The long, drawn-out speech finally came to an end.
Following the professors’ instructions, the students in the Great Hall moved out in an orderly fashion.
Ruite simply matched his pace with the flowing procession, letting out deep, heavy sighs.
The day had technically just begun, but having been late this morning, he felt as though he had already depleted a full day’s worth of energy.
“Hey, do you think there’ll be a season event this time too?”
“What? The confession event?”
The students walking behind Ruite couldn’t help but start gossiping.
“But that legend only applies to the spring opening ceremony, not the fall.”
“True, but hasn’t it happened occasionally? Kids trying to confess according to the legend even at the fall opening.”
“I think I remember something like that.”
However, the students chatting away eventually concluded that since it wasn’t the spring opening, no one would be following the legend’s rules.
Usually, students gathered behind the Great Hall out of curiosity, hoping a season event might occur.
If one actually happened, great; if no brave soul stepped up, they’d disperse, disappointed.
But just as those students said, almost no one attempted the legendary season event during the fall opening.
Thus, the students headed toward the main building without even glancing back.
Ruite intended to do the same.
Or rather, he meant to.
“Excuse me, just a moment.”
Until a stranger called out to him.
“Yes?”
The person who spoke to Ruite was a tall student with a quite sturdy build.
Even in an academy that discouraged talk about traits, anyone seeing this student would immediately think, ‘He’s an Alpha.’
Ruite realized at once that this student was a senior.
Grades were usually distinguished by the color of the name tag, and he was wearing a fourth-year tag.
“I have something to say to you. Could you spare some time?”
“To me? Could you… have the wrong person?”
Ruite had no idea who this fourth-year was.
He searched his memory, wondering if his recollection was failing him, but found nothing.
“You’re Ruite Everhart, right? Third-year, Class 3, Magic Department.”
“Ah, yes.”
“I’m not a suspicious person. I really just have something I want to say to you.”
Ruite didn’t think he was suspicious.
There was no need to suspect a student wearing a Whitmore uniform and a name tag.
Knowing his name and class was a bit surprising, but such things were common within the academy—knowing someone’s name or class without being close enough to be friends.
“Alright.”
Reaching that conclusion, Ruite simply nodded.
Though they were speaking for the first time today, the senior looked somewhat desperate.
There was no harm in just listening.
However, Ruite sensed a subtle shift in the air when he realized the senior had led him to the area behind the Great Hall.
It was a perfectly suitable place for a conversation—if what he had to say was something embarrassing for others to hear, a quiet spot was best.
But having heard the students earlier wondering if a season event would happen in the fall, he couldn’t shake a strange feeling.
“I’m in Class 1, fourth-year Magic Department. My name is Miles.”
“Yes…”
“You know Davis in your class? He and I are close.”
Hearing that, Ruite nodded.
During the last camp, Davis had mentioned hearing the legend about the Ghost Forest from a close senior in the fourth year.
Come to think of it, Ruite felt like he had glimpsed this face once or twice when Miles came to the classroom to see Davis.
“Since I visit Davis often, I naturally became familiar with the students in your class. You were one of them. Do you… remember? Once, I was talking to Davis and didn’t realize I dropped my pen, and you picked it up for me.”
“D-did I?”
Ruite forced a smile.
Truthfully, he had no memory of it.
He had been attending the academy for years; surely the number of times he had picked up something someone dropped was too many to count.
“Well, to cut a long story short, I realized at some point that I was visiting Davis even when I didn’t have any business with him.”
“I see… is that so…”
“You might not like hearing this, but your appearance… no, I won’t say it.”
Smiling was no longer possible.
No matter how he looked at it, wasn’t this heading in that direction?
Ruite gave a vague response while scanning his surroundings.
Fortunately, the other students had already left the Great Hall, and not a soul was in sight.
“I don’t have much time left before graduation. So I really wanted to confess before I leave.”
Ruite reached the point where he had to squeeze his eyes shut.
To receive a confession from someone whose name and face he hadn’t even known—what could be more uncomfortable?
“But, Senior, I don’t know you at all, and you don’t really know me either, do you?”
Ruite found himself using a tone one might use to reason with a child.
As long as they were still attending the same academy, he had to guide the conversation toward a smooth rejection.
“I know. I know it’s a burden, but c-couldn’t we just try seeing each other and think about it?”
Miles began to talk at length.
He mentioned how he maintained top-tier grades in the Magic Department, how he planned to take the magic-user exam and join the Ferwin Knights after graduation, and even mentioned that his older brother was already a member of those knights.
It was an appeal to present himself as positively as possible.
Ruite pressed his aching eyes.
He hadn’t slept well last night, and being late today had left him with no energy.
Ah, come to think of it, Harold might be looking for him right now, wondering where the latecomer went.
What if the professor thought he had run away and took offense?
Ruite’s thoughts drifted before he snapped back to reality.
Right, this wasn’t the time for that.
He needed to reject him firmly and get inside.
He had to go get scolded by Harold, and Chester…
“…”
Chester again.
Ruite shook his head to clear his thoughts.
But little did Ruite know, that gesture looked to the other person as if he were agonizing over the confession.
Thinking he just needed to persuade him a bit more, Miles reached out toward Ruite’s shoulder.
“He’s not in a position to date anyone.”
Miles’s hand was caught before it could reach Ruite’s shoulder.
At the sudden interruption, both Miles and Ruite turned their heads.
Chester had appeared out of nowhere and was holding Miles’s hand.
Even Miles knew the famous figure of Whitmore, so he couldn’t help but be taken aback.
“Chester, why are you here?”
“Reject him.”
“Huh?”
“Hurry up.”
Chester, his face grim and blunt, spoke while looking at Ruite, even as he still held Miles’s hand.
Only then did Ruite realize he needed to settle the situation and quickly opened his mouth.
“Um, Senior. I’m truly grateful that you think well of me, but I don’t think I can give you the answer you want. I’m sorry.”
“Ah.”
Only after Ruite uttered a clear rejection and Miles’s face clouded with disappointment did Chester release his grip.
“Right, I think I pushed too hard, so I’m sorry. Don’t feel too burdened. Thanks for listening to me.”
Miles, perhaps feeling the pressure from Chester standing right there, quickly wrapped things up and vanished.
“But did that senior… start liking me just because I picked up a pen? It’s not like his ideal type is ‘someone who picks things up,’ right?”
If that were truly his ideal type, wouldn’t he have fallen for dozens of people over four years at the academy?
Ruite muttered to himself while looking at the spot where Miles had disappeared.
As expected, Ruite didn’t realize that Miles had fallen in love at first sight with Ruite’s face when he smiled politely while returning the pen.
“Ah, but Chester, thanks. Because of you, I snapped out of it…”
He was about to say that the firm rejection had flowed out easily thanks to him, but the sentence remained unfinished.
“What’s… wrong?”
Chester was staring at Ruite very intently. It wasn’t just his usual gaze; he looked angry for some reason.
“Why didn’t you reject him sooner? Why give him time to misunderstand?”
“Misunderstand? Did I do that? I just… no, but why are you criticizing me? You seem to have seen the whole situation, so you must have known I was troubled and radiating an aura of rejection.”
Ruite was already on edge from lack of sleep and the sprint he’d done this morning.
Plus, a stranger had just pushed a burdensome confession on him.
Chester let out a short sigh.
Leaning down slightly, he suddenly met Ruite’s eyes while placing a hand on his right shoulder.
A large hand gripped the shoulder.
Ruite, of course, had no idea that was the exact spot Miles had tried to touch.
Ruite flinched as Chester suddenly caught his eye.
He felt as if those obsidian eyes were boring holes into his face.
Feeling an unidentifiable pressure in that gaze, Ruite clamped his mouth shut.
They maintained eye contact for a long moment.
Just as a breeze carrying the scent of autumn blew past, Chester slowly opened his mouth.
