Chương 114: Chapter 111

"I feel like there was a better way to do this," Cal said, holding a cup in his left hand as he walked alongside Mia. She hadn't entered the shop, but after receiving unsolicited advice from Lily, he'd ordered something for his club president before joining her outside. Considering Mia was fine with the travesty that was Olivia's cooking, he picked the first thing that caught his eye, which was a simple fruit cup.

"There is," she said, sounding a touch irritated. With a book in one hand and a fork in the other, she speared a piece of fruit from the cup, lifting it to her mouth.

"Then do you want me to carry the book for you?" This was not the first time he'd asked, but evidently Mia didn't appreciate his efforts to be a gentleman because she'd ignored his previous offers. Her protectiveness of books was really excessive. It wasn't like he was going to torch the thing.

"You can be surprisingly difficult," Cal said, taking her silence as another rejection. Had anyone been observing them, they would have seen the girl give him a flat stare. Cal knew that by her standards it was a withering glare.

"That's not helping your case," Cal said, gesturing up and down her face. She could be oddly intimidating at times, but this wasn't one of those cases.

"Mean Mia." The girl averted her gaze, and while he'd usually count that as a sign he'd won the argument, there was something amiss. It hung over the both of them, and he diverted his eyes to the treeline, studying the foliage like he had an upcoming test on arboriculture. In a way, he did, but that fact felt less important by the second. Cal ran a hand through his hair, shaking off the oddness. It was a nice day for a stroll.

He could spend the entire day wandering aimlessly, but that would be grossly irresponsible of him. Not ten hours ago he'd been in the middle of a brawl between zealots and criminals. He needed to focus—he hadn't even told her about wanting to meet with Basem yet. Cal coughed, clearing his throat as he shifted his sight forward, watching her out of the corner of his eye.

"The Right showed up this morning," he said in a tone reminiscent of one commenting on the weather. From her lack of reaction, he might as well have been. Her gait went uninterrupted, and she didn't even offer a blink of surprise. It made him wonder whether she was paying attention, but he continued regardless.

"Everyone involved in the Waste incident was called in. We didn't meet with her long. The two highlights were Lily messing up her introduction and Rolland nearly losing his head." Mia's eyes darted toward him, carrying with them a trace of concern. He couldn't pin down what the cause was, and she didn't look ready to clear that up, instead opting to hold a fork out. Whether she was trying to dodge the question or not, Cal met her partway with the cup.

Soon after, he was forced to take a half step toward her, drawing closer to the girl as the bubble of complex magic surrounding them abruptly shrunk a few centimeters.

"Is that thing working?" He asked, eyeing her hair clip.

"It's been acting erratically." That accessory of hers was one of the reasons he could speak so candidly. Within its bubble, they were shielded from curious eyes and ears, allowing them to walk past other campus denizens without them being the wiser. She had initially been reluctant to use it, and he was starting to see why. The bubble had been large at the start, but as they traversed the grounds, its radius kept changing. Expanding at times, and constricting at others. He noted the latter was more common.

"No," the young woman bluntly declared. That didn't inspire much confidence and made him realize he might be on the clock here. There were a number of topics that required discretion.

"Have you…" he trailed off, growing uncomfortable. Her stare returned to him, questioning his hesitation.

"Met the Right before?" Disappointment flashed across her face, and just when he thought she'd weasel out of it by asking for another piece of fruit, she gave him a curt nod. He almost wished she would have denied it. This strayed close to a subject he tried to ignore around her.

"What's your impression of her?" he asked, his want for her opinion outweighing the cost.

"I'll likely be spending more time with her in the future." Mia's face soured, eyes flicking to the road ahead. Her expression swiftly morphed into something calculating as she mulled the query.

"Demanding," she said with a degree of severity.

"Very demanding—and strict. Cold too. Unreasonable. Old." Each statement felt hastily tacked onto the last, and Cal looked at the girl like she'd grown another head. It was the most rambling thing he'd ever heard her say. He wasn't sure how that last part was even relevant.

"She's not that old," Cal countered, defending the absent woman for some reason.

"Aside from the lock of white in her hair, she looks—" For a split second, it felt like he'd become Oracle, predicting disaster before it occurred.

"—absolutely decrepit," he finished. Mia chose now, of all times, to grow suspicious of him, staring at him through slightly narrowed eyes. Her view on the Hand appeared to have flipped from indifference to hostility, and he guessed it was a result of the older woman's actions against the prince. The bubble around them expanded a smidge, giving him some breathing room.

"Appearances and demeanor aside," Cal said with a shrug.

"Avoiding a Hand when she knows where you sleep is tricky." Cal appreciated being able to sleep again, and waking up to her standing over his bed would have him quickly revert to relying on his trance state for resting.

"Sleep elsewhere," she said blandly, gaining a certain look on her face. His instincts told him she was about to offer her assistance. It wasn't a huge leap. Mia was a considerate person, but her help could be… peculiar. He hadn't forgotten how she'd convinced Alice he was going on a club trip instead of to the Waste. With that in mind, he decided to beat her to the punch.

"No need to offer your place," he said in an amused tone.

"Worst-case scenario, I get a little thirsty." In the actual worst-case scenario, he'd be entombed in a mountain of sand that would grind him into dust. It would be suffocating, but if she thought he'd allowed himself to be trapped like that… Cal took several steps forward before realizing the bubble had stopped moving. He turned to see Mia standing there, stock still with a frozen expression. Alarm hit him, but he hadn't done anything to provoke such a—"Classroom," she said in a strangled gasp.

"I was going to suggest the classroom." Oh. Oh. It felt like the Right was standing behind him with how his throat went dry, and he reviewed what he said. Yep. Those were definitely words. If there was an 'abort' button in his brain, it was now in the process of being shattered as he frantically slammed it.

"That is another option," Cal said, trying, and probably failing, to smooth over his comments.

"Speaking of options, why don't we opt to forget the last ten seconds happened?" Head trauma had never impeded his ability to remember things in the past, but he was willing to give it another shot. Mia chose to become a mute again, pressing her lips together and resuming her stride. It was longer this time, almost like she was in a rush to get somewhere. He found himself chasing after her, closing the distance as the bubble shrunk considerably.

"Hold on, hold on," he pleaded with remorse.

"I need your help with something." She came to an abrupt stop, head jerking in his direction. There was an intensity in her eyes, but it gradually lost its edge as he held her stare. He waited a few seconds, letting both of them calm down before speaking.

"This is going to feel like it's coming out of left field, but do you know where they're keeping the diplomat from Shirai?" he asked, earning a befuddled blink.

"And if so, can you lead me there? I would like to bully him." It wasn't a small request, and a part of him hated asking her. It felt like he only ever asked for favors of her, but he needed to track down Basem, and if anyone could do it, it was—"No idea," she said, callously dashing his hopes. Astonishingly, Cal had not prepared for this contingency, and he stood there with a spectacularly dumb look on his face. Stolen story; please report.

"Try asking," she suggested, pointing at a random passerby who was oblivious to their existence.

"Him?" This was not turning out as he imagined. Cal did not dismiss Mia's proposal out of hand, but after receiving his third useless response, he had his doubts over its effectiveness. The issue was twofold. Not only was the information he was asking for very specific and confidential, but by the time the person he was asking processed the question, they had also pieced together who he was. By virtue of few deeds, many rumors, and odd connections, he was a known quantity on campus.

Usually people were content to whisper behind his back, but he discovered many were willing to attempt a quid pro quo for gossip material should he initiate contact. Naturally, Cal had a strategy to deal with these types of people. He ran away. Alice would likely complain about his violation of social niceties, but Mia had no such qualms, allowing him back into the safety of the bubble she passively watched him from. Well… maybe she wasn't exactly passive.

"Why do I feel like you're keeping a list of people I've talked to?" he asked the girl staring holes into the confused student he'd just escaped from.

"Do you know them or something?" They were chosen based on proximity, and Cal definitely didn't know any of their names. Nor did he recognize the family crests displayed on their shoulders.

"I am not, and I do not," Mia said strongly, despite not raising her voice.

"Find people less gullible." There was a note of accusation in her tone, but Cal had no idea how he was supposed to fulfill her request. His pause spoke for itself, and her eyes roamed the path ahead, flickering with annoyance.

"Anyone not looking at their phones," she clarified, being oddly forceful. Even if he wanted to do as she said, that would prove difficult. Academy students liked their phones— Right, duh.

"I have a better idea," he said, retrieving his phone and navigating to the forums.

"Yesterday I overheard people talking about him. There has to be some speculation over where he is. I just need to find it." It was the best solution he could come up with given the circumstances. He couldn't keep questioning random people without giving away his intentions, and asking a faculty member like the headmaster or deputy headmistress would come with increased scrutiny.

"No use," she said, eyeing his phone with distaste.

"It's filled with gullible people believing everything they read." Cal would not say she was wrong, but it was a strange comment for her to make. He didn't remember her ever expressing such views.

"I guess you prefer your hardcovers with citations," he said, combing through the active threads. Through sheer force of will, he forced his eyes to gloss over the inconvenient topics.

"That isn't it," Mia denied in a clipped tone, prompting him to glance up. Her attention had already strayed from the phone to the campus at large, drifting across the scenery of trees and people.

"They speak and write carelessly, taking it for granted. Words have power." There was a weight to her voice, almost as if she were speaking from experience.

"Are we still talking about trashy gossip?" he asked carefully, drawing out his words as he studied her face. There was a distant look in her eye, and he couldn't be sure if she heard him.

"Mia?" The girl blinked, and the fork slipped through her fingers as she reached for her chest. Cal took a step closer to her, catching the utensil before it hit the ground. Her arm didn't complete the motion, stopping halfway before falling by her side. She took a few shallow breaths, recomposing herself.

"I overreacted," she admitted with a small frown.

"In the library, when you were researching the Spirit, do you remember how you did it?" Yes, he did. It was on the heels of Cal realizing his untimely deaths struck at exactly midnight, and thus the culprit was likely the covenant he signed. In an effort to find out what he was dealing with, he'd scoured early academy records for the registration building and the being that called it home.

"I remember you pointing me in the right direction," he said, partly to lift her mood and partly because it was true.

"Not many things can live that long." Spirits, automatons, and demons were what he originally assumed. Now… he wasn't as sure about that assessment.

"You didn't stop when you found an answer—you kept reading," she said, her tone warming for an instant.

"I liked that." Cal fundamentally didn't know how to respond to that, and so he did not, standing quietly by her side.

"Not everyone does it," she continued, her voice sliding into frustration.

"They believe the first thing they read, and what's worse is when they're right." A pair of students passed them. They weren't doing anything remarkable, simply conversing while they traveled wherever they needed to go. It was perfectly mundane, and yet Mia tracked their every move.

"The Spirit and I," she continued, voice sliding into frustration.

"Are similar. We can listen, we can watch, but we can't touch the world like others do. It plays the fool to cope; I read." Her grip on the book tightened, and she held it tight against her chest.

"No one can change what's on the page. No one can tell the characters what to do. It's safe—fair." Comparisons to the Spirit aside, Cal had a sense of what she was referring to. He could have feigned ignorance, staying behind the wall he'd erected in his head. Instead, he put another hole into it.

"Were you told to stay out of the way?" he asked.

"By your father, or someone else?" Mia's existence was shrouded—spoken of in passing, but more as a myth than a person. He knew her upbringing must have shaped part of her nature, just as it had the others. Still, he'd always assumed she lived and acted the way she did on her own accord. The alternative possibility didn't sit well with him, forming a pit in his stomach.

"My choice," she replied with quiet firmness.

"Always." That didn't sound like a real decision on her part. Cal was well familiar with the phenomenon. It was why he was here in the first place. While he was still bitter about it, it was the best 'choice' he'd ever made.

"Even now?" he questioned. Mia's face twitched, an awkward, almost ashamed expression washing over it.

"No," she said with a brittle edge to her voice.

"Things are different now. Harder in a way. Before, I knew what I couldn't do, and I accepted it. It was… normal." Her posture had grown stiff, and he got the sense she was controlling herself carefully.

"Is this related to the kid?" Cal recalled how she'd reached out to Sebby recently, likely breaking a taboo in the process. He knew the little prince was having difficulty with it but wasn't aware Mia was in the same position.

"In part," she said in a softer voice, eyes still on the pair of students.

"There's more to it, and I don't know where it ends. I won't ever be like them, not truly, but a taste is all I ask." A breeze swept through the path, rustling the trees above. Leaves were blown their direction, but curiously, they parted before hitting either Mia or him. It was odd. Possibly magical in nature, but he hadn't sensed any, so it must have been a coincidence.

"Well," Cal began, watching as the pair ahead weren't as lucky, catching a back full of foliage.

"I'll say this much. You're definitely as mischievous as the Spirit." Mia didn't pout at the comment. Rather, the edges of her lips curved upwards in satisfaction. As if he'd praised her character. It didn't last, eyes dimming as they turned downcast.

"And as dangerous," she muttered to herself. Cal wasn't sure if he'd been meant to overhear that, but he had a solution either way. With the fork he'd rescued from falling in one hand, he stabbed the last piece of fruit in the cup and held it under her nose.

"Does a taste of fruit work?" he asked with a grin, hoping the humor would quash whatever had come over her. Mia didn't look at him, eyes locked onto the piece of fruit hanging in front of her.

"Dangerous," she repeated in an even lower voice than before, head dipping forward to claim the fruit. For a moment, Cal pictured a snapping turtle in her place. Had one been present, he still would have bet on Mia beating it.

"Very dangerous." Cal agreed.