* * *
His low, sunken voice sounded unfamiliar.
He looked pitiful enough that one might wonder if he had truly stayed up all night.
But why was he blaming his lack of sleep on me?
I knew he hated me, but was it to the point where he couldn’t even sleep?
Chester’s sharp gaze remained fixed.
Ruite simply tilted his head with an expressionless face.
“Alright, that’s all for the notices. Prepare well for your lectures. And Ruite, can I see you for a moment?”
“Yes.”
It was clearly to check on his condition after his recent collapse.
Ruite followed Harold and was caught in the counseling room again, listening to various bits of nagging.
It wasn’t much different from what he had heard from Professor Philia.
However, as the conversation felt like it was about to veer off track again, Ruite quickly excused himself under the guise of preparing for class.
“When Magnus gets older, won’t he turn out just like Professor Harold?”
They both loved talking until someone’s ears bled. It seemed highly likely.
As he walked down the hallway thinking he should tell Magnus that later, he spotted Chester in the distance.
The students scattered in the hall were all busy stealing glances at him.
The first-years, who didn’t yet know Chester’s true personality, looked ready to have hearts pop out of their eyes.
“Hey.”
Ruite looked in bewilderment at Chester, who was striding toward him.
It was rare for Chester to initiate a conversation within the academy.
“Me?”
Ruite pointed at himself while looking around, and Chester came to a halt right in front of him.
“You. Your medicine.”
“Medicine?”
“The stuff Professor Philia gave you.”
The Omega stabilizer. He was clearly referring to that—the one he was told to take three times a day since he had gone as far as collapsing.
“Are you talking about the stabilizer?”
“Why are you saying that so loudly?”
Chester’s brow furrowed instantly as Ruite uttered the word ‘stabilizer’ so casually.
Usually, that term was used primarily by Alphas and Omegas.
There wasn’t much reason for a Beta to be discussing such medication.
“Well, so what? Anyway, I already took it.”
Following Philia’s nagging, he had no desire to collapse again.
Humans were creatures that only learned through experience; he intended to take it faithfully until Philia said he didn’t need it anymore.
Chester kept his mouth shut.
Before Ruite could even ask if that was why he had stopped him, Chester turned on his heel.
“But Chester, you should really go to the infirmary and get some rest. Your dark circles have reached all the way down to here.”
A stinging glare followed.
It felt uncomfortable, as if Chester was saying that was also Ruite’s fault.
“Chester, they say you’ll get wrinkles later if you scowl like that. Try to smooth it out like this.”
Ruite moved both index fingers across his own brow, stretching it out as if telling Chester to follow suit.
At that foolishly cute face, Chester stopped dead in his tracks.
“Hm? What?”
“Whatever.”
Answering dismissively, Chester climbed the stairs two at a time and entered the classroom first.
The boisterous room quieted down immediately as the first lecture began.
The period of relatively free lecture schedules after exams lasted only a week.
Once that sweet, dreamlike time passed like a flash, the original lecture system would resume.
Even during this week of rest, Chester did not act as freely as the others.
Unlike those who grew lax now that exams were over, he did not neglect his personal training and even previewed the material for the next lessons.
That was the only way to maintain the top rank.
The statement that one cannot become great by doing what everyone else does was something his loathsome father had said, but it was a sentiment Chester agreed with to some extent.
Thus, even during this new lecture, he was able to concentrate, unlike his other classmates who were dazed and drained of energy.
While his mind wasn’t as clear as usual today due to the unpleasant events of yesterday and his subsequent lack of sleep, he had always been confident in his ability to focus.
“Hmm…”
However, a single low voice from beside him shattered Chester’s concentration completely.
Turning his head slightly, he saw Ruite seriously reading the section the professor was explaining.
He seemed to be struggling, scratching his head and furrowing his brow in deep thought, as if he didn’t understand.
‘That’s what happens when you spend the previous lectures just sleeping.’
It was a case of reaping what one sowed.
Eventually, Ruite seemed to give up on understanding altogether; he propped up his chin and let his shoulders slump.
His cheek, pressed against his palm, squished slightly, making his flesh puff out.
That pale, soft-looking cheek appeared quite tender.
Chester was involuntarily biting the inside of his cheek when Ruite cautiously reached forward.
His hand was heading toward Colin’s sturdy shoulder.
“Hey. Try reading it again while referring to this part and this part.”
Having already realized where Ruite was struggling, Chester quickly scribbled marks on Ruite’s textbook.
Ruite looked at him with a skeptical face but began to scan the content again along with the parts Chester had pointed out.
Realizing he actually understood it now, his already large eyes grew even wider as he muttered softly, “Oh, you’re right.”
He had looked so dejected as if he were about to give up just a moment ago, but now that he understood, his face brightened, and he excitedly began taking notes.
‘To have one’s emotions show so clearly on one’s face.’
Chester shook his head.
Returning to the main point, the important thing was that one couldn’t afford to relax just because the exams were recently over.
Since there wasn’t just one exam, and several more had to be taken until the fourth year, Chester had long ago discarded the habit of slackening.
Furthermore, in the Magic Department, one had to maintain theoretical grades separately from practical training.
To put it simply, practical work was a matter of physical labor, but theory required intellectual effort, making it more taxing in its own way.
As the years went by, the material naturally became more complex.
However, that was no excuse to neglect any subject.
Giving up on a subject just because it was uninteresting was something only fools did.
Yes, just like the seatmate who wasn’t even focusing on the current Mathematics class.
“…”
Ruite was scribbling something on his textbook with a very serious face.
Chester, whose gaze was stolen again by the face with lips tightly pursed in concentration, unconsciously put down the pen he was holding.
He thought Ruite was solving a problem at first, but later he saw that wasn’t it.
Ruite was drawing a picture.
Looking closely, it was a drawing of a puppy; with its round eyes and soft appearance, Chester thought Ruite was drawing something that looked exactly like himself.
At that moment, his eyes met Ruite’s as he looked up.
Chester did not look away, pretending not to be flustered.
Ruite gathered up his textbook and held it up slightly so Chester could see the drawing clearly.
“Isn’t it cute?”
Perhaps thinking he had drawn it quite well, Ruite pointed at the drawing with a faint smile.
“Just focus on the lecture.”
‘What on earth is so cute about it?’
He couldn’t understand how someone could do something so pathetic during a valuable lecture.
Whether he drew a cute puppy that resembled himself or not, wasting precious time by not focusing on the lecture was for fools.
Sure enough, during the final morning lecture—a Philosophy class famous for being tedious—Ruite began to doze off openly.
Chester put his pen down again and shook his head while observing the nodding Ruite.
Every time his head moved back and forth, his bangs shimmered.
Looking closely at his languidly closed eyes, his eyelashes were elegantly long.
Seeing his slightly parted, plump lips as he drifted into dreamland, cherries somehow came to mind.
The professor continued the lecture passionately regardless of whether the students were dozing or not, and the textbook pages flipped by.
However, Chester’s textbook remained on the very page where the lecture had started.
Ruite’s head bobbed helplessly once more.
That was the sixteenth time.
Just as Chester was wondering what Ruite would do if he got caught by the professor, Ruite’s head wavered precariously and threatened to plummet onto the desk.
It seemed he hadn’t just drifted into dreamland but had arrived there completely.
If his forehead hit the desk like that, it would make a loud noise, and he would be caught and scolded by the professor.
He would then rub his swollen forehead while apologizing.
“…”
In that split second, Chester reached out reflexively.
Just before Ruite’s forehead could greet the desk, it landed perfectly on the hand Chester had slid underneath.
Fortunately, the scenario he had imagined didn’t happen.
Instead, a strange sensation washed over his palm.
At the touch of the soft hair and the warmth felt from the smooth, even forehead, Chester involuntarily bit his lip.
* * *
