Chapter 130 - Spirit of the Guardian Tree (9)

Whether due to it being early in the semester or not, one could hear students' laughter everywhere during Eternia's daytime.

Not being one to laugh much myself, I found this atmosphere fascinating and sometimes enviable.

Though full of laughter, Eternia wasn't entirely like a fairy tale paradise. Looking at each individual, everyone carried their own worries and pain—family pressure, academic stress, relationship difficulties.

I had my own concerns too. Being ranked first wasn't something I could be complacent about. Wearing the label of Silveryn's disciple meant facing harsh judgment if I failed to meet expectations.

I couldn't waste time. Even if the schedule felt overwhelming, I needed to spend each day efficiently.

I woke at dawn to bake cookies following a recipe I'd learned, then packaged them. This was a sort of reward to keep the wild horse-like Trisha in check.

Early morning, I headed to the Art Club’s greenhouse. Making my way past empty easels like avoiding obstacles, I went to my painting in the furthest corner.

The portrait of Silveryn remained exactly as I'd left it before the circulatory system practice. It still needed work before completion.

Just looking at this painting made me feel good. Silveryn sitting before the Lake of Oblivion. It was the most beautiful memory I had of her.

My work notebook lay on the chair beside it. And someone had left a handful of candy with it, though I didn't know who.

Though I appreciated the gesture, I didn't eat things from strangers.

I put the candy in my pocket and sat down.

Then continued working. Though the basic sketch was complete, there was still far to go before finishing.

After working for about two hours, yesterday's events suddenly came to mind and I stood up. I thought the masked man from the Guardian Tree might be from the Art Club.

I walked around with my hands behind my back, checking each irregularly placed easel.

Soon I found a sketch of the Guardian Tree. As expected, that man was an Art Club member. Looking back, though his appearance was suspicious, he didn't seem to be trying to hide his Art Club affiliation.

In the picture, a girl sat at the Guardian Tree, looking somewhere. Though only rough forms remained, the lines show considerable skill.

He seemed sincere about the Guardian Tree's spirit. Well, I had no intention of criticizing someone passionate about their work. I could fully understand his feelings.

Returning to my seat to work, Art Club members began filing in.

Then the club president and vice president, Haley and Zenia, kicked open the door and strode in majestically. Their walk resembled bandits.

"Freshman!"

President Haley, her blonde hair tied back tightly as if fresh from training, massaged my shoulders with a grin as she passed.

Zenia pulled up a chair beside me and asked, "Hey, freshman. Who's 'S'?"

"...Pardon?"

Why is she suddenly asking about that initial? 

My heart sank instantly. The only thing related to that initial was Silveryn's Stitch.

"Whose underwear with 'S' was in your bed? Huh? Which pig girl is bothering you?"

Isn't she too casually confessing to breaking into my room? And what's this about 'S' underwear?

"...I'm not sure."

Just then, Haley shouted, "Hey! Stop bothering the freshman!"

"Fine, see you later. Wait..."

Zenia stared at the red-colored hair in my painting.

"Come to think of it, you..."

Her eyes widened as if realizing something.

"Yes?"

"Ah, never mind. Pretend you didn't hear this."

***

When club activity time came, Professor Georgia entered the greenhouse humming.

As students stood to greet her, she gestured dismissively.

"Sit, sit, be comfortable."

She walked to the greenhouse center, and clapped her hands for attention.

"Now then, those who are busy can listen while working. I've brought good news today. To think such things would happen to our small provincial Art Club."

Students' ears perked up at "good news."

Georgia looked around at the students contentedly and said.

"First, we have fresh new members joining. Introductions were delayed due to circulatory system practice. Come in."

Two girls and one boy walked in from behind.

I knew one of them. It was Lilith.

The new members greeted in turn.

"I'm Dorothy. Please take care of me."

"Lilith Izelius."

"I'm Ivan. It's truly an honor to join the Art Club."

For a moment, I felt Lilith's gaze turn toward me.

Maybe I was being oversensitive. Lilith had never met me without my mask. She probably wouldn't recognize me.

"Alright, go to your seats."

After sending the new members off, she delivered the second news.

"Next, our Art Club has received substantial activity funding."

After a moment of dead silence, one student asked, "...How much?"

"Enough to play to our heart's content in Claridium if we achieve decent results in the inter-school competition?"

The greenhouse immediately buzzed with excitement. People were talking about the city of magic and such, but I had no idea what they meant.

"A lucky charm has entered our Art Club."

Moreover, Georgia smiled at me contentedly. Could I have something to do with the activity funding?

I started wondering if I was being overly sensitive to others' gazes today.

Then someone tapped my collar lightly.

Fabella stood behind me in neat attire.

"Need to get chairs and easels for the new members... could you help?"

Right, this is a job for me, being a junior.

"...Understood."

I put down my brush and quietly stood to follow Fabella outside the greenhouse.

An awkward silence continued as I followed her lead.

She walked with hands clasped neatly, head slightly bowed. Then, she slowed slightly to walk beside me.

After hesitating briefly, she asked, "...I saw your painting. It's Professor Silveryn, right?"

"Yes."

"You're skilled. Like you've studied for years... Where's the background?"

"Wiesel."

"Ah, I heard the professor's mansion was in Wiesel, guess that was right.... You must be quite close to Professor Silveryn."

"Yes."

I offered no additional explanation.

We entered a building's storage room to gather what we needed.

I picked up three easels stacked together in one arm while Fabella gathered extra chairs.

On the way back, she seemed to have been thinking about it and spoke again.

"Um... how did you meet Professor Silveryn in Wiesel? And... how long has it been?"

"...Are you interrogating me?"

Fabella responded flustered, "No, that's not... Sorry, I asked unnecessary questions."

The conversation ended there, followed by awkward silence.

Reaching the greenhouse entrance, we saw an unfamiliar person's back. We stopped briefly.

A girl wearing a long-brimmed round hat and beige dress without excessive decoration. Clearly not an Art Club member.

She stood at the entrance, tiptoeing to peek inside.

There was a strange familiarity in her back view and gestures. I could tell instinctively.

"Trisha...?"

She turned around startled. It really was Trisha.

Her eyes curved into crescents meeting mine.

Then she shouted with dimples showing, as if proud, "Damian!"

Trisha was dressed brightly like a noble lady going on an outing.

She trotted over to me and greeted Fabella lightly.

"Hello. You must be an Art Club senior. I'm Damian's friend."

Fabella coldly asked back, "...Friend?"

"Yes, Damian's first friend."

"..."

Then, spreading her skirt sideways, she said to me, "Look! I dressed up really pretty, right?"

"You did, almost didn't recognize you."

Then, I spoke to Fabella in a businesslike tone, "We'll go in first."

People invited for the “Drawing a Friend” assignment entered the greenhouse.

The sudden increase in people created temporary chaos.

Lilith, seemingly friendless, crouched on a decorative stone in the corner, scribbling in her notebook.

I thought Fabella might bring her fiancé, but she didn't welcome anyone.

Professor Georgia wasn't one to scold people for not bringing friends. She instructed those without to draw anyway, going around offering necessary advice.

I settled with Trisha under a small flowering tree in the greenhouse.

"Like this?"

Unfamiliar with modeling, Trisha sat awkwardly in the chair.

"No. That'll be hard to maintain. Relax your body, be comfortable."

"Like this?"

"Relax your arms too, you'll get cramps that way."

"Um, Damian..."

"What?"

"The stares are uncomfortable..."

"We see each other every day, why are you like this?"

"That's not it... it's not just you looking..."

Actually, my back felt prickly too. Only three or four people, including me, brought opposite-sex friends to the Art Club.

The greenhouse wasn't particularly spacious, making it hard to ignore surrounding gazes. Though the members didn't dislike Trisha herself, they didn't seem particularly welcoming to a Drama Club member.

I brought a table to put beside her and placed the cookies I'd prepared.

"Eat these when you want, relax."

"Hah... okay. It's a bit difficult, being my first time!"

She picked up a cookie and nibbled it like a hungry rabbit.

"Good. Just move your arm like that, keep the rest still."

After about ten minutes, everyone seemed to have started serious work as the chaos settled. Only the rustling of clothes and scratching of brushes filled the greenhouse.

And I could hear Trisha crunching cookies.

"Is it good?"

Trisha nibbled a cookie every five minutes.

"Did you make these? Pretty good!"

Good. As long as she's satisfied.

"By the way, brush that off."

"What?"

Absorbed in eating, Trisha hadn't noticed the cookie crumbs on her mouth.

"On your mouth."

Trisha started to raise her hand to her mouth but stopped, rolling her eyes as if thinking. Then lowered her arm, leaving the crumbs.

She leaned her upper body slightly toward me and said playfully, "Where?"

I sighed and said, "Hold still."

I reached out and wiped the crumbs from Trisha's mouth with my thumb.

She tried to control her expression by tightening her mouth, but couldn't hide her smiling eyes.

And at that moment.

There was a crashing sound of things falling behind us.

Trisha and I turned toward the sound.

Everyone looked startled by the loud noise.

Fabella stood there.

And on the floor, palette and paints were scattered messily.