Damn Academy - Chapter 67

[Episode 67] The Blood-stained Entrance Ceremony (2)

Upon a closer look, it was clear. This girl’s hair was perfectly white, as if all pigment had been leached out with chemicals—a stark difference from the silvery hair locked in my memory.

“…Excuse me.”

“Ahh! What the!”

Trisha spun around in shock, still holding the kitchen knife.

“….”

Recognizing me, she was clearly taken aback.

“Don’t you know how to knock?”

I was just as surprised by Trisha’s appearance. She looked nothing like the short-haired girl I remembered.

“I did knock…”

Scanning me up and down, Trisha raised her knife defensively as if facing a mugger.

“…What made you slither back in here?”

“It’s my dormitory too, isn’t it?”

Thinking about it, I was annoyed. She had taken over my dormitory, after all.

“So why did you come back, after avoiding talking to me like the plague?”

“Professor Ella said she’d reward me if I got along with you.”

In truth, the scenery of the dormitory made me a bit worried about Trisha.

But I found it far easier to be a greedy jerk than to awkwardly pretend to be nice.

“…”

After pondering my words, Trisha relaxed slightly from her defensive posture.

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“I appreciate the honesty.”

Yet perhaps changing her mind again, she aimed the knife tip threateningly at me.

“…But that’s annoying. If you get a reward, I want half.”

Emotional swings. Got to remember that.

“Depends on what you do.”

“That’s funny.”

Trisha rolled her eyes before speaking again.

“So… you’re planning to crawl back in here to live?”

I nodded.

She continued in a terse tone.

“Did you think you’d have it your way just like that? Listen up, you’re still not a member of this dormitory.”

“…What?”

Trisha cried out adamantly.

“You haven’t been through the inauguration, have you? The inauguration!”
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The inauguration…?

I braced for some nonsensical excuse, but it turned out quite anticlimactic.

“Believe it or not, there are traditions here.”

Traditions in a dormitory that’s only been around for a few months.

“Do I really have to do this?”

“Obviously! This is a proper dormitory, after all!”

She seemed almost too eager to insist. It was understandable – Trisha had been trapped here, so she probably hadn’t experienced a real inauguration ceremony.

“And what is this inauguration ceremony?”

“…You have to eat a cookie that I made.”

“All right, I’ll eat it.”

As I made to grab one, she brandished her knife at me and shouted.

“Stay put!”

She was almost menacing, like a robber in the middle of a hostage crisis.

Trisha fixed me with her gaze and the knife’s tip as she waved her hand behind her spontaneously. Reaching onto the kitchen table set with a silver tray, she fished out a cookie.

“Is that what you were making? Cookies?”

“Yeah.”

“Why do you need a kitchen knife to make cookies?”

A knife wasn’t necessary for making cookies. I had baked them before, I knew.

Stung by my pointed question, Trisha’s pupils flickered slightly.

“…Be quiet. I was using it to shape them.”

She swallowed hard and approached me cautiously, then lifted the mask off my face.

Recoiling a step back upon seeing my face, she exclaimed,

“You scared me.”

“…”

She scrutinized my face closely, then said,

“Up close, you really look unpleasant. Since you’ve seen my true self and it annoys me, you should go maskless here, too.”

“…….”

“Get it? Then open up now.”

Trisha crammed a strangely shaped cookie into my mouth and held it there with her thin hand to prevent me from spitting it out.

“Chew.”

As soon as I chewed, I understood why she’d held my mouth shut. The dough was undercooked, the taste of raw flour was palpable, and I even crunched on a lump of sugar. From time to time, a salty flavor came through. She couldn’t have confused salt for sugar, could she?

I pretended to chew for a moment and then faked swallowing. Upon seeing this, Trisha slowly removed her hand from my mouth and timidly asked,

“How does it… taste…?”

Then I immediately ran to the trash bin and spat out the cookie. That was my reply.

Trisha saw this and shouted in protest.

“Hey!!”

After wiping the doughy mess from my front teeth, I picked up the cookie recipe on the kitchen table.

Trisha was greatly startled.

“What are you looking at!”

There was no anomaly in the recipe. But considering the dreadful taste that invaded my mouth, she had clearly never cooked in her life.
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“Do you refuse to listen to anyone? Even to Professor Silveryn?”

“No, the professor never forced anything unhealthy on me.”

“What… you’re saying my cookies are bad for health?”

“If you’re not sure, why don’t you try one?”

Trisha hesitated for a moment as if she had been stung.

“…Why should I?”
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“Fine. I’ll feed you. Do you not realize you’re not a freshman? The inauguration is meant for all newcomers.”

“What, what nonsense are you spouting?”

Trisha inched backward step by step.

I pulled out a wooden sword and hurled it at her feet. The sword transformed into a sapling that began to bind Trisha’s body. She screamed in startled anger.

“Ah! You, you’re crazy, you freak!”

As Trisha cursed and writhed, her efforts were futile.

I picked up a cookie and approached her. She clenched her mouth shut, refusing to eat.

I grabbed her cheeks, forcing her mouth open, and shoved the cookie in.

Trisha’s mouth was sealed by my command as I said,

“Swallow.”

She glared at me with eyes that screamed of humiliation and indignation. After a few chews full of distress, she closed her eyes in agony and swallowed the cookie.

After witnessing her compliance, I released her restraints, and Trisha spoke up.

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“…I really hate you.”

“I hate you too.”

“You’re so annoying. I super hate you.”

The repetition of dislike agitated me, irritation surging unexpectedly.

Submerged emotions uncontrollably spilled out.

“I hate you too. Especially your hair, washed out like it’s been drained of all color.”

An immediate chill subdued the atmosphere.

As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized my monumental error.

Trisha’s words were merely words; they harbored no actual malice or hatred.

But my words were laden with genuine emotion.

Trisha’s pupils dilated, her keen senses accurately detecting my emotional state.

We glared at each other in silence for a long time. Trisha’s expression gradually twisted.

“…Why are you so hostile even when I’m trying to be nice? You weren’t like that with Cecil… Why do you act this way with me? Why? Why? I really hate you.”

“….”

Trisha kept staring at me with a face full of sorrow and gradually, tears began to well up in her eyes.

I had to admit it. I had been uncharacteristically aggressive. I had come here intending to get along with Trisha, but now everything was a confusing mess.

No matter her special origins, her emotions were likely as those of any other seventeen-year-old girl. I had said something I shouldn’t have, and now I had wounded her fragile heart.

Without another word, Trisha opened the door and left the kitchen.

I thought I had wiped it all clean, but deep down in my heart, an ugly twisted scar still remained.

***

I knocked on Trisha’s door holding a silver tray.

As expected, there was no answer.

I knocked again, but the result was the same.

After waiting at the door for a while, I finally spoke up.

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“I’m coming in.”

After taking a deep breath, I opened the door and entered her room.

Trisha was lying in bed with the duvet pulled over her head, sobbing quietly.

“Leave.”

“Let’s talk.”

“I don’t need to.”

Slowly, I approached her. I placed the silver tray on the bedside table next to her. On the tray were cookies I had baked myself, wafting with steam.

“I baked some cookies… do you want to try?”

“Get out.”

I pulled a chair next to the bed and sat down.

“I’ll wait here until we talk.”

“….”

“All night if I have to.”

“Leave.”

“….”

“Leave. Sniffle, any moment now, my destined partner will show up. That man will wield a holy sword, be incredibly strong and handsome, much better than you, sniffle. When he arrives, I’m going to make him kick you out. And I really hate the herbal smell coming from you, it’s awful.”

“Okay, I get it, so let’s just talk.”

“‘Awfully hate,’ what is there to talk about with someone you, sniffle, detest?”

“…I didn’t mean those words.”
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“Don’t joke with me.”

“Your hair… it’s truly beautiful. Bewitchingly so, meriting a gaze. That’s my honest feeling.”

Soothing an upset woman requires saying whatever it takes, whether it’s heartfelt or concocted.

“…”

“And it suits you extremely well. It seemed to me you know that. I thought even if I belittled it with my careless words, you wouldn’t be bothered… so I just blurted them out.”

Staying like this, even my own emotions were jumping around. I was applying the same antics I had once used to placate Liza with Trisha.

Underneath the duvet, Trisha remained still for some time.

And perhaps my first-aid had taken effect as she slowly lowered the duvet to reveal her face.

“It’s not a lie…”

“Yes.”
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“Since you’re being honest, I forgive you.”

I exhaled a slight breath of relief.

“Good.”

Trisha is a beautiful girl. But not the kind of beauty that incites lust with sensuality; it’s of a purity and clarity that feels desperately needed to be protected.

The reason I felt so conflicted about Trisha is that in the memories of the past, I failed to protect that beauty.

I failed to protect her from a corrupt family and she was cast down the cliff. No matter how much I covered it up, the scar on my soul was as clear as if seared with a branding iron.

It still hurt tremendously, but thanks to Trisha, I was at least able to confront that scar head-on. For that, I felt grateful to Trisha.

“…Give me the cookie. Let’s see how well you did.”

Thankfully, her anger seemed to have subsided considerable. Emotional volatility can sometimes be an advantage.

“It’s by your side.”

“Feeding is a dorm tradition.”

“….”

Perhaps it’s right for me to yield this time.

I picked up a star-shaped cookie and placed it into Trisha’s mouth. She bit into it and chewed thoughtfully for a while, then spoke with a pout.

“…How did you make this?”

Fortunately, she seemed to like the taste.

“I followed the recipe that was there.”

“Yeah, well, I couldn’t get it right no matter what I did, but you’re obviously very skillful. Good for you. How did you shape them?”

“You twist a wire to cut the dough. I can make you a mold if you want.”

“Wire, there was wire. Right, not bad.”

“Yes.”

“…Teach me how to make cookies later.”

“…Sure.”

If I interpreted her words, it meant she had softened her heart, and she was willing to get along with me again. I guess I could finally take a breather now.

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“And… I’m never going to kick you out, and I don’t hate the herbal scent from your body. It was just something I said.”

“I know.”

I placed another cookie on her lips. She accepted it naturally like a puppy might.

After reconciling, Trisha, perhaps finding the aftermath awkward, turned her gaze away from me, nibbling on the cookie and spoke.

“But it is true that you smell of herbs. It isn’t unpleasant, like a hint of herbs, and the scent is very faint, but a truly sensitive person might notice it. Just thought you should know.”
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“Alright… thanks.”

I feel like now I can actually get along with Trisha. It’s just a feeling.

***

Sion didn’t rise from her seat until the sun had completely set, and this day brought no rewards.

A maid from Witthrush Hall, who had been watching her all day, approached her.

“Miss, is there anything you need or are looking for?”

It made sense for her to ask, given Sion had been sitting there all day.

Sion hesitated for a moment before speaking.

“No, rather than that… Before I came, didn’t someone else used to sit on this sofa?”

“…Pardon?”

Sion asked the maid casually.

“It was probably someone with auburn hair, umm… a man, I presume? I just wondered if I didn’t take his place.”

The maid looked at Sion and then smiled faintly.

“No, recently the only person who’s been sitting there is you, Miss.”

“….”

“Is there anything else you need?”

“No, I’ll be leaving now. The sofa is really comfortable and nice.”

Stretching leisurely, Sion headed for the stairs.

Mumbling to herself as she ascended, she thought it odd.

“I was sure, absolutely sure the scent was the same…”