Ch. 237 Leaving No Room for Thoughts of Other Women
by AfuhfuihgsChapter 237: Leaving No Room for Thoughts of Other Women
Words are terrifying.
With three people, you can conjure a tiger out of thin air—or so the saying goes.
And in the confined society of a school, it’s only a matter of time before even the smallest rumor gets twisted.
The rumor that Sugar and Riley had fought must’ve warped into them breaking up.
“No! We never even fought in the first place!”
They’d never even dated.
To break up before even getting together—what a joke. Sugar gnawed on her straw, mentally cursing whoever spread the nonsense.
Across from her, Ianne quietly nibbled on a fry, while Leon picked up his third hamburger. Did he always eat this much?
Amid the sounds of chewing, Sugar crumpled an envelope in her grip before holding it up.
Sugar and Riley, regardless of their personalities, were undeniably striking—enough to draw eyes wherever they went. A delicate, pretty girl and a tall, handsome boy, both at the age where their looks shone brightest.
Some had been smitten by their appearances, but the two stuck together like glue, warding off admirers with an ironclad front.
Then the rumor spread that they’d broken up.
The love-starved hyenas must’ve perked up instantly.
“Well… timing’s everything. It’s September, after all. And now this nonsense is floating around…”
Ianne spoke cautiously, as if trying to calm Sugar’s visible irritation.
If May was the month of family, September was the month of love—thanks to its fourth week.
Dahlia Week.
Or Dahlia’s Week.
A period named after the Holy Mother Dahlia. Though not an official holiday, it overflowed with romance.
Legend said Saint Gabriel spent seven days proposing to Dahlia with flowers bearing her name. She, humbled by his devotion, refused at first, only accepting his confession on the final day.
A saint who loved an ordinary woman sincerely, and Dahlia, who remained humble despite his affection—a tale that revealed their noble hearts.
Perhaps because of this, in this world, a man’s earnest proposal was seen as the height of romance. The love stories of Zenrock, a port city, shared this sentiment, though the reality was less glamorous.
By now, the fourth week of September had cemented itself as Confession Week—akin to Valentine’s Day in another life. Mostly men confessed to women, but the reverse wasn’t rare either.
But why me?!
Three weeks remained, yet people were already jumping the gun!
Reading Sugar’s expression, Ianne cleared her throat.
“They’re just testing the waters… You’re obviously popular, so they’re getting a head start. By Dahlia Week, it’ll be too late.”
“Who’d even say yes?”
Sugar already had someone she liked. Her mind was too full of him to entertain others’ confessions. She was busy planning her confession—no room for distractions.
“Sadly, people don’t know about your… persistent affection.”
At that, Leon—now on his fourth burger—side-eyed Ianne before resuming his meal.
Sugar and Riley, seated side by side, glanced at each other, then away.
“…”
“…”
Both were stuck in the same awkward limbo: wanting to be mad at the other, knowing they had no right to be, yet burning with jealousy—while also unable to speak up because they, too, had received love letters.
“Anyway. Don’t resent each other. You two never cared about others anyway. They’re like ants on the roadside.”
“…You don’t get it. If Leon got confessed to by another girl, could you say the same?”
Sugar glared. It wasn’t that easy. You’ve never been in this position.
Ianne’s response was smooth, unhurried.
“Then don’t give them room to think of other women.”
…Wow.
She’s on another level.
Sugar’s sharp gaze melted into awe—like a rabbit envying a soaring hawk.
“Besides, we’re different from you two… Heh. Stability changes things.”
Ianne stroked her own hand languidly, exuding the poise of a mature woman.
Lately, her femininity had sharpened, pheromones overwhelming even through her male disguise.
Right. Of course.
They’re dating.
They even live together.
No wonder Ianne could afford such composure.
I’m so jealous I could die.
With equal parts admiration and envy, Sugar stood. Time to clean up and leave.
“Huh? Leaving already?”
“Yeah. Meeting someone during lunch.”
“…Who?”
As Sugar and Ianne exchanged words, Riley’s voice cut in, oddly dark.
Sugar smirked.
Well?
You said to leave no room for thoughts of other women, right?
“A guy.”
With that clipped answer, she tossed her trash and strode out.
***************
“Hello! First time seeing you since school started.”
“Perfect timing.”
Not a lie.
She’d dropped by Professor Trace’s office to chat. He handed her something—
Voice-Orb (Recording Sphere)
A sphere with recording capabilities. Sugar had sent a letter to Louveci, and this was her reply. Since Louveci could distinguish people but couldn’t read handwriting, they’d agreed to exchange voice messages instead.
“Listen to this in your room. I haven’t heard the contents, so don’t worry.”
“I wouldn’t worry if it’s you, Professor.”
They’d spent enough time together for her to know—his lips were sealed tighter than a vault. Ah, now that he has his own secrets, he’s even less likely to spill anything carelessly.
“Still… you seem unusually grim. Is it because of the rumors?”
“You’ve heard them too, Professor?”
“They spread like wildfire the moment you step into the dining hall. You two are the school’s most infamous pair. So, did you really fight? Break up?”
“…We didn’t fight, and we’re not even dating. But those idiots have started sending us confession letters.”
“Hah…”
Trace let out a dry chuckle.
“Professor, you look… oddly cheerful.”
“Do I?”
“Yes. You’re usually so expressionless. Must be nice having someone waiting for you at home.”
“Your phrasing is grating. It’s not nice. Just… strange. Like sheltering a magical beast you know you shouldn’t keep.”
“At least it’s not bad.”
“Perhaps… Well, every September used to make me nauseous. This year’s different, though.”
“Huh? Why?”
Did he get a forced confession or something?
When she asked, Trace glanced at the wall clock.
“Do you have time now?”
“Plenty until your next lecture.”
“Then… shall I tell you about the heretic woman hiding in my home? The one I met this season, and the one who abandoned everything and left during it?”
Oh.
I’ve always wondered about this.
Heart pounding, Sugar settled at the table as a teacup floated toward her.
“I knew she was a heretic—yet I hid her instead of reporting her. Me, of all people. Pathetic. I thought I was special to her. That sharing her secret bound us together…”
His words were disjointed, as if he’d never planned to speak them aloud. Even he seemed unsure why he was confessing now.
“I was a student in Steele, her apprentice. After lectures, I’d visit her lab on Sky Island for more lessons. Nonsensical, incomprehensible things, mostly. She never taught me the magic-concealment techniques I’d wanted. But… it wasn’t unpleasant.”
“…”
“I realized she was a heretic gradually. Not through some dramatic confession. Her mannerisms, her disdain for the Saint’s Church—it was obvious. Strangely, she never hid it around me. So I asked her outright: Are you a heretic?
‘Yes, I am,’ she said.
‘Will you report me?’
I answered, ‘No.’
The thought never crossed my mind.”
His tone was flat, yet Sugar sensed something tender beneath.
“Then… September came. Nearly a year since we’d met. Dahlia Week painted the world in pink, and even I wasn’t immune. No—wait. It wasn’t romance. I just wanted my teacher to step into the light.”
He paused, exhaled, and continued.
“I told her, Forget everything. Abandon it all. Stay with me.”
Sugar’s eyes widened.
“Professor… You were a total romantic!”
“I repeat: I was guiding her as her student, as a believer in the Church. That it was the fourth week of September meant nothing. What significance could that hold for a heretic who despised saints?”
“If you say so.”
Fidgeting with her fingers, Sugar listened as Trace went on.
“I thought… we understood each other. More than she did with her cult. She often confided in me about them. The woman who kept walls up around others seemed at ease with me.”
“…”
“When I made my plea, she seemed conflicted. Give me time, she said. Wait for me.”
“But… Louveci is…”
As Sugar trailed off, Trace lowered his gaze.
The crucial part was coming.
Forget everything. Abandon it all.
A bright future, a peaceful life—that suits you.
Come with me, Teacher.
I’ll be your eyes.
What expression had she worn when he’d said that?
A smile? A frown? He couldn’t recall.
“…Give me time. Just a little longer to think.”
He’d believed her without doubt. Assumed she was wavering, that she’d reach for the serene future of a Sky Island scholar.
What arrogant folly.
The memory burned clearer than the flames:
The last day of Dahlia Week.
Their final day.
He’d stared, numb, as her lab was swallowed by fire.
The sight of their shared memories turning to ash was grotesquely beautiful—so mesmerizing he couldn’t look away. A scene seared into his mind, eternal.
She refused his offer.
Not with words.
I never belonged here to begin with.
Every trace of her as a researcher, as a teacher, was reduced to ashes—leaving only the apostle of heresy behind.
“Why… like this…?”
When he called out to her, standing tall and untouchable in the flames, she answered as if it were nothing:
“Trace. Train your eyes to see through things. Don’t believe only what’s visible.”
Just like when they’d first met—her flawless magic concealment.
And that serpentine smile.
“What good are you if you can’t see further than me?”
The playful taunt carved into his chest. Her unchanged demeanor hurt more than any defiance.
He wanted to demand answers. Why reject me like this? Was all of this—us—so worthless you’d burn it? Were you just another irredeemable heretic after all?
Did you ever truly see me as your student?
But she vanished before he could speak. As if denying him even a fragment of dialogue. She threw her sightless body through the window without hesitation.
Just forget me—
The distant whisper clung to him, a curse that haunted him for decades.
…
…
…
When the story ended, Sugar, who’d listened in silence, finally spoke.
“Wow. You’re both ruthless.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re the worst. Chasing a woman for decades because you couldn’t forget her.”
“Your phrasing has been grating from the start.”
“Have you two even talked properly?”
“We don’t exchange many words.”
“I’ve learned recently—painfully—how important communication is.”
Painfully was an understatement.
Though someone else had likely suffered far more than her.
“I hope you both figure it out.”
“…”
“Thanks for sharing. I’ll head out now.”
“…Go on.”
Sugar rose from her chair. Trace’s farewell was distant, his mind elsewhere. When she opened the door—
Riley stood in the hallway, arms crossed and leaning against the wall, his expression stormy.
She stuck her tongue out at him.
Translator Note
eheheheheeheheheehe if you are at all in the discord server you may have seen me hoping for Trace and Louveci to get together too… ehehehe they would be cute too.. so I am very happy to see this show that it may happen!!!
LegoMyEggo
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