1.1 Spring Storm
I first met my boss—no, my former boss—when I was 16 years old. He was a super celebrity ever since his first day at the academy—and at the same time, my classmate. His desk was right next to mine.
Raynord Dusseldorf, the second son of a prestigious marquis family. Although his bloodline alone was extraordinary, he was more famous as the kingdom’s best magician.
Already a court wizard at the time, he wore a black robe over his uniform. His face was always buried in a thick book.
On the other hand, I was but a commoner. My father had recently been knighted. I had no opportunity to mingle aomg Raynord’s enormous connections, much else take advantage of them. Moreover, if I were to accidentally offend him, I didn’t know what would happen. The norm for aristocratic children was to enter the academy, but I already regretted being there on the very first day.
In any case, I had to stay out of his sight—or so I thought.
The next few days proved to be calm. To summarize the rumors of my classmates, Dusseldorf was famous for being aloof. He seemed to have abandoned socializing because he was already an established court wizard.
He was constantly reading spellbooks and in deep concentration writing something. As such, he paid no attention to his surroundings.
For me, that was fortunate. After all, I planned to graduate without making waves—
—however, my life wasn’t so sweet.
Within a week of enrollment, Dusseldorf’s desk was flooded with books, paper, and sometimes magical instruments and mysterious potion bottles. Day by day, they piled up. The teachers consistently ignored it.
Considering his position as the court wizard, which was higher than anyone else in that school, that might be natural.
Besides, it had nothing to do with me.
I thought so, but one day, his mountain of books, which had reached its limit, caused an avalanche.
I immediately supported it from the side and decided to speak to him.
“Excuse me, Lord Dusseldorf, but if you aren’t careful, the sleeve of your robe will get caught and cause even another avalanche.”
Dusseldorf stared at me with rounded eyes. He was suddenly called out to by someone of low stature, it was no wonder he was surprised. He probably thought I didn’t know who he was. The act of reprimanding someone with a higher status wasn’t encouraged, but it was an emergency. I hoped he’d overlook it.
Then, Dusseldorf averted his gaze and withdrew his arm while muttering, “You got a point.”
“Will you allow me to touch your personal belongings? Lord Dusseldorf, please stand over there.”
For the time being, I had received his permission. I stood up, arranged the bundle of books I was holding, and pulled in a few spare chairs from the edge of the classroom. I then moved some of the books and parchments, which had been randomly piled up over his desk, onto the chairs. I wanted to do my utmost to prevent another avalanche.
Meanwhile, as I moved around, Dusseldorf just stared at me.
…It seems that he’s used to being taken care of. As expected of the son of a marquis.
“Forgive me for tidying your desk without your permission. However, I believe it won’t collapse anymore.”
For him to give such a curt reply, he might have been uncomfortable letting others touch his personal belongings. At least to my eyes, it seemed to be that way.
But then, Dusseldorf and I did the same thing over and over again.
Over time, he might had gotten used to the kindness of others and he grew nicer to me. That didn’t mean we become friends. It was just him being fine with being taken care of by me.
Since I had a younger brother, I was used to being a caretaker. I gradually increased our involvement with each other while also taking note of his boundaries.
…By the end of the day, I simply concluded that Dusseldorf was incapable of taking care of himself.
To say nothing of his being unable to remain organized, he had no interest in anything other than magic. He also didn’t remember his schedule or the map of the academy. He would read books in the classroom for hours while everyone was taking practical lessons in the forest behind the academy.
What surprised me most was that he wouldn’t eat lunch. By the time I noticed that, a month had already passed since my enrollment.
That day, Dusseldorf was less enthusiastic than usual. By the afternoon, he finally crumpled down on his desk. I didn’t want to bother him too much, but eventually, my concern overcame me. I called out to him to which he explained that he had overslept and hadn’t eaten anything that morning.
Dusseldorf, a high-ranking aristocrat, normally are in his own room in the dormitory. Meanwhile, everyone else went to the academy’s dining room. He said that he had never eaten lunch since the first day of the academy. The reason was because he hated crowded places. Considering that he was still growing as a boy, it gave me a headache.
Starting the next day, I started to bring lunch for two. There was a shared kitchen space in the lower aristocratic dormitory, something probably unnecessary for the higher-ranking aristocrats. I made my own lunch to save money. My budget was close to that of a commoner’s—as such, the meals served in cafeteria were too expensive for me.
“I don’t believe a meal this simple would suit your tongue, but you have to eat, Lord Dusseldorf.”
After staring at my face for a while, Dusseldorf silently received it.
I was prepared for his refusal, but then he said, “I want to eat this again tomorrow.” upon finishing.
I felt like the owner of a cat, one whose cat ate from her hand for the first time.
At the same time, I was definitely beginning to be bound by that troublesome magician, who disliked social interactions.
***T/N: What do we classify this ikemen as… kuudere?