“How are things going, Ain?”
A man’s voice echoed suddenly.
A will I had grown used to hearing over hundreds of years—my comrade’s.
This magic, which transmits thoughts directly, is a fairly standard, common technique. But in his case, the distance is absurd.
He’s not within my detectable range, which means he’s not within a hundred kilometers.
Honestly, does this thing have a range that covers the entire world?
I don’t know the exact limits, but it’s that ridiculous. Every time, I can’t help but think—how does he keep pulling off something this insanely precise?
“Don’t like the uniform.”
“I see. So, how are things going?”
This magic carries emotions along with the message.
Which makes it annoying—his feelings come through whether I want them or not.
And since he’s skilled, the precision is high. The emotions are just as clear as always:
Exasperation, irritation… and underneath that, even stronger—impatience, affection, obsession.
Overwhelmingly strong emotions.
Ignoring all that always takes a bit of effort.
“I’m doing what you said. For now, I’ve enrolled in the academy. Top class. I’m keeping an eye on him—Chrono—and minimizing contact.”
“Excellent.”
Relief. Trust. Hesitation.
He completely believes what I say, but he’s also thinking about whether to move to the next phase of the plan.
I barely even know what the plan is—but that’s fine.
I haven’t really done anything yet anyway.
“…Let’s proceed as planned.”
“Yeah, yeah. As planned. So what exactly am I supposed to do?”
“Corner Chrono Dizaus. You had already anticipated this development, hadn’t you?”
Since this is infiltration, it’s not about killing or kidnapping. No need for that—you could achieve it head-on if you wanted.
The target is human. And he clearly possesses some kind of hidden power.
So yeah… this was the obvious route.
I already prepared the groundwork. Even picked the territory.
Did a bit of prep work.
Pretty impressive, right?
“I’ve always had good instincts.”
“That’s reassuring. I was worried you might have forgotten the target’s face.”
Ah, haha… well, I did forget until the last minute.
But I remembered, so it’s fine, right?
The moment I saw him use his power for the first time, something just clicked.
Like—oh, it’s this guy.
My sensing ability is probably the best in the world.
No matter how well it’s hidden, it doesn’t work on me.
So I knew he’d be used for something.
Yeah. Let’s go with that—I knew.
“Yeah… something about him is just… creepy.”
“Creepy…?”
“Super creepy. What is that?”
“It’s something very, very wonderful.”
Relief? Excitement?
Through the communication magic, I felt a surge of emotion stronger than ever before.
What is this? What is he aiming for?
Ah… I see.
Is the fact that I find it creepy important?
If so… that’s a huge deal, isn’t it?
“No way…”
“For now, focus only on how to corner him. You’ll get your answer later.”
If that’s the case, I’ll stop thinking about it.
If he says so, then that’s the correct move.
Ah… still that relief and excitement—and now, guilt too.
He really should’ve gotten used to that by now.
If he’d just treat me properly as a tool, nothing else would be necessary.
How stupid. Poor guy.
“If you knew the answer now, you wouldn’t be able to carry out the mission.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Whatever.
What matters—what should be discussed—is tomorrow.
I’m not entertaining that guilt.
“Anyway, there’s something I want you to prepare.”
“…What is it?”
“One magical beast. You’ve got a stockpile of failed experiments from that ghost woman, right?”
Confusion. Concern.
Yeah, I get it.
That ghost woman is genuinely awful.
Even as failures, they’re way too violent to use on Chrono.
There’s a real chance it might go too far and kill him—
But still.
“Get one. I need it.”
“…Be extremely careful handling it.”
“I know. I won’t mess up.”
Who do you think I am?
I’m your only comrade in this entire world.
※※※※※※
“So, what kind of magic do you use, Ain?”
Chrono is really trying to talk to me.
Weird how attached he seems.
Did I really leave that much of an impression?
I thought I made it clear I wasn’t interested in getting close. This story is hosted at g.com.
Also—yesterday he was calling me “you” formally, right?
Isn’t he closing the distance way too fast?
“Everyone has a type of magic they’re good at, right? I was just curious.”
“…………”
Magic has categories.
Fire, water, wind, earth, ice, lightning, plants, light, darkness—those kinds of attributes.
Obviously, people differ in what suits them.
Some can only use fire, some use wind and earth, some are weak with water but excel at lightning. Training helps, but in the end—it’s talent.
So asking about someone’s specialty isn’t strange.
But still…
“Why do I have to tell you that…?”
“Huh? You don’t want to?”
“No, it’s not that I don’t…”
I don’t actually mind telling him.
But, you know…
It’s more like—I’m questioning why we’re talking this casually in the first place.
Shouldn’t we address that first?
“I’m wondering whether we’re even close enough for you to casually talk to me like this.”
“Huh? We already talked once, didn’t we?”
“That’s way too fast. One conversation and we’re friends?”
“…We’re not?”
Is he the ultimate extrovert or something?
I’m honestly stunned by how easily he assumes he can get along with people.
It took me over four hundred years to make two friends.
And he’s standing there like, “We’re not…?”
What kind of culture shock is that?
“No, we’re not. So there’s no reason for me to talk to you casually.”
“…I see.”
…At least look a little hurt.
That lack of reaction is oddly unsatisfying.
“By the way, where’s that unlucky girl you’re always with?”
“You mean Iris? Isn’t that a bit harsh?”
“I’m bad with names.”
Especially weak ones.
They just don’t leave an impression—my brain refuses to remember them.
“Iris is with Rush. If they’re always together, they won’t get close to the rest of the class, right?”
“Oh, I see…”
So she’s going around making connections.
Makes sense.
That kind of person would be desperate to build networks.
Her upbringing—her natural aristocratic behavior—is obvious.
Doesn’t he notice?
It’s pretty easy to read.
“Sorry for talking so casually. You’re right—we’re not at a point where we share the same perspective yet.”
“Ah, yeah. That’s right.”
“So I won’t talk casually anymore. From now on, I’ll speak seriously—so we can understand each other better. What’s your specialty magic attribute?”
He’s… serious. Or maybe just dense.
Normally you’d just stop talking altogether.
Where does that stubborn persistence come from?
He doesn’t seem like he’s joking either.
…Do I really have to answer?
But honestly, my only reason not to is “it’s a hassle.”
Would it be childish to mess with someone this serious?
Well, whatever. I guess it’s fine.
“…I don’t have any specialty attribute.”
“You’re actually answering.”
“It’d be more annoying if you kept pressing me.”
He looks dissatisfied, like he’d never do that.
No—you definitely would.
You seem like the type to suddenly bring it up again later.
My instincts are usually right.
So it’s faster to just say what I can now.
“I basically don’t use magic—except for ‘body enhancement.’”
“This is a magic academy, you know…? Wait, then how did you pass the entrance exam? You had to use magic to hit the target—”
“I just gathered raw mana and threw it.”
Chrono looks suspicious.
Well, yeah. It’s absurd.
Magic exists to use mana more efficiently and effectively.
What I’m saying is basically that magic itself is unnecessary.
But I don’t mind the doubt.
It couldn’t be helped.
Among my limited long-range options, that was the only way to pass without raising suspicion.
I could’ve lied, but lies get exposed eventually.
My abilities are just too specialized.
No matter what, I can’t do things the normal way.
“…That’s like saying it’s faster to punch than use a sword in a fight.”
Using a sword clearly gives you the advantage.
Even if it slows you slightly, the reach and lethality are incomparable.
Sure, bare hands might be a bit faster—but so what?
Still, the real question is—how did I pass the exam like that?
“…Wouldn’t a knight academy suit you better?”
“I passed with something below magic, but that doesn’t mean I can’t use magic. I’m good at body enhancement.”
Shut up.
I didn’t come here to learn magic anyway.
For the record—I can barely use magic.
Only body enhancement.
Magic talent comes down to three things:
Mana capacity.
Control skill.
Attribute affinity.
I have the first two—but the third is hopeless.
Magic works by adding “attributes” (colors) to colorless mana.
But I can only handle it in its colorless state.
Like trying to paint with only white paint.
The more colors you have, the more you can create.
But unlike paint, some “colors” are considered dangerous just for existing.
“…Alright, your turn. What’s your specialty?”
“…I can basically do anything, but fire is my best—”
“You used fire in the exam. But that’s not it, is it?”
Still a kid.
Not good at hiding things.
Though someone like that unlucky girl would’ve just smiled and neither confirmed nor denied it.
But expecting that from him would be unfair.
He clearly only cares about getting stronger.
“…I don’t know what it is, but I won’t ask.”
That “creepiness” I feel from him… might come from his real specialty.
I don’t care enough to dig deeper.
And I was told not to think about it.
“You’re really interested in me, huh?”
“…Well, yeah. You’re strong.”
“Focusing only on that is very… childlike of you.”
He looks displeased.
Seems he took that as an insult.
“What do you mean?”
“Didn’t you want to get along with everyone?”
He’s careless.
Too kind, even.
His mentor probably only taught him strength.
Maybe deliberately raised him that way.
But at his core, he’s too kind.
That’s why he’s so distorted.
He seeks bonds, yet is drawn most to strength.
He ignores those he’s beaten, and prioritizes me over others.
That narrow focus blinds him.
“Do you think you’re forming the kind of bonds you want?”
“…?”
“Is there anyone in your class who matches what you’re looking for?”
He won’t understand.
He probably already thinks that unlucky girl is his best friend.
But pure, selfless relationships don’t exist.
Most of the class is garbage.
One is aristocratic to the core.
And one is… truly unfortunate.
Right behind him.
Still there.
“――――――――――”
Wow. Creepy.
I can’t even tell what he’s saying anymore.
And yet Chrono ignores it completely.
How is he still not noticing?
Does he think someone he crossed swords with is automatically a friend?
“Do you like your master?”
“…I’m grateful for being raised by them. But… after being beaten so much, and with how awful they are… it’s hard to say.”
“Then do you hate them?”
“….”
Given how skilled he is, he must’ve suffered a lot.
You can’t feel gratitude without friction.
Hatred is natural.
From what little I’ve heard, he’s like me.
The kind who believes violence is the answer.
No wonder they didn’t get along.
“Why let someone you hate define you? You’re looking away from what matters.”
“…I don’t really understand what you’re saying.”
“You will, eventually.”
Or rather—I’ll make sure you do.
Not that I’ll say that.
“Look around you. What you’re seeing is only a small part of the world.”
“….”
“Sorry if that sounded preachy. But it’s necessary.”
Necessary… for me.
Well then.
Tomorrow’s the recreation event.
It should be quite entertaining.
Looking forward to it.