Chapter 2

Whenever Julian came even a little closer to her, Beatrice would startle and step back, and this happened repeatedly. Each time, Beatrice would glance at Julian with an embarrassed face, worried that he might be offended by her actions.

Yet, when Julian approached again, the same thing happened all over. No matter how much she resolved not to act that way, her instinctive reaction was beyond her control. Fortunately, regardless of her attitude, the potion was successfully made on the first try.

“Thank you for your effort, Julian.”

Only after she poured the potion into the container and closed the lid did she let out a sigh of relief, her entire tense body relaxing.

How fortunate it was that nothing had happened!

It had only been ten minutes, but she had been so nervous that she was even breaking out in a cold sweat down her back.

At her words of thanks, Julian stared at Beatrice.

“……Yes, Beatrice, you did well too.”

His answer came a beat late. Even if she wasn’t the most perceptive, Beatrice could tell that he seemed a little hurt.

Beatrice, flustered, rolled her eyes anxiously. She suddenly felt she should apologize, but the words couldn’t quite make it past her lips.

How could she possibly explain?

‘The truth is, Julian, I heard your nickname. They call you the Platinum Rag…. I was worried you might do something terrible to me, who’s to become a priestess. I’m sorry. I know you’re not really that kind of thoughtless person.’

Beatrice shook her head slightly. That sort of excuse was better left unsaid.

“Um, well, then, I’ll be going first.”

Beatrice, with an awkward smile, bowed her head. She hoped she could come up with a better way to apologize before they met again.

But it was so strange.

Just ten minutes ago, the laboratory door had opened easily as expected.

No matter how hard she pushed now, it wouldn’t budge.

***

From soaking rags in cold water, Beatrice’s hands had turned red and numb, her fingertips so stiff she could barely feel them. As she blew on her hands to warm them, a shadow fell across her.

Beatrice blinked in surprise when she saw Julian had approached her without her noticing. He sat right beside her and, without hesitation, wrapped her hands in his.

“I told you to just give up already.”

Julian’s hands were warm. Unlike Beatrice, he hadn’t had his hands in the cold water, so of course they were.

“I-it’s fine! Please let go.”

Beatrice tried to pull her hands away, but she couldn’t overcome Julian’s strength.

“I’m just trying to warm your hands. If you keep avoiding me so obviously, even I’ll get hurt.”

At Julian’s words, Beatrice could only sit there, silent as if she’d swallowed honey.

Was he really hurt?

Julian’s faint smile appeared as he watched Beatrice, who couldn’t say anything and only watched his reactions.

“You didn’t think I wouldn’t notice, did you? Sorry. Maybe I should have just kept pretending not to know.”

“Um, it’s just that I was really nervous today…. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not just today, you know. It’s fine.”

“What? Not just today? When did I ever avoid you, Julian?”

Beatrice’s voice rose in her fluster. Julian replied with a gentle smile.

“Oh, it’s happened quite a few times. We always met in crowded places, and you kept putting off coming to the laboratory. That’s why we ended up as the last pair, right?”

Julian spoke again, looking at Beatrice, who couldn’t bring herself to answer.

“It’s only natural, I think. You must have heard the rumors about me. Beatrice, it’s only right to be even more cautious.”

“Th-that’s….”

Beatrice’s lips parted and then closed.

Rumors.

She’d heard them. In excessive detail.

‘Platinum Rag.’

A combination of words that was both blatant and vulgar.

The Julian she had experienced wasn’t bad enough to be despised and called such names. In fact, to be more precise, he was a very good person.

When Beatrice, as an exchange student, couldn’t keep up with the class, it was Julian—not anyone else—who helped her. As a project partner, he was diligent and cooperative, and as a senior at the Academy, he kindly helped her adjust.

But everyone said he was cunning, selfish, and above all, his frivolous attitude toward women was the worst of his flaws. None of Julian’s actions toward Beatrice matched any of the warnings she’d heard.

“……I’m sorry.”

Beatrice apologized to Julian. She thought she’d hidden it well…. But realizing she’d hurt him not just today but even before made guilt well up inside her.

“I didn’t mean to….”

Even now, he was only sharing warmth because her hands were red and swollen, but she’d made her discomfort so obvious. As if to reassure her that she’d misunderstood, Julian returned to his seat once Beatrice’s frozen hands had warmed up enough.

Perfect silence settled once again in the laboratory. Beatrice glanced at Julian from time to time. Seeing his calm demeanor, so different from her own, she felt herself recover a little from her panic.

“Julian, how are you so calm?”

At Beatrice’s question, Julian turned to look at her. Perhaps pleased that she had spoken to him first, his eyes rounded cheerfully. Within them, his amethyst-colored pupils sparkled, catching the light.

“Have you ever heard that ancient magic is still active within the Academy grounds?”

“Ancient magic…?”

“I’ve heard that in places where mana is unstable, things like this happen very rarely. This is the first time I’ve experienced it myself.”

Julian spoke with a gentle smile.

“I’ve never heard of anyone getting hurt or killed because of things like this, so it should be fine. If we’re too late, the assistant will come looking for us. And worrying won’t solve anything anyway.”

His words made sense. As she listened to Julian, Beatrice felt her anxious heart gradually calm down.

“Then, Julian, what are you thinking about?”

“That writing on the wall from earlier.”

The room where you can’t leave unless you wash the rag.

Beatrice murmured with a sullen expression.

“But no matter how many times I wash the rag, the door doesn’t open.”

“If that’s the case, then the hypothesis must be wrong, just as I said.”

“…What?”

“Maybe that isn’t a rag. Or perhaps our idea of ‘washing’ is mistaken.”

Beatrice slightly parted her lips. She glanced around. There was only one rag used in the laboratory, and she had washed it more than ten times. No more dirty water came out now. The rag even smelled faintly of soap.

“But there’s only that one thing here that looks like a rag.”

“Exactly. That’s why I’ve been thinking. Maybe something about the conditions is wrong, and that’s why the door won’t open.”

Beatrice sprang up from her seat. She began searching through every drawer and corner of the laboratory. But except for the original rag, she couldn’t find any other cloth that resembled it.

It was then that Julian, who had been sitting, stood up and strode over to the sink. When Beatrice looked at him, he took the rag she had washed—more precisely, what had once been a rag—and brought it to his mouth.

“Ju-Julian!”

Beatrice, shocked enough to nearly faint, rushed over to him. Julian put the edge of the rag in his mouth and ‘sucked’ it. He then spat into the sink, rinsed his mouth, and tried pulling the door again, but it still didn’t open.