Mikhail hadn’t allowed a single defeat since then, pushing through the second preliminary round without faltering. But the monstrous freshman who had broken a record unseen in the entire centuries-long history of Basamiel Academy wore an utterly indifferent expression, as if it meant nothing. The only place where Mikhail ever spoke of it with pride was within the confines of this dorm room. Born with everything from the start, Mikhail had never felt the need to prove himself to anyone—except, strangely, to his roommate. He wanted to show Adrian what he could do.
“Next week’s already the finals. See? I told you the prelims were nothing for me.”
“…”
“They’re handing out tickets for the finals sometime this week.”
“…Yeah? That’s good.”
Honestly, there was no satisfaction in bragging when Adrian responded that dryly. That’s it? ‘Yeah? That’s good?’ Mikhail narrowed his eyes in irritation.
Lately, Adrian had been acting strange. Mikhail stole a glance at him—he was watering the plant by the window with a vacant expression. It wasn’t exam season, and there weren’t any festival preparations to worry about either. Mikhail couldn’t figure out what had Adrian so distracted. He’d heard Adrian had been helping out a graduating senior from Ordinas lately. Was that wearing him out? Mikhail tilted his head slightly, lips pursed.
Then it happened. Drip, drip—water overflowed from the pot and soaked the windowsill, thanks to the watering can being left in place too long. Mikhail pointed at it with his chin and spoke.
“…Adrian. The water’s spilling.”
“Huh? Oh.”
Oh, right. Adrian quickly pulled his hand back from the watering can. Watching him, Mikhail thought that vacant expression didn’t suit him at all.
“What’s with you these days?”
“Me?”
“You’ve been totally spaced out.”
“Have I…?”
Adrian let out a small sigh as he dabbed at the overflowed water with some tissues.
Well, wasn’t it natural to be a little out of it? Adrian still remembered the bitter, astringent taste of that nameless weed he’d chewed. That plant had been the reason he’d resolved to enroll at Basamiel in the first place. And to think, even that had been preordained by fate. The moment he realized that, his interest in everything else had dropped off a cliff.
At the sound of Adrian’s sigh, Mikhail tilted his head. He’d been spending all his time lately between lecture halls and the arena for the martial arts tournament. Judging by Adrian’s face, something had definitely happened while he was busy. Hmph, Mikhail gave a small, awkward cough. Trying to ask how someone was doing wasn’t like him, and it made him feel a bit self-conscious.
When Adrian lifted his head, Mikhail seized the moment.
“…How’s the research assistant work?”
At that question, Adrian tilted his head slightly.
“The research? Well…”
He’d only just begun to grasp the outline of the force that truly moved this continent. Adrian actually enjoyed helping with Kyle’s research. Sure, having to meet Kyle D’Baicia so often because of it was annoying—but Kyle’s deeply human perspective was fascinating in its own way.
“It’s better than I thought. Kyle sunbae isn’t so bad, and we see eye to eye on a lot of the research stuff.”
Kyle’s research wasn’t something an ordinary academy student should be tackling. No one could yet say what the final result would be, but one thing was clear: there was no money to be made from it. Because of that, most people dismissed Kyle’s research as insignificant. The only person who had recognized its worth was Olivia Riney, the professor in charge of the Spirit Studies department.
Huh. Mikhail raised a brow at Adrian’s response.
Then came that word—“we.” Mikhail repeated the phrase that had rubbed him the wrong way, his mouth forming the syllables. The whole sentence he’d just heard irritated him.
“You agree? You and Kyle D’Baicia? What exactly do you agree on?”
Adrian, lost in thought about the research, lifted his head at Mikhail’s oddly off-target question.
“…Pretty sure I said ‘on the research’ right before that.”
But Mikhail still didn’t look satisfied, his face clearly showing his annoyance.
“So basically, what you’re saying is… working with Kyle is fun, huh?”
“Not always, but mostly, yeah.”
“…”
Adrian glanced at Mikhail, who had gone quiet again, then returned to finishing his daily watering routine. He left the watering can by the window and began gathering his gardening tools, organizing them neatly into the drawer next to his desk.
“Huh?” A voice rang out just as the sound of water dripping echoed by the window. Adrian immediately turned his gaze in that direction. Mikhail was standing with his longsword in hand, staring toward the window.
The watering can, which had been left behind, had toppled after catching on his sword—spilling water everywhere.
“…Didn’t realize it was still by the window.”
He didn’t look particularly sorry. Mikhail casually walked into the bathroom and returned with an armful of the highest-grade towels stocked in the dormitory’s cabinets. Surely he wasn’t planning to clean the window frame with those, right? Even if he was royalty, he ought to know the difference between a towel for your face and one for cleaning.
Mikhail reached out with three of the towels in hand, ready to wipe the windowsill. Only then did Adrian realize—Mikhail was actually intending to use the premium towels to mop up the spill.
Adrian shook his head and blocked Mikhail’s hand.
“It’s fine. I’ll clean it up. I’m the one who left it there.”
“…I was gonna do it, though.”
His voice was oddly deflated. Spilling a little water on the windowsill wasn’t even a big deal, really. Adrian lightly patted Mikhail’s slumped shoulder.
***
Adrian was the only one uninterested in the tournament finals. All of Basamiel Academy was buzzing with talk about contestant #209—a likely champion of the martial arts competition.
Hounds House in particular was in an uproar. They were utterly smitten by the prince who silenced that damned Amber in a single stroke with nothing but a sword in hand.
Every time Mikhail passed through the campus, the Hounds would stamp their feet and cheer in wild excitement.
“So childish.”
Even with the passionate support pouring in, Mikhail remained unimpressed. All this over a preliminary win? It was excessive. He veered off the academy’s elegant marble corridor and headed straight for a bench in the central garden.
There, as always, Adrian was sitting with a book in hand. The warm sunlight reflected off his bright blond hair, making it shimmer. When the leaves of the large tree behind the bench swayed in the breeze, Adrian’s hair fluttered softly with them.
From time to time, he furrowed his brow in slight displeasure at something he was reading, only to nod a moment later as though convinced by the author’s argument.
Mikhail, unintentionally, slowed his steps. He’d meant to call out his name, but his lips pressed shut. It was a tranquil scene—one he didn’t want to disturb.
But Adrian felt differently. Without looking up from his book, he parted his perfectly shaped lips.
“So the guy who insisted on buying lunch first shows up this late?”
Without even checking whether Mikhail had reached the bench or not, Adrian turned the page with a flutter.
“…”
“Is this that famous royal palace etiquette you mentioned?”
When Mikhail didn’t respond to the scolding, Adrian finally looked up and gave him a questioning stare. Mikhail was just staring blankly at him. Only when their eyes met did he seem to snap out of it.
“There was a sudden summons related to the tournament, so I had to swing by…”
Mikhail’s words trailed off. He sat down on the bench and looked directly at Adrian, who was glancing up at him. He thought Adrian’s warm honey-colored eyes suited his bright blonde hair perfectly.
“…Sorry.”
Mikhail muttered a quick apology and turned his head sharply away. His face was hidden, but the tips of his ears, peeking through his silver hair, were tinged red.
Embarrassed over just being late and apologizing for it? What a pain to get even a single apology out of him. Adrian spotted the red ear tips and smirked faintly.
“Alright, let’s go. Any later and we’ll miss the lunch window.”
Adrian stood up from the bench where he’d been sitting, folding the book he’d been reading.
“Right,” Mikhail nodded, waiting as Adrian gathered his things.
That’s when it happened.
“Adrian! Oh hey, Mikhail’s here too. Long time no see. I heard you’ve been dominating the martial arts tournament?”
Kyle waved his arm as he approached.
Then, with a light pat on Adrian’s shoulder, he began rambling on about the research they’d discussed yesterday. Mikhail watched them with irritation, unable to follow a single word of their conversation.
The two of them looked exactly as Adrian had said: enjoying themselves.
