Can't Help Feeling Fluttery, Seriously

Chapter 122

'Twelve times.'

I'd subconsciously counted that many times just since a moment ago.

In only thirty minutes after class started.

Every time I looked at the blackboard, held the chalk, or turned to the students to explain.

Professor Iris noona had glanced toward my window seat twelve times.

If it were our professor, who even zaps sleeping students on the head, then of course she'd be checking the whole classroom to gauge how well everyone was following along.

But that wasn't the kind of gaze distribution, was it?

It felt like she was forcing herself not to look, but her gaze kept sticking to my face and bouncing off again, as if pulled there by a magnet.

She keeps doing it, and it's getting hard to deal with.

Of course, that probably wouldn't apply to her, but these days my own relationships with women are getting complicated even from my point of view.

I narrowed my eyes and silently watched the lectern.

Tap-tap, tap-tap.

"So, the core of an external-type mana array is nature...."

As Professor Iris continued speaking, she moved her head again.

And then.

A glance.

The thirteenth time.

This time, our eyes met properly.

I wasn't avoiding it either—I was staring right back.

"...!"

The moment our eyes met, Professor Iris's shoulders gave a tiny jolt.

The white chalk in her hand struck the blackboard with a shrill squeak!

"Ah."

She let out a short cry and hurriedly turned her gaze back to the blackboard.

Then she grabbed the eraser and started furiously rubbing out the tail end of the formula she had just written.

The students in the classroom watched her in confusion.

Why is she erasing it? Was the formula wrong?

But was the youngest genius professor in academy history really erasing the board because she got confused over a formula in a first-year class?

'That's exactly what they seem to be thinking.'

The students tilted their heads at the unusual sight, but none of them dared to point it out and only held their breath.

I let go of the hand that had been propping up my chin and straightened my posture.

'Why is our teacher acting like this, seriously? What is going on?'

I get that she'd been rattled by watching me tear up the training ground floor all weekend with the click skill.

But wasn't it too much to zone out in class and then sneak glances at an innocent student thirteen times?

* * *

"Today's class will end here."

Clack.

Professor Iris announced the end of class as she set the chalk down on the lectern.

I slowly pushed up from the desk I had been lying on.

Rubbing my stiff neck, I glanced down toward the lectern.

Professor Iris was tidying the lectern, gathering the attendance book and lecture materials.

Normally, she would have turned on her heel the moment class ended and dashed straight to her lab, but today her hands looked unusually slow and awkward.

'...She looks broken, no matter how you look at it.'

It was the continuation of that suspicious gaze that had glanced at me thirteen times during class.

When I stood up, it looked like the students around me were once again about to turn their eyes my way.

But I ignored them completely and walked toward the lectern.

I couldn't just pretend not to notice my teacher when she was being so clumsy.

More than that, if I wanted to finish today's quota of three clicks early, I could spend the rest of the afternoon on the sofa in the lab peeling tangerines for our Ppindangie.

Tap, tap, tap.

As I approached, I could see Professor Iris's shoulders stiffen slightly while she was organizing the lectern.

"Professor."

"...!"

Thud.

The moment I called out to her, the stack of papers in her hands spilled onto the lectern.

Professor Iris turned toward me stiffly.

Her red eyes behind her glasses were trembling like a broken machine.

"...What is it?"

What do you mean, what is it?

I wasn't some deadbeat coming to borrow money, so was it really that shocking for a student to walk up to his assigned professor?

"Class is over."

I answered as I gathered the scattered papers and straightened them out with quick taps.

"I thought maybe we should head to the training ground."

"Ah."

Professor Iris's lips parted slightly.

Her gaze landed on my face, then slid sideways in the blink of an eye.

So that's when she was sneaking glances. And now she's flustered.

She gave a small cough and answered, keeping her gaze fixed on the empty air.

"I see. Training. Yes, we should do magic training."

What? Why is she really acting like this?

That reaction was like someone who had completely forgotten the training schedule just a moment ago.

'This doesn't seem like our teacher noona at all.'

Are you really the workaholic mad scientist who should be grabbing my collar and dragging me along, and even that wouldn't be enough?

"Ahem. Let's go. To Training Hall No. 3."

Professor Iris roughly tucked the papers under her arm and started leading the way at a brisk pace.

Watching that awkward, creaking back of hers, I scratched the back of my head.

"Understood."

I honestly had no idea what was going on, but for now it was best to go along with what she wanted.

* * *

Academy Magic Training Hall No. 3.

Because I'd completely torn up the terrain yesterday, the floor had been packed down into a neat, flat surface.

Whoosh.

A cool spring breeze swirled around the center of the wide training ground.

I stood in a suitable spot and loosened my body up.

Professor Iris, who had followed behind me, stopped about three steps away.

"What spell am I supposed to use today?"

When I turned around and asked, Professor Iris pushed up her glasses and answered.

"We've already checked fire and earth, so this time it'd be best to cast a water-attribute spell, since that should show mana's condensation and fluidity most clearly."

Water, huh.

"Understood."

I nodded and turned to face forward again.

And, as always, I quietly waited for her thin, cool hand to rest softly on the middle of my back.

But even after waiting a long time, there was no touch.

'My back feels strangely empty.'

Normally, she'd have placed her hand there without delay the moment I turned around, but today she seemed to be hesitating behind me.

What is she doing, seriously, not laying a hand on me?

I turned my head slightly and looked at her over my shoulder.

"What's wrong?"

Professor Iris clenched and unclenched her right hand, biting her lip like someone standing on the brink of a major decision.

Then she carefully opened her mouth.

"...Sorry, but today I think we'll need to observe it a little differently from yesterday."

"Differently? What, are we going to do it while standing on one leg or something?"

She didn't react at all to my nonsense.

Instead, she slowly stepped forward and came to stand not behind me, but directly in front of me—right before my eyes.

The distance was barely more than one step.

Her jet-black hair flowed down from the crown of her head.

Professor Iris, with her head slightly lowered, looked up at me carefully.

Maybe because she was so close, the two red eyes behind her lenses looked especially clear.

"Today, I think I'll need to examine the inner mana circuit in your body through your chest rather than your back."

"Yes. ...Yes?"

The chest?

I tilted my head inwardly.

'What's the difference?'

Either way, whether she put her palm on my back or on my chest, it would amount to the same thing—just a different location—since she was poking around inside a body that didn't even have a mana circuit to begin with.

If anything, putting her hand on the front would make it more likely she'd get caught up in the shockwaves or backlash when I used the Solver.

I couldn't understand why she'd suddenly changed course when she'd been saying all along that observing from the front was inconvenient.

But.

'I don't really feel like objecting.'

If I'm told to do it, I do it.

What power did a mere student have when a professor wanted to touch his chest?

If I resisted and got my grades lowered or something, that would only hurt me.

"Sure, do whatever's most comfortable for you."

When I lightly spread my arms and offered my chest, the tips of Professor Iris's ears flushed bright red.

She extended her slightly trembling white hand.

Swoosh.

"...Ugh."

Without meaning to, I swallowed.

Over the thin fabric of my uniform shirt, her cool palm carefully settled on the exact spot on my left chest where my heart was beating.

Soft.

I knew in my head that this was nothing more than an academic act of observing mana.

But when a pretty girl's hand was plastered right over my heart like this, face-to-face with our gazes perfectly aligned...

'Can't help feeling fluttery, seriously.'

Any man would naturally have his heartbeat speed up in this situation.

I wasn't some block of wood.

Thump, thump.

My heart began to beat faster and harder than usual.

Just imagining that this pounding would be transmitted to her completely through her palm made me strangely self-conscious.

Then.

Professor Iris, who had been staring at my chest, slowly lifted her head and met my eyes.

'...Wow.'

In that instant, my heart lurched.

She was a face I'd probably be used to by now, and yet every time I saw it, it felt new.

No matter how many times I looked, she was still ridiculously beautiful, seriously.

Her red eyes held a mysterious allure, and the features visible beyond her thin silver-rimmed glasses were in perfect harmony, as though that was where they had always belonged.

That visual was proof she'd dumped all her stats into brains and looks.

And when my gaze naturally traveled down her face.

'Holy shit.'

Recently, ever since this noona had ditched the fluttery dress and worn nothing but stiff suits buttoned all the way to the throat day and night, I'd grown a little numb to her overwhelming looks.

But standing face-to-face this close, close enough for our breaths to mingle.

The chest rising beneath her neatly tailored shirt...

I was hit all over again by just how insanely, monstrously huge it really was.