SRS 59

The betrayal left Yohan staring wide-eyed, until his friends gently patted his shoulder.

“Don’t cry, Yohan. Your lecture was amazing.”

“Yes. You have no idea how kind and helpful you were. I’ve never had a class like that before.”

“You’re the best teacher we’ve ever had.”

“You were really kind!”

“We’ll count on you from now on, Yohan!”

“You’re the best, Yohan!”

“Become a professor, Yohan!”

“…”

At first, their words sounded like warm encouragement, but the further it went, the more it started sounding like fanatic devotion. The brief pride he’d felt over finishing class safely quickly died down. Hearing his classmates chant for him to become a professor left him with a complicated expression.

“…I’m not becoming a professor.”

“Oh.”

When Yohan’s voice turned genuinely dispirited, the crowd that had been begging him to stay as assistant fell silent.

Realizing the mood had grown heavy, Yohan hurriedly used divine power to restore his expression and tone.

“However, thank you for listening during class. I’m sure there were plenty of flaws, but it went well thanks to all of you.”

“No, Yohan, we should be the ones thanking you. We were the ones who made things difficult, and you still handled the lesson so well.”

“No, Torena, really…”

“No, Yohan, we really…”

“…Are you two going to keep going like that forever?”

When two overly polite priests started a never-ending loop of thanks and modesty between them, the other students finally lost patience. With identical weary faces, they grabbed Torena by the arm and dragged her off toward the dorms.

“We’ll head back, Yohan. Get some rest.”

“You worked hard today!”

After finally ending the exchange, Yohan waved lazily to see them off. Judging by their bright, energized expressions, the lesson had genuinely helped. That, at least, made him happy.

He continued waving until everyone disappeared into the dorms, then finally lay on the grass of the courtyard.

“Haah…”

He realized that teaching drained mental strength more than anything.

His body wasn’t tired, but the constant effort to explain clearly and to phrase things in ways each student could understand had worn his mind thin.

“…I’m never becoming a professor.”

He’d never been interested in the position, but after one day of what was basically being a full professor under the title of assistant, his interest had vanished completely. Doing it once or twice as an experience was one thing, but doing it formally, day after day, sounded unbearable.

He took a deep breath and looked up at the blue sky. The divine energy he’d spent was recovering slowly, his gaze losing focus as he began to drift off.

Tap tap tap.

Footsteps approached, casting a shadow over him. The friend standing over him blocked the sunlight, and Yohan greeted him in a drowsy tone.

“…Hey, Mikael.”

“Hey, Yohan. You look exhausted.”

“…As you can see.”

Too tired to deny it, Yohan laughed softly, still sprawled on the ground. Mikael sat down beside him, his pale hand forming a little shade to protect Yohan’s golden eyes from the sun.

“How was class?”

“…The headmaster told everyone to praise him.”

“What?”

Mikael’s expression immediately turned harsh. Yohan couldn’t help but laugh at that reaction. The disgust on Mikael’s face whenever the headmaster was involved was addictive.

Maybe because he rarely looked like that.

“I’ll tell you everything that happened so you’ll know what to expect tomorrow.”

Since Mikael would be taking his place as assistant the next day, Yohan explained everything about the second-period Divine Studies class.

How the headmaster’s lesson had started decently, then completely fallen apart. How he’d ended up taking over. How, with no better material, he’d taught the others what Mikael had once shown him, how to shape and control divine power.

When he finished, Mikael said nothing.

“…What’s wrong? Did I explain something wrong?”

Yohan wondered if he’d made a mistake. Most of the class had already learned the technique from him, if he’d taught it incorrectly, that could be serious. His eyes flickered nervously until Mikael’s hand, which had been shading him, dropped lower to cover his eyes.

“It’s not that, so don’t overthink it.”

“Not that?”

“Yes.”

“Then why are you looking at me like that?”

“…It’s just… surprising. I didn’t think you’d understand it well enough to teach it to others.”

Mikael spoke with genuine amazement. Yohan, thinking he was only trying to flatter him, felt his face warm and let out a shy laugh.

“You don’t have to say it like that. It’s your method that worked. I only repeated what you’d explained to me.”

“I don’t know… You didn’t just explain it, you went around and helped everyone yourself. In the end, they all learned it from you. Doesn’t that mean you have a talent for teaching?”

“…Does it?”

Yohan didn’t think so. Mikael had been excellent and wise when he taught him, so he’d simply copied Mikael’s explanation and method. The reason his classmates learned quickly was, to Yohan’s mind, because Mikael had the real gift for teaching.

Under the hand that shaded his eyes, Yohan blinked a few times. The flutter of his eyelashes tickled Mikael’s palm.

“By the way, when you said you used my method and taught it the same way… You mean you taught them exactly the way I taught you?”

“Huh? …Yes, I guess so?”

“Hmm…”

Mikael hummed, thinking he might have done something wrong this time, Yohan tried to sit up, but the hand he’d left lying on the grass was suddenly caught.

“Like this?”

“Yes. It’s easier when you’re directly touching. You can feel how the other person’s energy moves, so it’s simpler to copy.”

“….”

Mikael fell silent. Yohan wondered why, and finally tilted his head slightly to slip free of his grasp. His view cleared, and he saw Mikael’s face.

“…Ah.”

The moment he saw his expression, Yohan let out a small sigh. It was that look.

The same one Mikael had worn when he’d revealed his identity, and then teased him about it afterward.

In short, a little…

“Are you sulking?”

“Why do you think so?”

“Because that’s exactly what your face looks like.”

“It looks perfectly normal to me.”

“No, it’s a little different.”

At least in this area, Yohan was the expert. Mikael didn’t spend his days staring into mirrors, after all.

He blinked, then laughed softly.

“If you say so, then maybe it is.”

Even though Mikael admitted it, Yohan didn’t feel like he’d won. It left a strange taste in his chest. As he closed his eyes again, the wind blowing against their skin, Mikael called his name softly, keeping him from drifting off.

“Yohan.”

“Yes.”

“You’re too kind to everyone. You should be careful. Don’t trust people so easily, and don’t be so kind so carelessly. Most humans are greedy. In the end, they’ll use you.”

Was that a personal story? It didn’t sound like a joke. Realizing why Mikael’s expression had been so complicated earlier, Yohan remained silent for a while, then answered without opening his eyes.

“Even if that’s true, it’s not my kindness that’s at fault. It’s theirs, for choosing to use me.”

“…..”

“Being too afraid of betrayal to show kindness… that’d be sad, for me.”

Yohan was a priest. He hadn’t started as one, and it hadn’t been his choice, nor had his first reason been pure, but in the end, he’d become one.

He prayed every day to understand his god’s will. He met people to deliver blessings. He lived as rightly as he could to carry out divine intent. It had begun as duty, but now it was habit, the rhythm of his life.

He found peace in that way of living. Watching people smile through his prayers and blessings, he believed in miracles. So to tell him not to show kindness out of fear of malice was to deny his entire life.

“You’ll get hurt.”

“I already have. That’s why I fell here in the first place.”

Mikael’s quiet whisper drew a soft laugh from Yohan. He heard the grass rustling beside him, and when he opened his eyes, he blinked in surprise. Mikael had lain down next to him.

Their eyes met. The pale color in Mikael’s eyes reflected him.

“That’s why I worry about you, Yohan. You’re bound to get hurt again. Believe me if you want, consider it an angel’s prophecy.”

It sounded like a curse, yet it didn’t feel unpleasant. Yohan could tell the words came from genuine concern.

He hesitated before speaking again. He’d seen the anger buried inside the man, so he didn’t want to adress subject carelessly, but some things needed to be said.

“…You’re kind.”

“I’m only kind because I plan to use you.”

“That’s not what I meant. You hate the human who betrayed you. But you’re still living among people, and you’re doing fine. No matter what your reason is, you’ve still been good to me. That means you’re both strong and good.”

“…We should get up.”

Even though Yohan was praising him, Mikael sat up as if he’d heard something uncomfortable. Yohan sat up too and caught his arm, meeting his eyes to say without using words, “Don’t run from this.”