Inera furrowed her brow, studying Croy intently, and her eyes narrowed as she recognized him.
"You know me? Wait... I know you too! You're that soldier who jumped onto my car!"
Recognition flashed in her eyes - along with a hint of anger.
Fredrik turned to Croy and gave him a disappointed look.
"Not cool, man."
'You traitor! Just because there's a pretty girl here, you act all self-righteous!' Croy thought angrily but then sighed.
He had planned to apologize to Inera anyway, so he mustered all his courage.
"About last time... I'm sorry. My behavior was really childish." He tried to sound sincere.
Inera scrutinized him for a few moments. While Croy wasn't easily unsettled by anyone's gaze - Spider had given him far worse looks - this was different.
He feared she might never respond, but then she spoke.
"It's all right. I wasn't exactly polite to a soldier either. I'm sorry as well - and the car has already been washed. Let's just forget about it."
Croy nodded in relief.
"Thank you for your forgiveness, Lady Clayford."
Inera glanced at him briefly, then asked with a slight frown, "So, you're also a new student?"
"Obviously." Croy gestured to Fredrik, who stood grinning beside him.
"This is Fredrik. My, uh... partner."
Fredrik gave a slight bow and beamed at her.
"Fredrik Connor, at your service, milady."
Croy inwardly rolled his eyes. What a suck-up. Inera nodded coolly.
"Nice to meet you, Fredrik."
She studied him for a moment, then offered a polite smile and nodded to both of them.
"Well, gentlemen, if you'll excuse me, I need to get through."
She stepped toward the restroom door and began to squeeze between them.
Croy and Fredrik exchanged glances. Their thoughts were remarkably in sync at that moment. If there was indeed a ghost dog inside, Inera would likely find and pet it first - which meant the dog could only be petted once more or not at all afterward.
Perhaps the young aristocrat already knew about the ghost dog and was pretending ignorance to mislead them.
She was clever.
Croy shot Fredrik a serious look. Inera was almost inside the ladies' room.
"Now or never," he murmured.
Fredrik was visibly sweating.
"You owe me for this," he whispered.
"Thank you, brother. I won't forget this," Croy replied, his voice filled with mock sorrow.
Then he turned to Inera.
"I'm sorry, Lady Clayford."
Inera looked at him in confusion just as Croy took a quick step toward her and pushed her aside. She cried out in surprise, and Fredrik darted past them, kicking open the door to the ladies' restroom.
"Let me go!" Inera shouted angrily at Croy.
"Sorry, just until my friend finishes his business. He can't go when others are around, you know?" Croy said, tightening his grip on the struggling Inera.
"That's the ladies' room, you perverts!"
"Please, not you too," Croy groaned.
He called out to Fredrik, "What do you see—"
"Shadow Hand!" Inera interrupted, casting her spell.
Before he could react, a hand of pure darkness emerged from Inera's shadow and struck him with tremendous force directly in the stomach.
Fortunately, as a habit from the army, he always had his barrier spell passively active. Even though he wasn't directly hit, the sheer force of the shadow fist pushed him back, and he slammed into the wall, the impact knocking the wind out of him.
'Damn, she's stronger than she looks!' he cursed internally, gasping for air.
He found himself on the floor, his cheek pressed against the cool tile.
Inera spared him only a brief glance before Fredrik's voice suddenly rang out.
"I've got him, Croy!"
Inera immediately dashed into the restroom. Croy pulled himself up as quickly as he could and followed her, praying that no one saw him chasing a girl into the ladies' room.
Ahead, Inera stood with her back to him, keeping her eyes on Fredrik. Fredrik, for his part, clung to a small, sky-blue mana dachshund identical to the professor's, only without a collar.
Fredrik looked as if Inera's mere approach had shocked him into paralysis.
"Give him to me," Inera demanded in a calm yet insistent voice.
Determination gleamed in her eyes, and her shadow hand was still active.
Fredrik hesitated briefly, glanced at Croy, then shook his head, a broad smile forming on his lips.
"Sorry, milady," he replied with seemingly unshakable composure.
"I need to hand this one over to my partner - but we can certainly talk another time. Maybe over a nice cup of coffee."
He winked and quickly cast a spell: "Haste!"
As soon as Fredrik uttered the words, Croy felt a sudden surge of energy. Fredrik had cast the spell on him. This was his chance.
He moved, using his accelerated speed, and darted past Inera, reaching out toward the ghost dog.
But before he could get to Fredrik, a stall door swung open directly in front of him.
"I can't take it anymore!" shrieked a girl in uniform who burst out of the stall in a panic.
The door slammed into Croy's face, sending him painfully to the floor. His barrier spell hadn't even activated.
He only saw the screaming girl run past them, near tears, shouting, "I just wanted to skip class!"
She disappeared out the door.
'Who skips class on the first day? Wait, what am I even thinking?'
Inera glanced at Croy with a confused expression but only for a moment. Then her focus returned to Fredrik and the dachshund. In the blink of an eye, her shadow hand shot forward, and knocked Fredrik aside.
Inera sensed her chance and sprinted forward. The dachshund slipped from Fredrik's grasp and fell to the floor between them.
"Not so fast!"
Croy shouted, instinctively forming his fingers into the shape of a gun. Although he didn't have his Spellpistol, he knew his spells inside out.
He murmured softly, pointing his finger at Inera.
"Mana Bul..."
He felt the weight of the spell. Violet-black mana began swirling into a sphere at his fingertip, violently forming a bullet.
But then a thought flashed through his mind.
'What am I doing?'
The sphere he was forming was a deadly military spell.
Quickly, he lifted his hand and deflected the bullet.
"...let!"
The mana bullet shot past Inera's head, silently and lethally piercing the restroom ceiling, not slowing at all before disappearing somewhere into the sky.
Inera hadn't even noticed the attack. Without hesitation, she grabbed the mana dachshund and petted him with a satisfied smile. The ghost dog barked and then dissolved into sparkling blue mana.
Croy knelt frozen on the floor. His heart pounded in his chest. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead; his breath came in shallow gasps. He stared at the spot where the mana bullet had just passed.
He had almost... killed Inera.
All color drained from his face. He had fired a deadly spell at a citizen of the Empire. She was his classmate, someone who embodied the life and culture of the Empire, while he... he was nothing more than a soldier with an instinctive reaction to eliminate a target.
His world was collapsing before his eyes.
He was a soldier - but was he also a murderer? Nothing more than an instinct-driven animal?
Fredrik leaned against the wall, panting, a weary smile on his face.
"Well," he murmured, "so much effort for a little dog..."
Inera made a small jump of joy, clenching her fist triumphantly.
"Got it!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with pride. She turned to Fredrik and Croy, beaming, utterly unfazed by the chaos they'd caused.
Croy, however, knelt motionless, his eyes staring into nothingness. His heart raced as if he'd just come out of a battle, yet inside, there was a cold emptiness.
In his mind's eye, he saw his finger shaped like a gun, the violet, deadly glow of the mana bullet that had missed Inera's head by mere inches.
A soldier's instinct, a deadly reflex.
A monster.
He felt his hands trembling, and a bitter, salty taste spread in his mouth.
'I'm sorry, Mom... Dad...' he thought desperately, struggling to suppress his feelings, just as he'd learned in the army.
'I didn't want to become a murderer.'
How could he have been so blind? In the military, he'd become a killer. Perhaps a soldier, but still a killer. He couldn't even control himself.
The sweat wouldn't stop dripping. It was bitterly cold.
He had killed many times before. But those were rebels. They were evil... they weren't good people...
He looked at Inera. Was she a good person?
A tiny tear formed in his eye.
For the first time in three years, he felt as if he'd lost something. Something valuable.
"Uh... Croy? Are you okay? You didn't get the dachshund, but it's not that bad..." Fredrik's voice sounded uncertain.
Croy lifted his head. Inera and Fredrik were looking at him curiously but also somewhat concerned. Inera even seemed to feel a little guilty all of a sudden.
A hollow laugh escaped Croy. He directed his gaze to the hole his spell had left in the ceiling.
'They didn't even notice.'
They thought he was sitting there sulking because he couldn't pet the dachshund. What had Professor Burton said? They'll be very sad if you can't pet Little Paw.
How funny.
The thought pulled Croy slightly out of his shock.
"Everything's fine," he stammered as he slowly got to his feet. "I was just a bit shaken."
Fredrik and Inera exchanged quick glances, a hint of concern in their eyes. It moved Croy in a way he hadn't expected. He barely knew these two, yet they seemed genuinely worried about him.
They had no idea what was going on inside him, and yet... they were there.
"Um... sorry," Inera murmured, nervously averting her gaze.
"I didn't know it meant so much to you... so... well... I'm sorry." She awkwardly scratched the back of her head, her fingers running through the black and blue strands of her hair.
Fredrik tried to lighten the mood with an encouraging grin.
"Besides... well, I already petted the dachshund. But don't worry; I'll help you find another one!"
He patted Croy on the shoulder.
Croy wiped the last of the sweat from his forehead and hoped neither of them had noticed the tear that had escaped his eye earlier. He cleared his throat, forcing his thoughts back to the present, and felt a small, relieved smile forming on his lips.
"Thanks for your concern," he murmured, standing up straight.
"I'll be fine."
He turned to Fredrik, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"And don't worry about the dachshund. You really earned it - after all, you were the one who bravely and voluntarily jumped into the ladies' restroom!"
Fredrik snorted and raised his hands defensively.
"Voluntarily? Remember, I told you, you owe me one!"
They stared at each other for a moment before bursting into hearty laughter.
Inera sighed, feigning annoyance, and rolled her eyes.
"Glad you two are getting along so well. I thought you were breaking up."
"Breaking up?" Both boys looked at her, confused.
Inera grinned mischievously.
"Well, you act almost like a couple - the way you bicker..."
"We're not!" Fredrik and Croy exclaimed in unison, which only amused Inera more.
Fredrik glanced at Croy with a grin.
"Well, at least she doesn't think we're perverts anymore."
Croy couldn't help but grin back.
"Shall we say we're making progress?"
They burst into laughter again, and this time Inera shook her head, laughing along with them.
"So," she finally said, her voice softer, "I'll be going then. Sorry about the dog, Mr. Belmont."
He shrugged.
"It was a competition, Lady Clayford. You won."
Inera shook her head, a thoughtful expression in her eyes.
"You're not as bad as I thought, you know? Just call me Inera."
Then she smiled at him, and Croy's heart skipped a beat. Damn, she was beautiful.
"Nice to meet you, Inera. You can call me Croy."
For a moment, they exchanged light smiles. It was a surprisingly pleasant moment - one in which Croy felt he had found something more than just fleeting acquaintances at the academy.