Ch.192Dream (1)

After sending Cherry off, I returned to the historical archives. Since I’d given her directions, I planned to wait while reading some books.

“Hey. Are you really Xenon?”

Of course, it’s natural for Elena to suspect I’m Xenon. Cherry called me Xenon right in front of her, so it would be strange if she didn’t ask.

I flinched as I was pulling a book from the shelf when I heard her question. Looking at Elena, I noticed her expression filled with curiosity.

“…Do you think so too, Professor?”

“No? I just asked out of curiosity. I don’t understand why that girl suddenly called you Xenon.”

Elena pushed up her glasses habitually as she answered. Hearing that, I couldn’t help but give a bitter smile.

I don’t know what circumstances Cherry has, but her hasty action put my secret at risk of exposure.

My priority is to deny it, but first I need to understand what she’s thinking.

“What if I really am Xenon? What would you do, Professor?”

“I’d ask if you’re a prophet or someone from the future. Or if not, I’d ask if we could do joint research. Someone who knows forbidden magic that even I don’t know about must know history even better.”

“That’s all?”

“Look. I’m just an ordinary scholar, not a noble ruling territory or a soldier protecting the country. Do you know how enjoyable it is to uncover knowledge that others don’t know?”

That’s truly a scholar’s mindset. It must be that kind of exploratory passion that allowed her to become a scholar and freely visit the Alfheim sanctuary.

Additionally, the elven racial traits play a role too. As I mentioned before, elves dedicate their entire lives to their chosen profession and don’t show much interest in other matters.

So revealing that I’m Xenon to Elena probably wouldn’t be a big problem. She’d probably be delighted to have gained a top-tier slave—no, assistant.

From what I’ve seen so far, Elena is at least a born scholar and not a power-hungry person who uses underhanded tactics.

“So are you really Xenon?”

“No, I’m not.”

Of course, I have no intention of revealing my secret. I can’t readily share it when we haven’t even built a proper relationship of trust yet.

“That’s too bad. Then how will you explain to that girl?”

“Hmm…”

Hearing her question, I sat on the sofa and thought deeply. Cherry would arrive by 5 PM at the latest. Orientation usually ends early.

However, Cherry firmly believes I’m Xenon. Talking in the research lab would be problematic with Elena present.

Well, based on our conversation just now, I don’t suspect she would do anything after learning my secret. Even if she did, it would likely stop at Arwen’s level.

“Well, I think it’s best to clear up the misunderstanding first. And incidentally, get an apology for pulling my hair.”

“When she arrives, go talk at the café. I’d prefer if personal conversations weren’t held in the research lab.”

“The research lab is solely a space for research, is that it?”

“Exactly right.”

That’s truly a scholar’s mindset. Actually, I was planning the same thing, so I just nodded without saying anything.

As I opened the book I had selected to read while waiting for Cherry, there was a knock at the door.

Knock- Knock- Knock-

Someone was quietly knocking on the research lab door. Since there was still plenty of time before Cherry was supposed to arrive, it must be someone else.

“Yes, I’m coming.”

I closed the book and opened the door wide.

“Who is… huh?”

“… …”

As soon as I opened the door, I saw pink hair that looked like it would smell of cherry blossoms. There’s only one person with pink hair.

“…Student Cherry?”

“Ah, hello…”

It was Cherry Blossom Roseberry. When I spoke with a puzzled expression, she bowed slightly with her characteristically lifeless voice.

Wondering if I had the time wrong, I looked at the clock in the research lab—it was exactly 3 PM. This should be when orientation is taking place on the first day.

I faced Cherry, wondering if she had skipped class to come here. She had the same dejected, completely lifeless expression as before.

“Did you skip class to come here?”

“…Yes.”

“No… even so…”

Just as I was about to scold her, I noticed she was carefully holding something in her arms.

They appeared to be ordinary papers, but they were severely damaged. Literally torn to shreds and then pieced back together with adhesive.

Yet seeing how she’s holding them, I assume they must be precious to Cherry.

“What’s that?”

“Ah. This, this is…”

When I pointed at the papers and asked, Cherry flinched dramatically. Her trembling appearance resembled a frightened squirrel.

Judging that continuing like this would just waste time, I decided to change locations.

“…Let’s go to the café for now. Professor?”

“Sure. There’s no class today anyway, so go to the café and rest afterward.”

“Thank you. Student Cherry? Can you come with me for a moment?”

“Yes…”

After getting permission from Elena, I walked alongside Cherry.

Grab-

“…Red.”

“… …”

But why has she been grabbing my hair since earlier? According to Marie and Cecilly, she wants to keep touching it because my hair is better than hers, so maybe that’s the reason.

Normally, I’d want to scold her, saying what kind of behavior is this, and that grabbing someone else’s hair is impolite. But given Cherry’s mental state, I plan to gently admonish her at the café.

In the end, Cherry ended up following me while holding onto my tied hair, and I sighed as I headed to my regular café.

Although passersby gave us strange looks, I simply ignored them. I’m used to such stares by now, so they don’t bother me anymore.

Besides, with red hair and pink hair standing out so prominently, it’s impossible not to attract attention. Let’s just accept it and move on.

“Welcome.”

“A private room, please.”

“Understood.”

After arriving at the café, I ordered coffee and entered a private room. Cherry seemed unfamiliar with cafés, hesitating before hurriedly entering.

Finally, we were alone. I looked at Cherry, who was still holding the papers to her chest.

Though she had acted impulsively earlier, she now seemed to lack the courage to take the next step, fidgeting awkwardly. She occasionally raised her lowered head to meet my eyes, but that was it.

“Your order is ready.”

“Thank you.”

As we sat in silence, the coffee I had ordered arrived. I took a sip of my sweet cappuccino while glancing at Cherry.

She was looking back and forth between the coffee in front of her and me, seemingly waiting for permission. I gestured that it was okay to drink, and only then did she slowly reach out.

Even as she reached for the coffee, she kept the papers carefully cradled against her chest.

“Is it good?”

“…Yes.”

Cherry nodded in response to my question, answering quietly. I’m glad she likes it, but we still haven’t gotten to the real conversation.

I smiled briefly, took another sip of cappuccino, and carefully set the cup down. The clinking sound echoed loudly in the silent private room.

Then, interlacing my fingers and resting my chin on them, I asked the tense Cherry:

“So, what did you want to tell me? Did you want to show me those papers?”

“…Are you really Author Xenon?”

Cutting straight to the point, Cherry raised her head and asked me.

Her characteristically dead eyes were eerie, but her overall appearance was so vibrant that it somewhat neutralized the effect.

Hearing her question, I pondered how to answer before shrugging my shoulders and playing it cool. This is our first meeting, so complete trust would be unreasonable.

“I wonder. What would you do if I were Xenon? Do you plan to inform your family?”

“Family…”

When the keyword “family” was mentioned, Cherry’s eyes grew even darker and more lifeless. Additionally, she slowly lowered her head like a puppet with cut strings.

Seeing this, I realized one thing: for Cherry, the word “family” is nothing short of a landmine.

There are quite a few nobles who dislike their own families. However, showing such an extreme reaction like Cherry’s is certainly not common.

Quickly noticing that she had family-related issues, I hastily changed the subject.

“D-don’t take it too seriously, I’m just saying it could be possible. So what would you do if I really were Xenon?”

“…Are you really?”

Fortunately, she seemed to recover somewhat as she slowly raised her head and asked. Despite evidence appearing everywhere, she couldn’t seem to convince herself.

I inwardly sighed deeply, pondering what to do.

Whatever her story is, Cherry extremely dislikes her family. That much can be inferred just from her reaction moments ago.

So the chance of her revealing my identity as Xenon to her family is extremely low. Given her mental state, she’s unlikely to speak carelessly.

But I can’t openly admit it. First, I need to determine whether she’s trustworthy or not.

“Student Cherry. You mentioned red hair in the letter, right? And you said the handwriting in the letter matched mine.”

“…Yes.”

“That could be evidence, but it’s still not enough.”

“You’re not… denying it.”

At Cherry’s quiet yet sharp observation, I simply smiled. Though I say that, I’m essentially letting her draw her own conclusions.

Having already been half-discovered, vehemently denying it would only raise more suspicion, so it’s better to leave some ambiguity.

Even if my identity is discovered, I have reliable allies by my side. I’m engaged to Marie, the daughter of the Reckyless family, and I even have a friendly relationship with Rina.

Cherry doesn’t seem like the type to carelessly spread rumors, but her family might pressure her. Judging from her condition, I can roughly gauge what kind of place the Roseberry family is.

“That’s your judgment, Student Cherry. I didn’t say anything, did I?”

“T-then…”

Seemingly convinced by my evasive answer, Cherry hurriedly fumbled about with a desperate expression. She glanced at the papers in her arms, pressed her lips tightly together, then politely held them out to me.

They were papers with tears throughout and even footprints—literally no better than rags.

I stared at the bundle of papers Cherry carefully offered, then shifted my gaze to her as if asking what this was. However, she had her head bowed deeply, making her expression unreadable.

With no choice, I accepted the papers. I hadn’t realized due to the severe damage, but they weren’t just ordinary papers but manuscript paper.

Yes, the exact manuscript paper used when I wrote the Biography of Xenon. And on that manuscript paper, written in Cherry’s characteristically warm handwriting, was a story.

[One more Red Sunset.]

What is this emotionally charged title?

Although the writing was slightly damaged due to being pieced together like a puzzle with adhesive, the title was clearly visible.

I blinked, staring at the title for a moment before turning my gaze to Cherry across from me. She still had her head deeply bowed, with both hands tucked between her thighs.

“Don’t tell me you wrote this, Student Cherry?”

Nod-

Cherry slowly nodded in response to my question. I looked surprised for a moment before shifting my gaze back to the manuscript.

It was somewhat difficult to read since it had been torn to shreds and painstakingly reassembled, but not impossible.

However, seeing the clear footprint on the first page, I could roughly guess what had happened. It must be deeply related to her family.

The act of trampling on an aspiring novelist’s manuscript not only crushes their pride but their dream itself, so it’s understandable that Cherry’s mental state would collapse.

‘I thought they were a philosophy family…’

Why would the Roseberry family pressure Cherry to the point of pushing her to the edge? With a heavy heart, I slowly read through the novel.

It began with warm, emotional sentences as the title suggested. As seen in the letter, Cherry’s uniquely sweet and warm writing style was impressive.

But above all else, one setting particularly stood out…

‘…What? It’s a regression story?’

Cherry’s work, “One more Red Sunset,” was surprisingly a regression story. A common regression tale where the female protagonist, after experiencing numerous events, returns to the past due to a specific trigger just before dying.

While it might be a common cliché in my previous life, in this world, the regression genre itself doesn’t exist. The very concept demonstrates Cherry’s extraordinary imagination.

Moreover, her emotional and warm writing style, well-suited for romance, makes the female protagonist more three-dimensional. Especially the psychological descriptions are so exquisite that I found myself entranced.

That’s not all. Befitting someone from a philosophy family, various philosophical elements are included. Clear themes that provoke deep thought enhance the characters’ individuality.

Finally, there’s the appearance and meeting with the male protagonist—the highlight of any romance novel. Although the development is slightly rushed, raising some questions, one thing is certain.

“Um… Student Cherry?”

“Y-yes?”

Cherry’s work, “One more Red Sunset”…

“Is there no next volume?”

It was definitely not a work deserving to be trampled by anyone.

“… …”

Cherry momentarily looked dumbfounded at my words. She seemed unable to distinguish whether what she heard was real or false.

To reassure her, I pointed at the manuscript and spoke with sincerity.

“This is really interesting, you know? You definitely wrote this, right?”

“… …”

“Excuse me…”

“Sob…”

Just as I was about to call her name again, tears streamed down Cherry’s pink eyes.

She was crying without blinking once, as if someone had turned on a faucet, which was slightly unsettling.

“Hic… hic…”

“… …”

Momentarily taken aback, I quietly waited for Cherry’s tears to stop.

“Thank… goodness…”

“… …”

“It wasn’t trampled… it wasn’t trampled… hic…”

Though her face was a mess from crying, Cherry’s expression was much better than before.