Chapter 269
With the remnants of sanity and courtesy he could still gather, Theo promptly urged Aldraya to return to her own room.
The reason was logical and practical.
Aldraya's clean, dry clothes were there.
Yet behind those simple words lay an urgent need for space, for distance, for a solitude in which he could process everything that had just shaken their small world.
'Hurry. Before she comes back with that blank expression and calmly helps put on these school pants—that would be the absolute worst-case scenario.'
The moment Aldraya's figure disappeared behind the door of the other room, leaving small trails of water on the wooden floor, Theo felt as though he were shedding a mask that had clung to him for far too long.
A sigh escaped his chest—one of relief, yet also of deep exhaustion.
That relief, however, was quickly replaced by a pressing alertness, a primitive instinct to protect himself from the next possible interruption.
He did not want to take even the smallest risk.
His memory vividly projected a scene he desperately wished to avoid.
Aldraya, with her unreadable, flat expression, suddenly reappearing and innocently offering help with getting dressed—especially with those complicated academy uniform trousers.
That vision alone was enough to make his blood run cold, the peak of all the discomfort he had already endured.
With movements bordering on panic, he dashed toward his wardrobe.
His hands, still slightly damp, yanked the closet door open roughly.
His eyes immediately searched for and found the neatly arranged academy uniform set.
There was no time to choose or hesitate.
He grabbed the shirt and trousers with force, the clean cotton fabric feeling foreign against skin still warm from the lingering bathroom steam.
His focus narrowed to a single objective.
Cover his body as quickly as possible, rebuilding a layer of physical protection that also functioned as psychological armor.
Every second felt precious, each imagined footstep approaching from the corridor registering as a tangible threat.
"Theo, please help me put this on."
For a moment, the world felt calm and under control.
Theo stood before the mirror, staring at his own reflection—now properly put together.
A tie with a perfectly formed knot framed his collar, the belt was fastened tightly around his waist, and he had flicked the hem of his uniform shirt out from his trousers to prevent wrinkles, a final small routine that gave him the illusion of complete normalcy.
His breathing began to steady, his heart rate—previously pounding—gradually settling into a calmer rhythm.
He almost believed the storm had passed, that he had successfully crossed that night full of paradoxes and reached the safe harbor of a routine morning.
His entire appearance became a protective mantra, an attempt to bury the memory of dampness, moans, and strange fluids beneath layers of clean, orderly fabric.
But that fragile calm shattered instantly, triggered by a single voice.
The voice came from behind his closed bedroom door, slipping through the wooden gap and piercing straight into the safe space he had just constructed.
Aldraya's voice.
No louder than a whisper, yet ringing as clearly as a bell in Theo's ears.
Her tone remained flat, innocent, and unburdened, exactly as usual.
But her words sparked an immediate panic response throughout Theo's nervous system.
Aldraya was asking for help.
She was asking Theo to help her put something on.
'Better not approach directly.'
"Can't you put it on yourself, Aldraya?"
"Without your assistance, my dignity may be compromised. And that is not something I can permit."
Images of steamy fog, accidental touches, and soul-stirring moans still lingered vividly in Theo's mind, forming a thick instinctive barrier between him and the locked door.
The silence in his own room suddenly felt heavy, filled only by his own breathing as he struggled to keep it under control.
His decision came quickly, defensive and firm.
He would not approach.
Certainly not open that door and risk himself on another unforeseen physical proximity.
From behind the safety of the wooden barricade, his voice emerged, trying to sound logical and calm despite the subtle tremor of anxiety.
Carefully choosing his words, he asked whether Aldraya truly could not put the item on by herself.
The question was a hope, a final attempt to encourage independence and preserve the hard-won saving distance he had achieved.
Yet from the other side of the firmly closed door, Aldraya's answer did not come in a pleading or whining tone that might have been easier to refuse.
Her voice was flat, like a weather report, but carried a meaning that felt deep and threatening.
She stated, without dramatic embellishment, a consequence that sounded far more terrifying to Theo than mere physical discomfort.
A decline in authority.
Those two words hung in the quiet corridor air, piercing straight into the core of Theo's concern for the order and hierarchy he had tried so hard to maintain.
Aldraya—an entity whose authority was an intrinsic part of her existence—was implying that Theo's refusal would damage it.
Furthermore, Aldraya asserted that "this thing"—the still unseen and undefined object—was an element that must not be absent from her characteristics.
'I hope nothing worse awaits.'
Fuuuuh!
'A tie?'
For a moment, time seemed to freeze on the brink of decision.
Theo stood still, surrounded by the silence of his own room and the echo of that ominous statement from behind the door.
Then, with a sigh so heavy it felt as though he were lifting the weight of the entire sky, he surrendered to the fate he felt had ensnared him.
That breath was not relief, but acceptance of an unavoidable consequence.
In his heart, a small, panicked prayer arose—a simple hope that no further misfortune would befall him, that the bizarre events in the bathroom would suffice as a trial, and that no new surprises awaited to unbalance him further.
With forced resolve, he moved quickly.
His footsteps thudded across the wooden floor, approaching the door that marked the boundary between chaos and false calm.
His right hand reached for the doorknob, the cold metal contrasting sharply with his sweaty palm.
There was no more hesitation, no more countdown.
With a firm twist and push, he opened the door.
The hinges creaked softly, widening the line of sight into the corridor and the figure standing there.
The dim morning light from the corridor window illuminated a sight he had not expected at all.
All his grim imaginings of strange clothing, embarrassing situations, or confusing mystical attributes evaporated instantly.
There stood Aldraya, already dressed neatly in the academy uniform, yet holding an awkward pose.
Her hands were busy around her neck, fingers that usually appeared elegant now looking clumsy and unfocused, struggling to tame a strip of fabric wrapped haphazardly around her collar.
'Ah, I remember. From those thousands of words in her biodata, Aldraya never wore a tie.
For her, a tie knot was a symbol of betrayal against Quil-Hasa.'
The memory came like an unexpected undertow, washing away the confusion and fatigue from the bathroom earlier, replacing them with a fragment of memory long buried deep within rarely visited corridors of his consciousness.
Theo recalled a time that felt almost like someone else's life, when the world still turned on its usual axis, before everything was consumed by the game-reality called Flo Viva Mythology.
To be continued…