Part 4: Clubs

Club recruitment was in full swing at Constel. Recruitment itself had begun when the first-years arrived, but it was now entering its final stretch. With one week left until the deadline, upperclassmen and new students alike had clubs on their minds.

Naturally, the same was true of Class Two, the class that drew the most attention at Constel.

“Elodie, have you joined a club?”

“... Oh, huh?”

When Aster asked her, Elodie pretended she hadn’t heard him. Aster obligingly repeated himself.

“A club. I heard the deadline’s coming up.”

“No, well, none of them really interest me.”

“Hmm, I see.”

Aster didn’t ask any further. He wasn’t the suspicious type; that was part of his earnest nature. Though this time, it worked against her.

After some hesitation, Elodie asked, “What about you?”

“Horse riding. We won’t be learning mounted combat yet, but apparently Constel has Cassians. They’re an excellent breed of warhorse.”

Cars were the most common means of transportation on the Palind Continent. But in this world, where mana and fantasy intertwined, a truly exceptional horse surpassed them.

Such horses could outrun most sedans, think and move for themselves, and even carry an unconscious rider to safety.

Cassians were an outstanding breed that met all those qualifications. Even within the Central Continent, they were one of Constel’s claims to fame.

“Hmm, I see.”

Elodie sounded uninterested. She genuinely had no interest in horse riding. So little, in fact, that it had shattered her plan to follow Aster into the same club.

Aster tilted his head.

“Any club would be happy to have you.”

“... Haha, of course they would.”

Elodie answered coolly. It was true, too.

She had received countless invitations from the first day of recruitment. Even now, someone would occasionally hand her a club pamphlet.

... But going alone would only be lonely.

“Well, if you’re not interested in clubs, there’s nothing for it.”

With that, Aster left.

Elodie clenched both hands beneath her desk.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t interested!

It wasn’t that she wasn’t interested!!

Hey, were you listening?!

“... Ugh.”

A heavy sigh escaped Elodie’s lips.

Elodie got along with everyone around her. That made it hard to notice, but she actually had very few friends.

The only people she could really talk to were Aster Evans, who had just left, and Frondier.

It wasn’t that she had trouble making friends. Rather, her abilities were so exceptional that making friends was difficult.

She possessed overwhelming Divine Power, beloved by five gods, and belonged to the Richae family, a distinguished house in the north. Her looks and conduct were beyond reproach, her grades were outstanding, and she lacked even the usual little flaws.

So while many people, boys and girls alike, were well disposed toward Elodie, their feelings were mostly admiration or envy.

A flower atop a cliff. No one at Constel suited that description better.

“... I’m no different from anyone else.”

For all her exceptional talent and skill, she was still only seventeen. She had the same kinds of thoughts, enjoyed herself just as much, and dreamed just as others did.

But Elodie herself was the only one who saw it that way.

“I’m lone... not lonely!”

Elodie had begun muttering a complaint before catching herself and changing her words.

She had friends, too! Just not very many!

“... Let’s go home.”

What was she doing, carrying on by herself?

Joining a club at Constel was optional. She could simply choose not to join one—the so-called “go-home club.”

Her father, Ortel, would be pleased. He doted on his daughter.

... Not that Elodie had wanted to join the go-home club of her own accord.

Elodie trudged toward the school gates. The family chauffeur always had a car waiting when school let out.

Her little wish had been to join a club and tell him her pickup time had changed. She had even practiced keeping a straight face, afraid she would be so happy that she couldn’t stop grinning in front of him.

“...”

As she walked, she glanced toward the training rooms without really thinking about it.

... According to the rumors she had heard recently, he had been going there every day.

Another rumor said he had entered a dungeon and rescued a girl in his party.

Rumor had it that he had changed a little. That he was a different person now.

“Hmm. Well, then...”

Perhaps she should go take a look—no, verify the rumors.

Elodie took out her phone. It wasn’t for the reason she’d originally imagined, but she was going to let her chauffeur know her pickup time had changed.

* * *

[In Use]

Occupants: 1

User: Frondier de Roach

“It’s true.”

Elodie was a little impressed.

Frondier, of all people, in a training room.

Training on his own, without anyone telling him to!

“He wouldn’t damn well listen when I kept telling him to.”

Elodie leaned this way and that, trying to peer inside.

Each private room had a mirror made of one-way glass, allowing the occupant to see outside. It kept outsiders from watching the training while letting the person inside see who had come.

So if she stood in front of the mirror like this, he ought to open the door and come out... surely.

“Seriously, how focused can he be? Is he not coming out?”

Was he ignoring her?

Had he seen her and simply decided to ignore her?

Was even he looking down on her for having no friends?

“Let’s see how long you can keep that up.”

Elodie moved away from the mirror and over to the door. Each private room had a buzzer beside its door so visitors could alert the occupant.

Elodie reached to press the button with all her might—

SWISH

—but the door opened before she could.

“Oh.”

She sounded startled, almost dazed.

Frondier stood before her. His shirt was soaked from the collar to below his chest, and his upper body rose and fell gently from chest to shoulders.

His entire face was wet with sweat. Damp eyelashes slowly lowered over his eyes, then lifted again.

His languid expression was even more languid than usual, his subdued eyes more subdued still.

Elodie blinked several times. For a moment, she wondered whether she had come to the wrong room, even though the person before her was unmistakably Frondier.

She drew a breath. She had to say something. She couldn’t just stand there staring at him. Something, anything—

“... Y-you stink of sweat!”

Elodie blurted it out.

Without question, that was her finest display of quick thinking all year.

Frondier gave an incredulous little laugh.

“What do you expect in a place like this? At least give me time to wash up.”

“... Well, that’s true.”

“So, what brings you here?”

Frondier wiped his face with a towel he had ready. That made him look a little more like his usual self.

Elodie felt a little better. Though she wasn’t sure what she felt better about.

“I heard you’ve been coming to the training rooms a lot.”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve been practicing.”

With that, Frondier went to put his towel in his locker. As the distance between them grew, Elodie found her neck a little more comfortable.

... Oh. She had been looking up at Frondier.

That was only natural, since he was taller.

Perfectly natural, but somehow...

“Did you come to check? To see if I’m keeping up with my training? Are you still worried?”

“Who’s worried?”

Elodie denied it for the moment, but couldn’t find a more fitting word.

The truth was, she had been worried about Frondier for a very long time.

Elodie and Frondier had known each other since childhood. Worried as he grew lazier and lazier, she had offered him all sorts of advice, but it had all come to nothing.

Yet Frondier was different now.

What on earth had changed him, when all her wholehearted attempts to help had failed? What had brought it about?

Her desire to know felt so much like jealousy that she hadn’t actually asked.

Something suddenly occurred to her.

“Come to think of it, have you joined a club?”

“No. I’m not interested. I don’t have time, either.”

“So, the go-home club?”

“Yeah.”

Frondier took a drink of water after answering. The towel, the water, even his own locker—he certainly looked like a regular here.

It was a brief answer, but somehow it reassured Elodie. She felt she had found a kindred spirit.

This time, Frondier asked, “What about you?”

“Huh, me?”

A little flustered by the question, Elodie gave her usual answer.

“Me, well, none of them really interest me.”

Frondier stopped drinking. He lowered his bottle.

“You’re lying.”

“... What?”

“You want to join a club.”

He sounded as though he were declaring, “And yet the Earth moves.” He said it as if it were that obvious.

Even more bewildered than before, Elodie blinked.

“Hey, what do you know about it?”

“I know. You’re like me.”

Elodie’s face twisted into a fierce scowl.

What the hell was this lunatic talking about?

But his next words made her freeze.

“You feel like you’re alone.”

“...!”

“Like you’ve been stranded somewhere, all by yourself, and you’ll never be able to get out.”

Frondier spoke calmly. That very calmness made Elodie grow stiller with every word.

“Even when you talk to people and smile at them, you feel like they don’t truly understand you.”

“... You...”

Elodie tried to say something, but in the end she closed her mouth without managing it. The Frondier before her truly seemed unlike himself, even more than the rumors suggested.

He had said she was like him. Which meant that while he was talking about Elodie, he was ultimately talking about himself, too.

“... I thought things like that didn’t bother you.”

Frondier the Human Sloth.

Surely he himself had heard that universally known insult more often than anyone.

Yet he had always looked utterly untroubled, as though such things couldn’t hurt him. As though they were talking about someone else.

... But.

Frondier said, “You do the same.”

He was right.

“You pretend it doesn’t bother you, too.”

Like him, Elodie never let it show on her face. She pretended she was fine.

And yet, had Frondier seen through her?

“... Well, you have more weighing on your shoulders than I do, so it must be much harder for you.”

Frondier simply shrugged.

But Elodie couldn’t bring herself to believe she was suffering more than him. Especially now that she had heard what lay inside him.

Elodie raised her head. Somehow, she felt lighter.

Perhaps this simple comfort was what she had wanted all along. Perhaps having even one person who understood her was enough.

Clubs now seemed like a trivial matter, and Elodie could smile.

“... Thanks. I feel better now.”

She was far too embarrassed to say, “Your words made me feel better,” though.

“...”

But Frondier looked at her. His expression was as languid as ever, and somehow just as cool.

“Join a club.”

“It’s fine. I do want to, but I don’t have anyone to join with.”

“You can make friends. You’re not like me.”

The corner of Elodie’s eye twitched.

Those were words she didn’t want to hear. Not from Frondier. Especially not from Frondier, after the conversation they had just had.

Everyone treated her as though she were different. No one truly understood her.

In the end, was Frondier no different from the rest?

“... You said we were alike.”

Her voice came out so weak that she could hardly believe it was her own.

“Why are even you saying that? Even you?”

Frondier closed his eyes for a moment. His shoulders sank, as though he were exhaling every last breath inside him.

“Because I know how lonely you are.”

“You’re the same.”

“There’s nothing I can do. It’s my own fault, and I can’t undo it.”

“...”

“But you can change. That’s another way you and I are different.”

Frondier was far too composed for someone saying such things.

“At least you should do what you want, Elodie.”

His words sounded almost like a heartfelt wish.

Someone’s heartfelt wish, offered to Elodie de Inies Rishae.