The witch’s words ran so far past common sense that Aoko’s train of thought short-circuited, and she lapsed into silence.
And compared to Ryōgi Minato, who still hadn’t grasped the “severity” of the situation, the danmaku from that other world came pouring out one after another.
[A natural-born Magic Crest?
Don’t gaslight me, I barely scraped through school—how is something like that even possible to be born with?]
[Probably not a Crest, more likely a Magical Energy Reactor?
Then again, it’s not like everyone’s the Ahoge King lugging one of those around.
Besides, Minato doesn’t exactly look like a golem that needs a reactor for power, so maybe that’s why Alice thinks it’s a Crest?]
[Crest, reactor, whatever—why not go bolder with the guess?
Personally I’m calling it a Third Perpetual Motion Machine (smug)]
[He’s already a Sword Saint reincarnate, so honestly I’ll accept any absurd thing at this point, as long as it doesn’t hold up the sugar.]
[But Minato’s five thick, beefy circuits—why do they remind me of a certain backstabbed woman?
Same exceptional talent, same “quality over quantity” circuits.]
[Don’t tell me you mean the one so flat you can’t tell her front from her back?!]
[Ahh, it all makes sense now—so you’re a gender-bent Manaka?!
(smug)]
[Don’t talk nonsense.
Manaka was born with her circuits already linked straight to the Root, whereas Minato’s the type who’ll be strolling in and out of the Root someday (smug)]
[Bro’s trying to take it dirty even here—crash and burn, crash and burn!
🚗💥]
[I don’t understand a word of this.
I’m just a pure, innocent child, okay 😇]
Ryōgi Minato watched the comments scroll past, none the wiser as to what their “Magical Energy Reactor” and “Root” were supposed to mean.
But going by the way they were dissecting it, the heart in his chest—presently lit up like a glowing lantern—didn’t seem to be anything like a Magic Crest after all.
He pictured, quietly, the image of sliding a blade home into its sheath.
At once his body returned to normal, no longer glowing with his arms and legs flung wide like the kanji 大.
By now Aoko had come back to herself too, and together with Alice she turned to look at the boy.
“Alice, are you saying that if other magi found out about this, Minato might get targeted?”
After all, over the course of learning magecraft, the young witch had spoken more than once of the darker side of magi.
It was also the reason Aoko had still not formally stepped into “this side of the world”—she felt she had yet to find a way to let go of her old ways of thinking and her old values.
But that didn’t mean she was ignorant of the kinds of things those magi were capable of.
“He will be targeted.
Which is why this must stay secret, Aoko.”
Alice impressed the warning on her housemate once again.
At the very start she had only meant to be the boy’s teacher in name, yet now, because of this decision of hers, she had caused him to open something he never should have—and the thought left her feeling responsible.
“Minato, you must remember this too.
Never tell anyone else about it.”
“Not even family?”
“Better not.”
In the past, Alice had heard her share of rumors about magi who were family to one another fighting over some treasured thing, and that was why she counseled him so.
Because, at root, magi were creatures driven solely by gain; to reach the Root, there was nothing they wouldn’t do.
Even if the boy’s family didn’t seem to be magi, it was best to be safe and keep the circle of knowing as small as possible—if only to spare his family from being dragged into anything.
Hearing this answer, Ryōgi Minato grasped the “weight” of her words.
He nodded and murmured his assent, resolving to guard this matter as a secret every bit as important as the danmaku.
But perhaps feeling her own words had come off as cold, Alice fell quiet a moment, then added:
“If one day you find someone you can trust completely, then it won’t matter if that person comes to know.
“But only on the condition that you have the strength to protect yourself.”
Having more or less come to regard the boy seriously as her apprentice, the young witch let her tone soften a little, no longer quite so distant.
And in that instant, the boy’s mind drifted, unbidden, to that girl—sometimes cold, sometimes ardent.
Yet this secret, one that might well invite danger, made him hesitate.
He decided to turn it over slowly, another time.
She’d assumed this would be no more than a routine lesson on opening his Magic Circuits, and never imagined it would turn out like this.
Alice intended to return to her room tonight and look more carefully into the matter, to see whether some precedent had slipped past her.
But as a conclusion—setting external factors aside—possessing a heart that resembled either a Magic Crest or a Magical Energy Reactor was no bad thing for the boy at all.
One might even call it a blessing of the path of magecraft.
It was only those circuits—few in number, yet seemingly of the very highest quality—that drew the young witch back into thought.
Tomorrow night, then, I’ll see which way this child’s attribute actually leans…
She was in no hurry to map out a teaching plan.
Alice had sensed in the boy a thing called talent, and meant to guide him step by step.
“All right, that’s enough for tonight.
I’ll have some basic materials ready by morning.
During the day, take a good look through them and get a rough understanding first.
“Also—aside from your room and Aoko’s, plus the living room and kitchen, don’t wander into anywhere else.”
Having laid out the next day’s arrangements, Alice left the sunroom with a touch of urgency, as though eager to get to the bottom of the boy’s peculiar condition as soon as she could.
Hearing this, Aoko grumbled in protest.
“Why does my room count as somewhere he can just walk into?
I have privacy too, you know…”
Of course, the girl was only grumbling in jest—she didn’t truly mean anything by it.
But Ryōgi Minato plainly couldn’t catch that.
Taking it that Aoko was worried, he rose to his feet and said in earnest:
“Please don’t worry, Aoko.
I won’t go into your room without reason.”
“No, that last bit was sort of a joke…”
At a loss, for the moment, as to how to explain it to this guileless child, Aoko simply gave up and laughed.
“Don’t fuss over a thing like that.
It’s about time an elementary schooler was in bed, so off you go and rest, Minato.
I’ll handle clearing up the dishes in the kitchen.”
She nearly reached out to ruffle the boy’s hair, but thinking that might be a touch rude, Aoko stayed where she was and offered a smile instead.
“Understood.
Then I’ll leave it to you, Aoko.”
His childish voice losing none of its courtesy, Ryōgi Minato gave his thanks and returned to his room on the second floor.
Looking around the now-empty sunroom, with only herself left in it, Aoko let out a hard breath, rolled up the sleeves of her casual clothes, set her hands on her hips, and sighed.
“Kids really ought to act like kids after all.
The complicated things—better to leave those to people like us.”
It wasn’t clear which matter she was speaking of, but Aoko’s bearing turned a shade steadier than usual.
She glanced once toward the way the boy had gone, then, smiling to herself, headed off in the direction of the kitchen.