Chapter 93

Chapter 93

From Cosmic Rascal to Professor.

Episode 93: Chasing After You (3).

Sometimes, it happens just like that—like a film suddenly cutting to black.

Zelnya couldn’t remember why she had fallen asleep in the classroom. Her first realization upon waking was the familiar sensation of being carried on someone’s back.

“Aaagh!” Zelnya bit down hard on Aidel’s back.

“Ouch! You’re awake?”

“Put me down.”

“What? You want me to put you down here?”

“Do I need to repeat myself, or what?”

Despite Zelnya’s protests, Aidel continued briskly towards their destination. By the time they reached the infirmary, his shoulder bore nearly a dozen bite marks.

Tiabel, the school nurse, clucked her tongue as she removed the thermometer. “39 degrees. That’s a high fever.”

This wasn’t a condition that could be managed with mere medicine. Fortunately, holding the position of health teacher at Stellarium Academia required more than ordinary qualifications, and the facilities were on par with those of advanced hospitals. Tiabel expertly set up the IV.

“Your body is completely worn out. Studying is important, but you need to rest.”

“But…”

“No buts. Rest for now,” Tiabel insisted, her grin sly as she leaned closer.

“Yes, yes.”

“That’s better. You’re a good kid.”

Next, Tiabel turned her attention to Aidel. Although the bite had not pierced his clothes, it left superficial wounds and several bruises.

“My goodness, who did this to you?”

“I… I don’t really know. I just ended up with these wounds…”

Even in his weakened state, Aidel felt a defensive edge in his voice, though he couldn’t pinpoint the reason.

Suddenly, a gust of wind howled, causing the window to rattle ominously.

The temperature inside the infirmary was uncomfortably low. Despite having taken medicine, a chill that induced shivers and sneezes persisted.

“Why has the temperature suddenly dropped like this?” Tiabel muttered, sucking on an unlit tobacco leaf as if it were candy.

Zelnya, still reeling from a series of unfortunate events, chimed in weakly, “Could it be that a Maxwell Outer God has entered? cough, cough.”

“An interesting hypothesis, but unlikely. Haven’t the scientists just repaired the Ether Belt?” Tiabel turned to Aidel, his eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity and approval—a look that even the infirmary teacher couldn’t help but respect.

Zelnya envied that look. She sighed and closed her eyes, feeling utterly exhausted. It seemed like she had caught more than just a cold—she felt completely drained.

“No, sir. Zelnya might be onto something,” Aidel interjected, breaking his contemplative silence. “If it’s the work of an Outer God that’s already breached the belt, then it’s not entirely out of the question.”

Tiabel nodded, considering this new angle. “Yes, that could indeed be possible.”

Zelnya couldn’t help but chuckle softly, a hint of pride in her voice. It seemed her wild guess might have some truth to it after all.

That night, Aidel took meticulous care of Zelnya. Even after the infirmary teacher departed well past midnight, he remained by her side, immersed in a book. Sleep eluded him, his mind clouded with concern for her.

“Why are you even here?” Zelnya asked.

“If something happens to you at night, there won’t be anyone else to help,” Aidel replied.

She coughed, a wry smile flickering across her face. “How noble. What do you think you are, my guardian?”

Despite her sharp words, her heart fluttered with a mix of joy and the worsening symptoms of her arrhythmia. Life, she mused bitterly, was relentlessly challenging.

As the night deepened, the chill in the air sharpened. The blanket alone was insufficient. Aidel, sensing her discomfort, asked Sonia to bring an additional blanket and a hot pack. Without asking, he also took Zelnya’s scarf, damp with sweat.

“Ah, no. That’s…!” she protested weakly.

“I’ve already seen it, haven’t I?” Aidel said, referring to the unsightly artificial Constellation pattern—like a barcode—on the nape of her neck. It was a mark of shame, one she had hidden from everyone but her parents. She wanted to snatch the scarf back, but her body was too weak to protest. Gently, Aidel helped Zelnya sit up and began to dab away the sweat from her forehead.

“Cough, seriously, cough, what a sight,” she muttered, embarrassed.

“What is?”

“Why are you doing all this for me?”

Aidel chuckled softly. “Shouldn’t I be?”

Zelnya found herself at a loss for words.

“Young master, I’ve brought a blanket and a hot pack for Miss Adelwein. I also made some ginger tea, which is good for a sore throat,” Sonia announced.

“Thank you, Sonia.”

“It’s no trouble at all. I put the tea in a tumbler so it stays warm longer.”

Zelnya gratefully sipped the ginger tea from a small cup. The spicy sweetness seemed to echo her current predicament—physically drained but mentally at peace. What kind of feeling is this?

“Zelnya, here, take this,” Aidel said as he removed his black scarf and placed it around her shoulders. Though it was smaller than her own scarf, its thick fabric offered more warmth.

“Young Master, I knitted that scarf for you…”

“I know, but let’s let her use it for now.”

“…Understood,” Sonia replied, her fingers nervously clutching her skirt as she bowed slightly.

It seems even a tin can could have a heart!

“I’ll be back shortly; I need to pick up my assignment.”

Sonia shot Zelnya a sharp glance, a delayed click of disapproval. What was that about?

Feeling a mischievous urge, Zelnya decided to tease Sonia a bit. She waited until he stepped away to the bathroom, then called out in a raspy voice.

“Hey.”

“What is it?” Sonia responded, turning around.

Zelnya, enveloped in the scent of Aidel’s scarf, deeply inhaled as if savoring the fragrance of flowers. Sonia watched, her eyes wide with astonishment.

“What are you doing right now…?” Sonia’s voice was tinged with disbelief.

“The material is nice. I think it would be good if I bought this.”

“No, you can’t. The young master cherishes it.”

“What a coincidence. I want to cherish this, too.”

She genuinely liked it. Initially, she had thought it might smell unpleasant, but the scent on the scarf was unexpectedly addictive. She buried half of her face in the fabric, deeply inhaling as if it were a drug. Unable to contain herself any longer, Sonia stood up abruptly.

“What you’re doing is no different from a pervert. Give it back.”

“I’m a patient.”

“At the very least, don’t misuse the young master’s belongings.”

“No, cough. Why are you beating around the bush? How much is this? I’ll buy it.”

“It’s not for sale!”

“Where in the world is there an item that can’t be sold?”

She tightened the scarf around her neck to better inhale the scent. The aroma filled her lungs, melting into each alveolus like snow.

“The scarf you made is amazing.” Zelnya, having just delivered her so-called ‘winning words,’ smiled victoriously. In such psychological battles, the one who shows emotional agitation first usually loses.

Sonia approached with wide eyes. “Hey.”

Her eye color shifted dramatically from white to a deep, purgatory blue.

“It’s better if you take it easy, human.”

“Wow, scary.”

It was somewhat unsettling when the one who had been speaking politely a moment ago approached with a sharp expression. But after all, she was just an android. An android wouldn’t hit a person, right?

Fortunately, the tension was broken by the sound of footsteps approaching from outside.

“I’m back. Sonia, why are you standing there like that?”

“…I was just adjusting Miss Adelwein’s posture.”

“If it’s that, I can do it.”

As Aidel bowed his head, slightly creaking as he moved, Zelnya seized the moment to flash Sonia a spiteful and confident smile.

The next day, Zelnya showed signs of improvement. She wasn’t fully recovered, but she managed to walk a bit and could even hold a pen. Despite her subsiding symptoms, Aidel continued to fuss over her like a devoted servant.

“Why are you doing all this?” she asked, echoing her question from the day before, only to receive the same response: a gentle smile.

“Take a sick leave and rest today as well.”

“Um, about school…”

“Rest.”

“No, I mean, maybe I should go to the dormitory and…”

“Rest here.”

Teacher Tiabel’s insistence left her with no room to argue. After changing her IV for the fourth time, Aidel arrived at sunset, his arms laden with various items.

“This is the notebook summarizing today’s class. Here are some supplementary materials, and I’ve filled in the blanks for you. Ah, and these are the math and Korean homework assignments due next week. I’ve also brought the announcements from today’s closing session.”

The deluge of information was overwhelming. Zelnya felt a mix of gratitude and confusion as she tried to process everything. Aidel’s actions were paradoxical, akin to leaving a fish in the care of a cat. While his help was beneficial to her, it seemed a loss for him. She knew she could always manipulate Aidel—

—Know humility, mortal.

Zelyna groaned, clutching her throbbing head.

“Let’s talk later. I’ll handle it myself.”

“Yeah, discussing studies is probably the last thing you want when you’re feeling ill. Sorry, just try to rest.”

“That’s not it…” The word ‘thank you’ lodged in her throat, unspoken. She was afraid that once she said it, she would never be able to go back to who she was before.

“Health teacher, Zelnya seems off today.”

“Maybe the cold’s messed with her brain?”

Her resolve waned. Enough of this. Bowing down to others? Such actions were beneath the Adelwein lineage, the most esteemed family across the cosmos.

“Um, cough, could you pass me the career survey?”

“Of course, miss.” Aidel handed over the document with a mischievous smile.

Name: Zelnya von Adelwein. Desired career: Doctor. Chosen major: Pre-med. Special skills: None listed because I excel at everything.

Yet, there was more to it…

“This is ludicrous, isn’t it? To confine all my dreams and goals to this insignificant sheet of paper. It’s preposterous, cough.”

“Are you saying you have nothing else to add?”

“That’s not the case.”

“Then you should complete it. It’s due next week.”

“Sigh.”

“Rustila and Ceti have already submitted theirs.”

“…”

“I’ve turned mine in as well.”

“Give me the pen.”

With a firm hand, Zelnya started to inscribe the first few words, each one meticulously formed.

Q. Why do you want to become a doctor?

A. It’s a lucrative career that also builds a solid reputation. The entrance scores for the medical department are consistently the highest of all fields. Being accepted into the Stellarium pre-med program is a testament to being top of your class.

“That’s quite frank.”

“Shut up.”

Completing one application made the next seem less daunting, but this assumption was profoundly mistaken.

Q. Do you have specific goals you want to achieve?

She hesitated. Weren’t treating patients and having stable meals enough of a goal? However, she knew such a response would likely summon her to the faculty office. For now, she simply wrote:

A. Next.

Q. Write down one person who helped shape your career path when you were young, and describe how they influenced you.

A. Next.

Q. Do you have values you consider important, and have you made efforts to uphold them?

A. Next.

Q. Consider how this value system might influence your ability to achieve your career aspirations.

A. Next.

It was peculiar. The deeper she delved into the questionnaire, the more impossible the questions seemed. Her thoughts were muddled, making even the simplest survey questions seem like Herculean tasks. Her mind whirled relentlessly.

“This can’t be happening.”

Zelnya had prepared extensively for the essay. She had mastered the structure, chosen her words carefully, and selected a style befitting the time and place. Private tutoring, academies—she had leveraged every resource available.

“Then how…?” Why couldn’t she solve these problems? Had her efforts all been in vain? Had she studied half-heartedly? Neglected her swordsmanship?

Holding her head, Zelnya complained of dizziness. It made little sense—why had she delved so deeply into swordsmanship when her goal was to become a doctor? Why bother writing aphorisms and reciting haikus if she wasn’t aiming to be a writer? Just because they were tested in school exams? Probably.

“No.” That couldn’t be the whole truth.

A deep heat rose from her heart.

“Zelnya.”

“…”

“Why are you crying over this?”

“…Shut up.”

Zelnya put down her pen and lay back down. Aidel sighed and opened a thesis. She realized she had never really immersed herself in medical books before. But Aidel? He seemed to revel in his studies even now.

“Is it fun?” Zelnya asked softly.

“Yeah.”

“Good for you. I’m envious.”

Her own words surprised her. She had never envied anyone in her life, or so she thought. Before she could censor herself, her true feelings had slipped out. Embarrassed by the realization, she hastily covered her nose and mouth with her scarf.

Aidel chuckled and set aside his paper. “Are you envious?”

“…”

“Will you come to graduate school?”

It was then that Zelnya recalled the advice from the Incarnate. To be born with innate talent and yet choose to submit, to bow willingly—perhaps that was the essence of humility.