Chapter 4: Not About Me—It's About a Friend of Mine
I was flustered by Esther's strange behavior, but first I brought out the words I had prepared.
"I intend to support your school life as much as I'm able. Is there anything troubling you?"
"Something troubling... there is 1 thing. But I suppose there's nothing to be done about it. It's a matter of the heart...."
A matter of the heart?
Does she mean she doesn't get along with the other students?
She certainly would receive a lot of jealousy for her looks.
Could she be being bullied?
"What exactly is the problem?"
"No, it's... it's fine...."
She lowered her voice and stole a glance at a box placed neatly beside the sofa.
It didn't seem intentional—more like an unconscious movement.
A box carefully wrapped in cloth—something like a lunch box, for instance.
"What's that?"
"...A sense of deprivation."
What is that supposed to mean.
Just what on earth is inside it.
"It's not about me—it's about a friend of mine."
When I continued to stare at it, she spoke with hesitation.
"That friend has s-s-someone she l-likes."
Esther's face filled with shyness.
Right....
That's clearly about you, no matter how anyone looks at it....
There was no reason for her own face to go red over a friend's love life.
It was 100% her own story.
It was the same as saying: this is about me, so please listen carefully.
Someone she likes.
Needless to say, it would be Raword.
Esther was a character who had no interest in any man other than Raword.
On the surface she carried herself as though she had no feelings for anyone—but she was actually a character whose heart broke and revived over and over with every little thing Raword did.
"No matter what approach she uses, the man only dislikes her.... This time, she made a lunch box by hand to try and change his heart.... But that too seems to have failed. It's been bothering me. I—my friend is having a hard time, so I'm having a hard time too, I suppose...."
Translating the roundabout language of Esther-speak into appropriate terms:
Raword dislikes Esther.
—That was what it amounted to.
I wanted to leap to my feet and cheer at that fact, but I held my expression carefully blank.
Now I understand why Esther has changed.
The romance is already over.
She has cleanly lost to the devout believer Raword has become.
She's probably at a stage where not even a sliver of hope is in sight.
So that's why she'd been giving off the air of a defeated soldier.
I feel bad for Esther, but this is the only path toward the future.
To prevent the apocalypse, there's no other way.
The 2 of you must not end up together.
I am the one who manipulated all of this from behind the scenes—so what kind of response should I give her?
"I don't know your friend—"
Playing ignorant and giving a modest bit of sympathy would be the best course.
"—but a lunch box takes more effort than people might think. On top of that, you'd have to anticipate the recipient's reaction, so there must have been no end of things to worry about. She must have prepared it at the crack of dawn—that man has let a good connection pass him by."
After saying it, I noticed Esther had buried her reddened face downward.
"No one has ever... said something like that."
"Hm?"
"About my... friend's lunch box."
Is she still keeping up the 'friend' pretense?
More than anything—the moment she said "no one has ever," the act of being a third party had already been shattered, hadn't it?
"It's never happened before... but lately she's only been getting hurt. She must have grown weak without realizing it."
Esther's eyes wavered.
It was obvious she was straining her throat, locking it tight so that no moisture would mix into her voice.
"It turns out... there are trees that don't fall even after being struck 10 times."
Well....
A person isn't a tree....
"No one comforted her. The number of people watching her get rejected just kept growing. From what I've briefly heard... apparently they've even started running a gambling ring on whether she'll succeed...."
They went that far?
Is she actually being bullied after all...?
"Thank you, Patron. I'll make sure to tell my friend. She'll probably... be happy."
Esther lifted her head and smiled faintly.
"...Right."
I nearly got swept into that smile.
At that radiant face, I nearly forgot even the question I needed to ask Esther.
Pull yourself together.
My relationship with Raword was important—but there was another matter to address.
Esther's ability.
The hidden ending was not an outcome that could be achieved by the protagonist alone.
When I was a player, I had certainly strengthened the protagonist and the heroines—all of them.
Esther's ability needed strengthening as well.
No—in Esther's case, perhaps "change" was the right word.
"Esther."
I opened her school record and broached the subject.
The 'Specialties/Aptitudes' section in particular.
"How is your magical energy control?"
When I brought up the magical energy control noted in the record, her expression went stiff.
"It's going... well."
It's not going well at all, from the look on her face.
"You can be honest with me. I have no intention of withdrawing the sponsorship just because there aren't immediate results."
"There's no progress yet, but...! If it's me... I can do it!"
Esther admitted it honestly.
The sight of her saying confidently that she could do it.
It seemed like a glimpse of the Esther I knew had briefly shown through just now.
Right now the heroines' grades are at rock bottom—but all of them have abilities on par with the protagonist.
They have the potential to prevent the apocalypse.
However, 1 or 2 of them awakening is not enough.
The condition for the hidden ending: the protagonist and all 5 heroines must grow to the highest level.
And all of the heroines' affection toward Raword must be at its lowest.
Both conditions must be met simultaneously.
Esther's trait was magical energy itself.
An incomparably vast amount of magical energy.
As wide and deep as a sea that no vessel could contain.
The game had firmly established it as the greatest in the world's setting.
However, because her magical energy overflowed so excessively, Esther was unable to control it.
The magic she cast was either too small or too large—1 of the 2.
There was no middle ground.
"If you had given your all at the entrance exam, first place might have been yours. But you held back out of concern for hurting the people around you. Rather than failing to control it and injuring someone else, you chose to come in last yourself."
In the entrance exam that measured combat ability, Esther had chosen the 'too small' side.
Whether her maximum output would have scored higher or lower than Raword's was unknown.
Only—Raword, who had claimed first place, was more than enough to spark Esther's interest.
Esther grew curious about what kind of training Raword had undergone to place first.
She wanted to know about him.
It was after that when she noticed that Raword was more diligent than his peers, that his hands were large and his back was broad.
Before she knew it, she had come to like him.
"Before I become a 2nd year... I'll definitely succeed...."
Esther spoke in a slightly smaller volume.
Indeed—if she succeeds in magical energy control she is a talent, and if she fails she is a disaster, with nothing in between.
A disaster.
Water and fire.
If she goes out of control, she causes a catastrophe like a flood and a wildfire combined.
It becomes a sea of flames.
But that's only when using magic of the 'destruction' attribute.
On the contrary—what if it were magic of a beneficial attribute?
"You don't need to control it."
"Pardon?"
"By my measure, you're already perfect."
A person's value changes according to their environment.
"Magical energy control is essential. I only end up endangering the people around me. Even when I cast a spell to make a small flame, it turns into a massive fire because of me. Even in the past, because of me...."
I knew the method to fix Esther's weakness.
Partly because I had been a player—but above all, because I had been Commander of the Holy Knights Order.
"Healing magic."
I knew the answer.
"Healing magic has no side effects even if magical energy overflows."
"...Healing magic?"
"On the contrary—the bigger the better, the more the better. You've probably never thought about sacred-type magic. Because you thought that to make a name for yourself as a mage, you'd have to become a powerful weapon or achieve a breakthrough."
"...Yes."
"More precious than power and knowledge is life."
I remembered the previous Commander who had died before my eyes because healing magic was absent—the man who had dumped the Holy Knights Order on me without permission and left.
I remembered the brothers who had gauged the end of their lives in rivers of gushing blood and wailed in horrible pain.
If Esther had learned healing magic.
If this form of Esther had been by our side.
It would have been different.
"The potency of healing magic is determined by the caster's magical energy. You could save someone even if their limbs had been torn off."
In an instant, Esther's eyes went wide.
"I don't need to control it...."
She followed along haltingly, repeating what I had said.
"You said a small flame becomes a massive fire."
"Ah, yes."
"Then with a single F-rank healing spell, you could save countless lives. Even with a spell capable only of regenerating a small scratch, you could become a savior."
The Esther of the hidden ending had given up on magical energy control.
Instead, she had somehow mastered healing magic and played an active role.
She had found her right fit only after reaching the final moment.
Starting now, I intend to guide Esther toward learning healing magic.
Rather than spending time training magical energy control, I'll make her a specialist in healing magic straight away.
If the timing is moved up, Esther could become stronger than she was in the hidden ending.
And—
"This is a side note."
There was 1 more reason it had to be healing magic specifically.
"When healing magic is used on undead, it converts into attack magic."
According to the game's setting, sacred-type healing magic deals damage to undead—but actually, I didn't need to go that far for proof.
I had confirmed it firsthand in my previous life.
With the enormous amount of magical energy Esther possesses, her peak would rise even higher.
"Healing magic has the attribute of regenerating living beings and destroying undead."
And what if that healing magic were an 'area-of-effect art'?
It could unleash firepower more overwhelming than most attack magic.
"Undead? There's none of those around anymore."
Well, for now that's a natural reaction.
Right now, it can only be.
I had conveyed everything I needed to say.
Time to go meet the next heroine.
"Well then—I'll see you again."
"Ah, yes! Thank you so much for the scholarship selection. And for the kind words too!"
Perhaps bothered that the conversation had gone on long, Esther rose quickly.
She bowed deeply at the waist and walked briskly toward the back door.
"Esther."
"Yes?"
"You forgot this."
I pointed to the lunch box sitting forlornly on the sofa.
"Your sense of deprivation."
"Ah, a—! You're right!"
Startled, Esther came back and hugged the lunch box to her chest.
"I can tell it's an item with a lot of history—but if you were going to throw it away anyway, would it be all right if I ate it? I happen to be hungry."
"What? It belongs to my friend, so I'd have to get permission...."
"May I eat it?"
"I—it must have gone cold by now! You probably eat only expensive, fine food at home, so something I made...."
"I don't mind."
"Ah... alright...."
Esther set the lunch box on the table and sat back down on the sofa.
Dalchak.
I slowly opened the lunch box.
The fact that everything inside a familiar-looking lunch box was Western cuisine did deflate things somewhat—but it was still a health-conscious meal.
Eggplant lightly grilled in olive oil, a salad with tomatoes, chicken breast torn along the grain into easy-to-eat pieces, sautéed spinach, and a perfectly cooked salmon steak.
A so-called 5-dish course.
With '5 dishes' in mind, the harem route did come to mind for some reason....
Above all, what mattered was the fact that I—not that insufferable protagonist—was the one eating food that should have gone to him.
It had cooled down a little, but that was fine.
Aah.
The victor's feast.
Hap—
Protein first.
I bit into the salmon steak once, and the fish flesh crumbled pleasantly, a moist juiciness seeping through.
"How does it... taste?"
Esther—who by her own premise had no particular reason to be curious since it was her friend who made it—asked anyway.
"Hm? It's delicious. It doesn't taste like something a student made."
"I'm so glad...!"
Esther's expression softened as she beamed.
Glad...?
It wasn't even Raword who said it was delicious.
I had simply stolen and eaten what was the protagonist's.
"Try the others too."
"I was planning to anyway—but how long do you intend to keep watching?"
"What? Ah... y-you're right. Excuse me."
"Go on out now. I'll return the empty container next time."
At those words, Esther paused for a moment—then affixed a small smile to the corner of her mouth and stood.
"Yes, I'll see you again."
004
I continued meeting the heroines.
First, 1st-year Magic Division student Esther.
Next—
"It's Rebecca─!"
Rebecca flung the door open with a crash and immediately threw up a V with both hands.
She struck a pose, and her blond hair cut into a neat bob swayed as if showing off.
Dazzling.
That was the word I realized the moment I saw her was most fitting.
A necklace, earrings, and various accessories adorned her further.
An appearance that made you think you could hear the sound effect sparkle every time she moved.
And yet it never felt excessive in the slightest—because her face shines brighter than any ornament, no doubt.
Her official setting being that her hairstyle changes every day made it clear how much she cared about her appearance.
Subtly green eyes and a bob cut as though sliced by a blade.
Her eyes, as if a cat and a fox had been blended together, gave a cool impression—but her lively, warm manner of speaking broke through the cold exterior.
The 2 hairpins fastened at her bangs also seemed to play a decisive role.
"2nd-year Magic Division, it's Rebecca─! I'm walking the path of the sword with the Sword Saint as my goal!"
...That single line of self-introduction is a complete bundle of contradictions.
How are Magic Division and Sword Saint in the same sentence together.
The sense of inconsistency wasn't only the bright disposition at odds with the cool impression.
Come to think of it, there was 1 part of Rebecca she didn't decorate.
Her hands.
No rings. No nail art.
Walking the path of the sword with the Sword Saint as my goal.
She said it like someone who says they're dating with marriage as the goal.
On top of that, the fact that she herself had absolutely no idea what the problem was—that was the real problem.
The conversation I had with her passed in a blur, and—
Next.
"...I'm Lucia."
When Lucia gave a slight bow of her head, her black hair swayed.
Dark circles sat thick beneath her sky-blue eyes.
Her complexion looked as though she would topple over if tapped—utterly exhausted.
A small frame, but a figure that captured the eye.
A silhouette that seemed unreal.
If there truly were a goddess, she must have thought: it's a bit unconscionable, but wouldn't it be fine for 1 body like this to exist in the world?—and crafted her accordingly.
"Lucia is a 3rd-year in the Swordsmanship Division."
What kind of way is that to talk.
Ah.
Before I knew it, Lucia had closed her eyes.
She had been dozing since the start of our conversation.
"I apologize. I do night work, so I'm sleepy during the day."
...What?
Lucia stole a glance at my reaction and gave a subtle smile.
What she meant by night work was work for some guild's assassination unit.
I knew her background because I had played the game—but if I hadn't known that fact, I would have displayed a genuinely flustered expression.
Even so, I hadn't completely hidden my reaction, and Lucia watched me as if finding it amusing.
So this is what a 3rd-year is like.
Beneath the stiff manner of speaking, there was a mischievous side.
"Lucia, I'd like you to focus on your studies. That's why I'm giving you the scholarship."
"I'm truly grateful for the scholarship."
Lucia bowed her head deeply once more.
"But Lucia has no intention of quitting the work."
"You can't quit—or you won't?"
"Neither."
Lucia drew a clear line, openly.
Well, for now let that pass.
This is the time to focus on Esther, and there's no need to rush.
"I'll end up having to deal with things one by one anyway."
"...Deal with?"
"Just talking to myself."
And so I met 3 heroines in succession.
Amelia, who had no time to even show her face, and Veronica, who had received the heavy disciplinary penalty of a 1-year suspension, I put off to the next opportunity.
5 heroines.
As if by some magic, they all come to like 1 man.
***
After school.
The moment Esther returned to the dormitory, she flopped face-down on her bed.
Rolling left. Rolling right.
She tossed and turned, recalling the events of the day.
Lately she had been crying every day.
She would replay the image of herself always striving to win his heart and Raword always reacting coldly—lamenting the gap in feelings that refused to close no matter what.
The more she stacked up her unrequited love for Raword, the wider the gap grew.
A scale tilting only on 1 side.
The balance was off.
But today, a different face circled through her mind.
Daywin Hasgard.
A patron who had come from a distinguished earldom.
He was a peculiar person.
Casual words and actions that didn't look like those of a noble's son.
The sight of him accepting without any fuss a lunch box made by an amateur—and one that had already gone cold at that.
And—
She must have prepared it at the crack of dawn—that man has let a good connection pass him by.
You don't need to control it. You're already perfect.
May I eat it?
Words that had surged in like a wave, swept through her heart, and passed on—drifted back to her.
She had never heard such words before.
It was laughable and pathetic that she had been comforted and put at ease by someone she'd met for the first time—but she couldn't deny that his words had reached her warmly.
I'll return the empty container next time.
More than the other words, that single, utterly meaningless sentence was the one that kept circling in her mind.
So there's a next time.
Rolling over, the familiar dormitory door came into view.
Her roommate's cosmetics, placed atop the desk, were also in the same spot they were always in.
An ordinary day, as usual.
She didn't entirely know why—but even though today was clearly the day she'd had her trump-card lunch box rejected by Raword.
"Strange."
For some reason, today the tears would not come.
***
[Ending (1): Locked]
[It—it's not like I like you or anything?]
"Huh...?"
Mid-way through drying off after a bath, a message appeared out of nowhere—saying an ending had been locked.
Without any warning, just: tuk.
Ending 1.
1 of Esther's 5 endings.
Locked.
"What's this...?"
I didn't do anything...?