* * *
It was bread crumbs, stuck right on the corner of Ruite’s mouth.
Just how focused on eating was he that he didn’t even realize he was making a mess?
Chester found himself staring intently at Ruite’s lips, unable to look away from the distracting crumbs.
Ruite, of course, had no idea what was going on.
He gulped down his milk, swallowing a wave of inexplicable discomfort along with it.
‘What’s his problem now? Why is he glaring at me like he wants me dead?’
“Hey.”
“Yeah?”
“You’ve got crumbs on your face.”
“Oh, really? Where?”
Chester tapped the area around his own mouth to show him.
Ruite tried to wipe it away, but unfortunately, he missed every single time.
It was frustrating to watch him fail to find the spot even after being told, yet there was something undeniably cute about the way his hands moved so busily.
“Not there.”
Unable to watch any longer, Chester reached out. He intended to remove it himself.
Noticing the movement, Ruite reflexively leaned his upper body forward.
As Ruite compliantly followed his touch and the soft, supple texture of skin met his fingertips, Chester’s heart gave a sudden, sharp throb.
“Got it?”
Chester stared down at the crumb now resting on his finger.
To be precise, he was savoring the lingering sensation of that soft touch.
Soon, a wave of discomfort washed over him, and he brushed the crumb off toward the floor with a rough motion.
Ruite scratched his head and picked up the next piece of bread.
‘He must really hate touching me.’
“Come to think of it, is the grade camp next week?”
At the table next to them, students who appeared to be in the same year were chatting away.
“That’s right. Are you going? I skipped last year, but I’m going this time.”
“I’ve gone every year, so I’m going again. It’s way better to get some fresh air than to stay behind for extra classes.”
The ‘camp’ those students were referring to was the ‘Whitmore Camp,’ one of the Academy’s official events.
It usually took place after midterm grades were posted; each department chose a destination outside the capital and took participating students for an overnight trip.
While it was technically an educational program with destinations tailored to each department’s specialty, most students viewed it as nothing more than a school trip.
Participation wasn’t mandatory.
Students who wanted to go signed up, while those who preferred to stay or had other circumstances remained at the Academy to attend supplementary lectures during that time.
Hearing the students talk, it finally dawned on Ruite that the camp was just around the corner.
“Hey, what are you spacing out for? Aren’t you going to eat?”
“I’m eating. But, Chester…”
“What.”
“…No, it’s nothing.”
Perhaps it was because of the topic he’d overheard.
For a moment, Ruite had almost asked Chester if he was attending.
Then he remembered—Chester was one of those students who never went to camp, choosing instead to stay behind for extra lectures every single year.
Chester looked at Ruite as if he were being flighty for cutting himself off, but his eyes remained fixed on Ruite’s mouth.
Secretly, he was hoping Ruite would get more crumbs on his face.
“Now, you all know the camp schedule is next week, right?”
As if he’d been waiting for Ruite to hear about it, Harold made the official announcement the very next day.
“Professor, where are we going this time?” Magnus asked, hand raised high.
Ruite recalled that last year they had visited a monster research institute under the Knights’ jurisdiction, and in their first year, they had followed the footsteps of a legendary mage.
They were places perfectly suited for the Magic Department.
“It’s been decided that we’re headed North this time.”
Since they had gone to the capital for the institute and South for the historical tour, the North was definitely a fresh change.
“Oh! Where in the North?”
“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you now, would it?”
Harold grinned. Ruite never understood why a stiff educational institution loved surprises so much.
It seemed the professor intended to keep the destination a secret until the day of departure, just like the previous years.
“The system is the same as always. It’s an overnight trip, and we’ll be traveling with participating students from all three Magic Department classes. Attendance is optional, and those who don’t go will attend lectures as usual. There’s no penalty for not attending, so don’t feel pressured.”
With that, Harold handed out forms.
The simple document only required a checkmark for attendance or absence.
“Try to submit these by today. Don’t be late.”
“Yes, sir!”
The classroom immediately burst into chatter.
Students were busy asking one another if they were going.
While some checked the ‘Attend’ box without hesitation, many others were still debating.
Ruite stared at the paper and picked up his pen.
Without much thought, he marked ‘Absent.’
He hadn’t gone in his first or second year, either.
He wasn’t particularly fond of outdoor activities.
While staying behind for lectures sounded a bit dull, he preferred it over the alternative.
Beside him, Chester glanced at Ruite’s paper with a look of satisfaction and marked ‘Absent’ as well.
Chester was the type who found private training or studying far more efficient than group activities.
Chester picked up his form and left the classroom to submit it.
“Lui, you’re not going?”
“Oh? Yeah.”
Colin looked at the ‘Absent’ mark with a disappointed expression.
“What, Ruite? You’re skipping the camp?” Magnus chimed in, having overheard Colin. “We’re seniors next year. There won’t be camps then. This is our last chance to enjoy it. Are you really not going?”
“Magnus is right. Opportunities to make memories with all our classmates are limited, Rui,” Colin added.
“But I’ve never participated in a camp before,” Ruite muttered, scratching his cheek.
“Really? You skipped them in your first and second years, too?”
Ruite nodded nonchalantly at Magnus’s surprised look.
“Why?”
“Why? Well, that’s because…”
Ruite started to say, “Because it’s a hassle,” but stopped.
He realized that the original Ruite hadn’t skipped the camps for such a trivial reason.
He had stayed behind at the Academy because he knew Chester wasn’t going.
Recalling the reason made things awkward.
‘Did Chester notice? That I stayed behind because of him?’
If he did the same thing again, Chester would surely hate it.
He also couldn’t just ignore his friends who were so passionately trying to persuade him.
Reaching that conclusion, Ruite picked up his pen and changed his answer. He was going.
“Oh! Good choice. Give them here. I’ll go to the faculty office and turn them in for you.”
“Thanks, Magnus.”
Colin smiled and handed over the forms, including Ruite’s.
As Magnus excitedly left the room, Chester happened to walk back in.
He shot a glance at Ruite, who was having a trivial conversation with Colin, and sat down.
Only after the practical lab ended were they finally freed from the hellish lecture schedule.
On the way back to the dorms, Ruite crossed paths with Dylan.
“What’s for dinner today?”
“I hope it’s something good. Oh, Ruite. Where is the Magic Department going for camp?”
“It’s a secret.”
“Us too. Why do the professors love surprises so much? Do they think we actually like them?”
Dylan laughed heartily, agreeing completely.
He shared his own modest wish: that they would do a tour of blacksmith shops in another region.
“Ruite, you’re skipping the camp this time too, right?”
“Ah, I was going to, but I decided to go this time.”
“Oh? That’s a surprise. Coming from the guy who loves his bed more than anything.”
“Well, there were a few reasons.”
Making memories with classmates was one thing, but there was also the issue with Chester.
“Oh, it’s Chester. He’s coming this way.”
“Huh?”
Dylan pointed ahead. Just as he said, Chester—who had been walking ahead—suddenly turned around and approached them.
He looked quite terrifying.
“Are you… going to the camp?”
“Uh, yeah. I decided to go.”
Perhaps because Chester’s aura was so overwhelming, Ruite looked away and scratched his head.
Watching the two, Dylan privately thought that Chester definitely still hated Ruite.
“Don’t worry. I won’t be staying at the Academy this time.”
“…”
The furrow in Chester’s brow showed no signs of smoothing out.
He seemed to chew over Ruite’s answer several times before abruptly walking past them, heading back toward the main building.
“Where is Chester going? Lectures should be over.”
Dylan tilted his head.
While all the other students were pouring out of the main building toward the dorms, Chester’s retreating figure, walking in the opposite direction, was quite conspicuous.
“Who knows? Maybe he left something behind.”
* * *
