Chapter 92

Chapter 92

From Cosmic Rascal to Professor.

Episode 92: Chasing After You (2).

“Two weeks from now, we’re hosting the job experience event,” Kendra announced.

The Job Experience Event lives up to its straightforward name. It’s an occasion where college students share insights about their majors with younger students from academia who are in the process of choosing their own fields of study. For these academic students, the event represents a valuable opportunity to gather firsthand information that could influence their decision on which major to pursue. Similarly, it’s beneficial for college students as well, who earn ten hours of volunteer credit for their participation. Given these advantages, the event presents a win-win scenario, making it an attractive option for all involved. There’s really no reason to pass it up.

“Make sure to fill out the career surveys I’m handing out and return them by next week,” Kendra instructed.

“Yes,” we chorused.

She distributed the A4-sized surveys, which probed our future aspirations: what we hoped to become, the career paths we were considering, and the majors that would get us there. The questions were open-ended, requiring thoughtful, essay-type responses. Even the top students at Stellarium Academy found themselves pensively chewing on their pens.

I filled out my survey swiftly and then tuned into the surrounding buzz of my classmates. Christine was set on law school, while James was leaning towards becoming an editor, just like in the original novel.

Ceti, finishing her survey with a giggle, opted for Business Administration. Rustila, on the other hand, completed hers almost as quickly but with a look that mixed worry and hope.

“Aidel, do you think I can really be a soldier?”

“Is it because your parents are against it?”

“Yeah, but still…” she trailed off, her hesitation not from a lack of desire but the fear of estrangement from her family.

I leaned in closer to Rustila, keeping my voice low. “Even if no one else understands, you should pursue what makes you happy.”

She didn’t respond, her expression unreadable.

“Rustila, just aim to live happily.”

She looked up at me, her face blank for a moment. I gave her shoulder a reassuring pat and stood up.

After school, Rustila and Ceti split up to attend to their respective commitments. Ceti had recently joined the economics club, a strategic move to bolster her impressive financial acumen. I had no doubts about her; after all, making money was second nature to my sister.

“Ha, haap!”

“Your footwork is sluggish. Move faster!”

I found Rustila training intensely with Naier on the small field below the hill. I had brought her a sports drink, but she was so focused that I couldn’t find an opportunity to interrupt.

“Oh, isn’t it Mr. Aidel!” a voice exclaimed from behind me.

Turning around, I recognized the reporter I had seen earlier that morning. She descended the grassy slope with brisk steps and offered a polite greeting.

“It’s me, Sophia. I appreciate you taking the time for the interview earlier today.”

“Ah, yes, of course.”

“Do you mind if I join you here for a bit?”

“Sure,” I replied, albeit hesitantly. I realized it was crucial to start managing my public image more carefully.

So there I sat, next to a journalist I barely knew, watching the sunset. In the background, the crackle of two real plasma swords—not the usual wooden practice ones—created a symphony of sounds against the evening sky. The clash was so intense that it sent shivers down my spine, even from a distance.

“Wow, that’s intense. Is the blonde woman also a student?” Sophia asked.

“Yes, she’s a classmate.”

“I see. So, a classmate and perhaps a friend? Or even a girlfriend…”

I shot the journalist a sharp look.

“Just kidding, just kidding,” she laughed awkwardly.

“I would appreciate it if you refrained from making such assumptions, even in jest.”

“Are you two not on good terms, then?”

I bit back my response. Sophia’s interview hadn’t concluded; she was still probing, skirting the edge of decency. My throat was dry, and I longed for a sip of the drink I had brought with me.

“Wow. You’re reading a paper even now?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Are you working on new research? I love delving into research. Believe it or not, I was a science major. My name is Sophia, you know? ‘Sophia’ means wisdom, and this is…”

“Excuse me.”

A shadow fell across the reporter mid-sentence. Drip, drip. Drops of water, carried by the autumn wind, fell onto the parched ground. I followed the sound of the bell upstream like a salmon. There was Rustila, soaked in sweat, with a pink towel draped around her neck, glaring at us with the intense gaze of a military officer.

“Who are you, standing next to Aidel?” she demanded.

“I’m Sophia, a newspaper reporter. I was interviewing Mr. Aidel.”

“I see.” Rustila wedged herself between Sophia and me. “If you’re done with the interview, I’d appreciate it if you could leave now.”

“No, we haven’t finished yet…”

“Then why were you discussing the meaning of your name instead of focusing on the interview?”

“That’s—”

“Everyone in Stellarium has a tight schedule. Please don’t interrupt Aidel’s studies any further.”

“I’m sorry! I’ll leave right away!” Reporter Sophia exited hastily.

My heart raced, surprised by the encounter. Rustila’s imposing presence, reminiscent of the traits that emerged after her parent’s death in the original story, was at work here. Has she matured? The experience felt as precarious as walking on thin ice.

“Thanks for stepping in. I was really in a tight spot,” I said with a wry smile.

“Did you two just meet today?”

“It wasn’t much of a meeting. She basically just tagged along without an invitation.” I handed her an ion drink as I spoke. “Ever since we collaborated on that paper, she’s been shadowing me all day.”

“…I see. That’s reassuring,” Rustila replied, her tense expression softening. The wind picked up, swirling around us. Dressed lightly, Rustila swallowed slowly, a bead of sweat forming at the tip of her chin and dropping.

“Thanks, I needed that.”

“You might catch a cold,” I remarked, setting aside the paper and draping my coat over her shoulders.

“Ah, oh…”

“What’s wrong?”

“Just some muscle pain. Do you want some of the drink, too?”

“Just a sip, thanks.” My throat was dry from the lengthy discussion with the reporter. After a few sips, I handed the drink back to her.

“I need to go.”

“Where to?”

“I left a document in the classroom,” I suddenly remembered as I glanced at the paper.

“Sonia.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Why is she here?” I had just returned to the classroom after attending to Rustila, and there she was—a silver-haired girl asleep in a corner.

“She’s been sleeping here for quite some time.”

“I hadn’t noticed her.”

“She’s quite small, easy to overlook.” I collected the papers I had come for and walked over to the girl. A few strands of her white hair fluttered in the breeze from an open window. Her eyes were closed, serene as a sleeping princess. To an onlooker, she might appear angelic, hardly the notorious villainess she was reputed to be.

I clicked my tongue and gently shook her shoulder. “Zelnya, wake up.”

No response.

“Miss, sleeping here will give you a stiff neck,” I said a bit more loudly, hoping to provoke a reaction. Yet, she remained unresponsive, her breathing soft but slightly congested.

“Sonia.”

“Yes, young master.”

“Check her temperature, please.”

“311.8. She has a fever.”

“Let’s stick to Celsius, Sonia.”

“38.6 degrees.” Zelnya’s condition could worsen if left unattended. Despite her reputation, she was a classmate, and I couldn’t just leave her here.

Carefully, I lifted her by the shoulders. She was slightly sweaty.

“Sonia, would you mind closing the window?”

“Of course.”

“She’s really out. Not even flinching with all this movement. How deep does she sleep?”

“It appears she took an antihistamine. She might be suffering from seasonal allergies.” It was clear that she needed more care than a classroom corner could offer. Her presence here was still a mystery, but immediate concerns first—she needed to be in the infirmary.

With Sonia’s assistance, I hoisted Zelnya onto my back. As we prepared to leave, a piece of paper slipped from her pocket and fluttered to the ground.

“This is…”

“A career survey form.” I picked it up. Other than Zelnya’s name, student number, and her marked future aspiration—‘Doctor’—the form was blank. Her choice was driven by prestige; the top-ranked department was her target, regardless of the field. Such ambition could make her a formidable peer in graduate school.

She was a friend, albeit one motivated by rankings. While some might argue it prudent to eliminate a potential threat now, while she was vulnerable, that wasn’t my style. In this timeline, Zelnya had committed no crimes. Why act against her?

“Sonia. Let’s go.” I adjusted Zelnya on my back, ready to move her to the infirmary.

Crunch.

A sharp, burning pain shot through my left shoulder.