"...Could you just call Molly from now on?"
Simon looked at her, a troubled expression on his face.
"But you’re still royalty..."
"Before my status, I am a necromancer of Kizen." She stepped forward, as if she wouldn’t back down, and placed a hand on her chest. "Please treat as a fellow Kizen student."
"W-well, if you put it that way..."
’Ahem.’ Feeling inexplicably awkward, Simon cleared his throat and said slowly, "Mo-Molly. What brings you to our club?"
"Please don’t use formal speech either!"
"Ah, alright."
At last, a bright smile blood on Molly’s face.
"Actually, I’d like to join the Student Council President’s club—’oof!"
Suddenly, an application form flew from the side and slapped onto her face.
"Stop with the theatrics and just fill that out," Sasha said from the next table, the one who had thrown the paper.
"...You!" Molly grabbed the paper, pulled it off, and snapped in anger. Then she saw Simon beside her, let out a little gasp, blushed, and slightly hid her face with the application form. "W-well, I’ll be right back after filling this out."
"Yeah, take your ti."
As if fleeing, Molly sat down at the next table, picked up a quill, and began to fill out the application. But sothing was already written in the na field.
[Applicant Na: Princess Last-In.]
"What is the aning of this!" Molly shot up from her seat, her face crimson.
Sasha snorted and turned her head away.
"What?"
"You! How long are you going to keep tornting...!"
"Quiet, first-years," Fitzgerald said, his eyes hollow.
The two girls imdiately bowed their heads.
"Our apologies," they said in unison and went back to filling out their applications.
Molly, her face still burning, drew two lines through the ‘Princess Last-In’ scribble and wrote her own na below it in a majestic script befitting a royal. ’I always get so nervous when I write.’
anwhile, Sasha moved her quill and let out a deep sigh. Having lived in the Neutral Zone as an orphan, she hadn’t perfectly learned the continental language, so the Pentamonium had drilled her on writing before her admission. A major reason was that she’d be looked down on by her peers if they discovered she couldn’t write. Adding the surna ‘Andrasil’ was for the sa reason. Still, her hard work had paid off. The thought of that Princess Last-In sneering, ’‘Oh my, there’s soone who can’t even write!’’ made her blood boil.
Having finished first, Sasha brought her application over with a sense of pride.
"Can I just leave this here?"
Fitzgerald, still staring blankly ahead, nodded. The completed application forms on the table were slightly ssy from the wind. As she was tidying them up...
’Ah.’
Sasha’s brow furrowed. ’Why is this guy here too?’
[Applicant Na: Arthur Bleman.]
Sasha placed her own application on top of his and walked over to Simon to ask what was going on.
"You an Arthur?" Simon chuckled and pointed to the side. "He stared at that for twenty minutes straight before saying he wanted to join."
Simon gestured to the Siren Chira juggling balls with its six arms.
’...La,’ Sasha thought.
’Creepy,’ Molly, who had followed to submit her application, thought the sa.
Just then, Fitzgerald’s eyes flickered as if he had read their thoughts, and the girls quickly averted their gazes.
—’Ah.’ At that mont, an announcent echoed from the club booths.
—’Announcent. This is a broadcast. The club season will end in ten minutes. All first-years, please return to your dormitories. Club mbers, please clean up your areas.’
The club season was finally over. Simon clapped his hands.
"Alright, all first-years, head back to the dorms now. We’ll be selecting mbers through a simple interview in two days based on these applications."
"Yes, senior!"
Sasha, Molly, and the other students who had applied left in a bustling crowd. Sasha waved her hand.
"See you at the interview, Big Bro Simon!"
"Wait! I told you not to call the Student Council President so rudely!"
’Haha.’ Simon smiled and waved to them both.
Toto, no longer in his female disguise, was returning with an exhausted look on his face.
"It’s finally over. Just ten more minutes... I just have to hold on for ten more minutes."
"Good work, Toto."
Fitzgerald, still in despair, adjusted his glasses.
"...Simon, you usurped my role as president in addressing the first-years."
"Ahaha, sorry. I didn’t even realize."
Fitzgerald stood up and organized the application forms. There were a whopping sixteen of them.
"Still, thanks to you and Dick, we’ve secured a lot of mbers, so I’ll forgive you. I can now face Senior Benya."
"Yeah. That’s a relief."
Over the three days of the club season, Fitzgerald and Toto had gathered zero mbers. On the final day, with Simon’s help and Dick’s consulting, they had gathered sixteen. Fitzgerald scanned through the applications.
"Three special admission students."
"Really? Aweso!" Toto’s head shot up. "Is our club going to get stronger now?"
"It certainly will be next year. And—" Fitzgerald looked up at Simon with so disapproval. "There are a lot of female students."
Simon could only offer an awkward laugh.
"No matter how much overwhelming support you have from the first-years, ’I’ am the leader of this club."
"I know, I know. President."
"...Hmph, as long as you know." Fitzgerald put down the application forms. "Let’s start cleaning up as soon as the season ends."
It was then. Soone was approaching the Mutants club booth, now empty of first-years.
’A last-minute applicant?’
Toto, who had taken off his wig, quickly put it back on. Fitzgerald adjusted his glasses and looked ahead.
Through the blowing wind, a boy with unnaturally white hair, as if it had been bleached, was approaching. The pupils of all three widened simultaneously.
The white-haired boy entered the booth. And then, with a soft slide, he placed a paper he had taken from his coat on top of the pile of application forms.
"Joining."
With only that word, he shifted his eyes to look at Simon. Simon was taken aback.
’Why... is he here?’
’Whooosh—!’
With a sudden, fierce gust of wind, the boy’s body vanished in an instant. The stunned mbers of the Mutants stared at the application form left behind.
[Applicant Na: White.]
’Announcent: As of this mont, the club season has ended. First-years are to return to their dormitories imdiately. I repeat. As of this mont....’
"W-wait a minute! Is this allowed?" Toto said, taking off his wig. "White is a second-year!"
"...There’s actually no problem," Fitzgerald said, stroking his chin, his expression stiff. "It’s rare, but there are cases where second-years without a club join a new one during the club season."
He was right. The club season wasn’t exclusively for first-years. But Simon felt unsettled. From the mont they first t in Moiran...
’—The sa departnt as him.’
...to him entering the Summoning departnt. And now, he was trying to join the Mutants club, which Simon belonged to.
An unsettling feeling stirred within him.
---
The next morning, during Martial Arts class.
"Huh?" Dick, who was stretching across from Simon, had his eyes go wide. "White applied to the Mutants club?"
"Yeah."
"See! I told you he was hiding sothing! Sothing’s weird!" irin said, stretching with Kamibarez. As she clasped her hands behind her back and bent over, the much lighter Kamibarez was lifted into the air.
"I don’t think it’s that strange, is it?" Kamibarez said once her feet were back on the ground. "White is a second-year, but he’s a transfer student, so he doesn’t have a club. It seems natural for him to apply!"
"But," irin unclasped her hands and swept back her sky-blue hair, "in Moiran, White was in the Cursology departnt, but he specifically pointed at Simon and declared he would go to the sa departnt. This ti, he deliberately followed Simon into his club. Isn’t that a little weird?"
"Hmmmm." Dick sank into thought with a serious expression. Then he snapped his fingers with an ‘Ah!’
"Oh, right. The picture is becoming clear. I get it now!"
"You idiot commoner. If you spout any more weird nonsense, I’ll kill you..."
"White was actually a girl all along."
"You moron!!" irin picked up a rock and threw it.
Dick, as if used to it, tilted his head back to dodge it.
"No, calm down and think about it. Why does White keep trying to follow Simon? That kid has a pretty face, a bit androgynous, you know? Honestly, if you just put him in a school skirt, he’d look better than irin..."
"Go die!!"
"Ah! But there’s no other explanation, is there? If you think of White as a girl, all her actions make sense! She was shy but chose the Summoning departnt, saying, ‘Please put in the sa departnt as him.’ And she mustered up the courage to choose the sa club as the guy she likes!"
"Shut up and go pick out your grave!"
While the two were fighting again, Simon was lost in thought. ’Could he be soone I knew in the past? No. I’ve lived in Leshill my whole life. If White was from Leshill, I would have recognized him.’
"Wait! Simon, I’ll give you the conclusion!" Dick rolled across the grass, dodging the rocks irin was throwing, and approached him. Lying on the ground, he pointed a finger. "Whether White is a girl or not, it’s clear he’s approaching you with so objective."
"I told you to stop with that bullshit!" irin yelled from behind, but Dick easily ignored her and continued. "If you don’t know the opponent’s objective, at least prevent them from achieving their goal."
"Hm..."
"Reject White at the Mutants club interview, Simon," Dick said, his eyes serious. "The way the adults are watching him and all... it’s certain he’s so kind of dangerous guy."
---
The day’s schedule was over. Simon, Toto, and Fitzgerald gathered in the Mutants club room for a strategy eting.
"As the ‘club president,’ I just spoke with Senior Benya," Fitzgerald announced, sitting down and adjusting his glasses.
Simon smiled faintly, while Toto wore a tense expression.
"He said that since the club room is so small, seventeen mbers is too many."
Sharing the sa thought, Simon and Toto nodded simultaneously. While getting a larger budget with more mbers was nice, mber retention and satisfaction would be important from now on, as they’d have to write performance reports.
Simon asked, "Then what was Senior Benya’s opinion?"
"Six mbers." Fitzgerald held up his fingers. "He said that six would be an appropriate number."
"That sounds reasonable."
"Of course, the third-years’ orders are absolute, but the one making the final decision is , the ‘Club President’." He raised one more finger with a serious expression. "Based on my judgnt as the club president, I’ve decided to select a final seven."
’Six or seven, what’s the difference?’ Simon gave a bitter smile inwardly but quickly nodded.
"If that’s what the president wishes, I’ll follow your lead."
"Thank you, Simon."
As if energized by those words, Fitzgerald took a vigorous sip of his tea and opened his eyes.
"And, regarding White."
At last, the topic of concern. Fitzgerald looked at Simon.
"Even I find it unsettling. He singled you out to join the Summoning Departnt, and now he’s singling you out to try and join the club."
"Um..."
"Whether we reject White or not, Simon, I will respect your decision."
It seed Fitzgerald also felt that there was sothing unusual about White. Simon closed his eyes, deep in thought, before opening his mouth.
"Alright, then let’s do this."
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