meanwhile, felt an eerie sense of déjà vu.
Troy is missing again.
But no one else seemed to notice—or care.
Even the professors who took attendance acted as though he’d never existed.
It’s like I’m the only one who remembers him.
The unease gnawed at her.
And I still have to participate in that “7-Day Trial.”
She didn’t have the courage to refuse like a heroine in a story might—
so she decided to join the 7-Day Trial after all.
If I’m going, I’d better be prepared.
I’ll stick close to Jermiel. That’s the safest option.
It seemed she’d been right to build a friendship with him.
“Jermiel, let’s be in the same group.”
“…With me?”
This “7-Day Trial” required groups of three.
In truth, Jermiel had already formed a team of three.
“You don’t want to? Oh, did you already pick a group?”
“No.”
He lied effortlessly—so naturally that no one could tell.
Jermiel! You already teamed up with us!
What are you talking about?
The two students from the general studies class tried to protest—
but found themselves unable to move or speak.
Their bodies had suddenly gone rigid, like stone.
“I was waiting to form a group with you, Saila.”
He even anticipated the awkwardness Saila might feel and smoothed it over perfectly.
“Dorfina will be with us too, right?”
“If you’re okay with it.”
“Of course! If she’s your friend, she’s mine too.”
Jermiel smiled radiantly once more.
Then his eyes narrowed as he scanned the surroundings.
Troy… He’s not here.
Jermiel gritted his teeth inwardly.
Is he hiding on purpose? Trying to make Saila notice him?
What a cheap trick.
There was now one more person who remembered Troy—
and soon, others began to remember him too.
Finally, it got better