The Academy's Terminally Ill Side Character Chapter 322 322: Late Night Encounter [3]

In the original story, Leona's androphobia at this point was far worse.

Thanks to Ryen, she wouldn't have even considered coming on this trip. And even if she sohow had, she absolutely wouldn't have taken the reckless gamble of showering in the middle of the night.

But because of my influence, her fear of n had loosened—just a little—and so had her guard.

The defenses she had wrapped around herself like tight bandages had started to unravel.

Of course, it wasn't as if I had been a bad influence.

If I tried to fra it positively, she had simply beco more honest with herself. Less bottled up. Less suffocated by her own anxiety.

And if this kept going, the tendency she had in the original story—to act alone, to isolate herself, to run headfirst into danger—would weaken. Her connections with her companions would grow stronger instead.

But…

Right now, as she stood there, face red, eyes shaking, forcing out words that cornered no matter how I answered—

It was becoming painfully clear that every action had consequences.

Even the good ones.

Above all else, her worries would lessen.

The fact that she wanted to express herself as a woman was sothing often seen in novels.

But in this world—no longer just a story, but harsh reality—those kinds of insecurities beca far heavier, far more personal.

She couldn't speak about them to anyone. Not honestly, at least.

I made up my mind.

"Beautiful."

I hadn't lied.

Even if they were slightly smaller than Professor Lena's, Leona's chest clearly had room to grow, and her body—finely trained from childhood without any excess fat or unnecessary muscle—was undeniably attractive.

But even if it was true, saying it out loud was still unbelievably embarrassing!

"H-huh…?"

"I said they're beautiful."

I forced the words out, trying not to trip over them.

"Beautiful enough that I… wouldn't mind seeing them again. Is that good enough for you?"

I tried to sound composed, but my face was definitely burning.

How did protagonists in novels say these things so casually?

Did they have no sha?

Were they actually insane?

"Hey."

…What now?

Seriously, what? Why?

Leona, we're done here. I'm exhausted.

"Say it one more ti."

Her voice carried this strange excitent, like she genuinely wouldn't believe it unless I repeated myself.

It felt less like she wanted praise and more like she needed sothing to steady her own uneasy heart.

"…Beautiful."

I said it again, swallowing down the embarrassnt that kept crawling up my throat.

Why did people in this world like hearing things twice so much?

"Beautiful enough that I regret not seeing your face properly."

"…Really? Thanks. Did I keep you too long?"

So you did know, huh?

"No. I was just going to get so water."

"Still… it must've been scary. A senior you've never t suddenly shows up in the middle of the night asking if she's beautiful.

If you were the type to scare easily, you might've thought I was a ghost. Sorry."

Yes, Leona.

It's fine.

It's fine because you know you should be sorry.

But it would've been even better if you hadn't done it in the first place.

Let's not do this again next ti, okay? Promise?

"…Fine. If you're that sorry, buy a al next ti."

"Huh? You said you didn't even see my face. How are you going to know who I am?"

"…I'll leave that to your conscience, Senior."

"Conscience?"

Leona gave a soft laugh, brushing past with that familiar mix of mischief and sincerity.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll buy you a al—though I have no idea when. But definitely in this form again."

—Yes, I'll say it again. I don't know when, but definitely in this form.

I froze.

Wait.

Weren't those the exact words she said in the original novel?

The mont when Leona, half out of her mind after the mid-arc incident, opened her heart to Ryen?

My body reacted before my brain could catch up, and I glanced back on instinct.

But she was already gone, slipping back into the bathroom as if the conversation never happened.

"…Right. Water. Then bed. Sleep is good."

Transmigrating into an academy story, special edition.

No matter how much you try to avoid things… destiny just grabs you by the collar and drags you straight into the center of every incident.

As I stepped out of the hallway and into the cool night air, I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding.

My pulse hadn't co back down yet. My ears were still warm. My mind still replayed Leona's voice, her trembling eyes, the way she clung to my answer like it was so kind of lifeline.

How did things end up like this…?

I rubbed my face with both hands.

"Oh, I'm so tired…"

I had fought monsters, survived dungeons, argued with professors, and dealt with unpredictable main characters before.

But nothing—absolutely nothing—trained for tomboy knight girl asking if her breasts were beautiful at midnight.

I tried to shake off the lingering embarrassnt, but it didn't help.

Every ti I breathed out, the mory drifted back in like a ghost I couldn't exorcise.

Leona's expression…

That half-frightened, half-determined look…

As if she was standing on the edge of sothing and reaching out for the first ti.

I paused mid-step.

Actually…

Hadn't she been standing on the edge?

Her issues weren't small.

Her fears weren't light.

The fact she approached —, of all people—was absurdly out of character compared to the original story.

Yet… it made sense.

Not narratively.

Emotionally.

She wasn't asking if she was pretty.

She wasn't asking for approval.

She wasn't flirting, either.

She was checking—quietly, desperately—if soone could still see her as a woman, even after everything that had happened to her.

"…Damn it."

And because I stepped into her life, the script she was supposed to follow had already changed.

I didn't know if that was good.

I didn't know if it was bad.

But I knew it carried weight.

Heavy weight.

I reached the dorm courtyard, and the moonlight spilled over the quiet cobblestone. For a mont, I just stood there, staring up at the sky.

"…Beautiful, huh?"

Hearing myself say it out loud again made want to curl up and evaporate, but the feeling didn't go away.

Instead, sothing else settled in my chest.

A faint pressure.

An uncomfortable warmth.

The slow realization that—whether I intended it or not—I had crossed a line with Leona. Or maybe she crossed it with .

And now the story was shifting.

"…Which ans trouble is coming," I muttered, resigned.

Because in the original novel, that exact mont—those exact words—was the turning point where Leona's route began.

The point Ryen gained her trust.

Her hidden heart.

Her future loyalty.

But this ti…

She'd said them to .

"…Yeah. Water. Bed. Sleep."

I forced myself forward, each step heavier than before.

The night felt quieter.

The courtyard felt emptier.

And destiny—damn destiny—felt like it was smirking sowhere.

Because no matter how much I tried to avoid flags…

They kept finding anyway.

And tonight, I had just triggered a big one.

And so, just like that, the Travel Club's first trip ca to an end.