Leci didn't want to do this. She really didn't want to. But if she refused, Fianna would undoubtedly report her to the Journalism Club's supervising teacher — and then her grades would be at risk.
So whether she liked it or not, Leci forced herself to gather her courage and approach Irza's classroom, 3-B, right during lunch break. From the open doorway, she peeked inside and searched for a familiar figure. In her heart, she prayed Irza wouldn't be there — because if he wasn't, she could simply turn around and escape.
"Who are you looking for?"
She jolted at the voice suddenly rising behind her. When she turned, the very person she'd been searching for was already standing there, gazing at her with mild curiosity. His emerald eyes — those unmistakable eyes — swept away a brief memory that had long lain buried.
What Leci remembered most about Irza was his calm, gentle face — one she never tired of looking at. His warm aura made anyone feel welcome around him. That was what remained in Leci's memory of Irza Nagel.
But something was different this time. Not just because her feelings had faded — but because he himself seemed different. The same person, yes… yet the aura surrounding him had shifted into something unfamiliar, as though something clung to him and warped his presence.
Leci stood frozen, her gaze locked onto the thing on Irza's back — a figure resembling an old man with hollow eyes, waving slowly with a crooked smile directed right at her.
"Are you alright?" Irza's voice pulled her back when she didn't respond. He even waved a hand in front of her face, confused by her blank stare.
Snapping out of her daze, Leci forced herself to ignore the horrifying presence that still clung to his back. "I'm fine," she answered. You're the one who clearly isn't, she added silently.
Irza gave a weak nod. His once warm aura now flickered like a lantern running out of oil. Even his ever-present gentle smile looked dim, shadowed by the dark circles beneath his eyes.
"I feel like I've seen you before," Irza mused, narrowing his eyes as though trying to recall something. He stroked his chin thoughtfully. The spectral figure on his back mimicked him eerily, making the same gesture.
Leci tried her best to ignore both of them, but she still felt uneasy. As someone who could see the supernatural — and as an Exorcist who had defeated many spirits — she couldn't simply overlook it.
"I'm Leciara Maclean from class 2-C. I actually have business with you, Senior," Leci explained, forcing her attention back onto him. "The Journalism Club wants to interview you, since you're the national speech competition winner."
The young man blinked, forming an 'Oh' with his lips. Then he gestured for Leci to follow him. "If it's an interview, we shouldn't do it here," he said, walking ahead.
Leci trailed behind him. Along the way, numerous eyes followed them — no, followed Irza. As a former Student Council President, his popularity had never once dipped. Many first-year girls still admired him openly.
"I remember you—you almost fainted that day. So you're from the Journalism Club," Irza remarked as they climbed the stairs toward the rooftop. It was the perfect place for a serious talk — quiet, secluded, away from wandering students.
Leci nodded automatically, forgetting that Irza couldn't see her since he was walking ahead. "Yes," she replied briefly.
Because of that short reply, Irza was left without anything else to say. Their previous meeting had been so brief that there wasn't much to recall. By the time they reached the rooftop, neither of them had spoken another word.
Leci inhaled deeply, surveying the rooftop. It was quieter than she expected. Only three students sat eating lunch at the far end, while two girls chatted softly on a bench. Afterward, Leci followed Irza, who stood at a spot slightly apart from the others, staring wearily down at the sports field below.
She stopped about two meters away. Before coming here, she had prepared multiple questions in her notebook. But there was no way she could conduct an interview like this — not with that eerie figure still clinging to Irza's back, watching her with a mocking grin.
Who is that old man? Why is he attached to Irza? Leci's thoughts churned in discomfort. She couldn't focus.
While preparing her notes and pen, she exhaled slowly. "Before we begin… Senior, could you close your eyes for a moment?"
Irza looked confused, but he complied without further questions. He must be exhausted — and eager to finish this interview quickly.
"Don't open your eyes until I say so," Leci instructed once more as she scribbled a spell onto her small notebook. When she finished, she tore out the page and flicked it toward the transparent old man's forehead, the charm already activated by her breath.
Swish! Thud!
Such a pathetic little ghost, Leci muttered as she crouched down to pick up the fallen soul stone. Even its quality was poor — truly the weakest kind. "You may open your eyes now, Senior."
The moment Irza opened them, he immediately felt something shift within his body. His emerald eyes widened, gleaming brighter than before. As if to confirm the strange sensation, he rolled his shoulders and stretched the joints in his neck.
Satisfied with what he felt, he fixed his gaze on Leci, his tone unabashed and direct. "Did you… do something to me?"
Honestly, Leci had acted purely out of discomfort — she hadn't even thought it through. "Eh? Do something? Like what?"
"I've been having nightmares lately, and I haven't been able to sleep at all. My head hurts constantly—I can't focus, I feel dizzy," Irza confessed suddenly.
The cold demeanor he once carried seemed to melt away as he spoke. "But when you told me to close my eyes… I felt lighter. As if something heavy on my shoulders was suddenly lifted."
Leci neither denied nor confirmed it. Let Irza draw his own conclusions — there was no need to correct him. "Since when has this been happening?" she asked calmly.
"Probably not long after the speech competition." A predictable answer — one that connected every thread Leci needed.
"In that case, Senior should keep good relations with the people you defeated," Leci said flatly. She opened her notebook again, ready to finally begin the interview.
But Irza seemed to understand the hidden meaning behind her words. He smiled again — warmly, gently — smiles that once had the power to soften Leci's heart. "Since we didn't get a chance to properly introduce ourselves back then, let's do it now."
He extended his hand, his smile widening. "My name is Irza Nagel, class 3-B."
Leci froze for a moment. Just a moment. Then she reached out and took his hand. "Leciara Maclean, class 3-C. It's nice to meet you."
"A pleasure to meet you, Leciara. I hope we can work well together from now on."
Whooosh…
A gentle gust of wind brushed past Leci, leaving behind a hollow ache in her chest. Why was it that they could only grow closer now, after her feelings for him had faded? Why did she never get this chance back then? Why only now could they finally speak to each other properly?
For a few moments, Leci stared at their joined hands. His warmth. His aura. They were hard to ignore.
It wasn't that Leci liked him again — she simply felt relieved. As if the misunderstanding between them caused by the Ancient Guardian Spell had finally been cleared.
Maybe she had carved a new memory into Irza's mind, and in return, she now understood that his coldness back then was nothing more than the protective spell's influence. He was a kind person — if she hadn't used the spell, perhaps they would have been close long ago.
Huft… There was nothing left to regret. Things had simply unfolded the way they were meant to. At the very least, they had finally repaired the lingering impression left between them.
The interview began. Irza answered every question with ease and sincerity — so effortlessly that Leci found herself thinking Irza truly was someone made to be admired.
When the bell rang, they parted ways and returned to their respective classes. On her way back, Leci reread the interview notes. Not a single flaw. Fianna was going to be thrilled.
Creak…
Bump!
So focused on her notes, Leci didn't watch where she was going. She didn't notice when someone opened the storage room door and stepped out. A small collision was inevitable.
"Leciara, you need to look ahead when you walk," said a voice that made her heart stumble — especially when the faint scent of his cologne brushed past her senses.
"I-I'm sorry, Teacher!" Leci squeaked. Just seeing him was enough to turn her into a boiled crab.
Kieron gave a faint smile, then tapped her head lightly with his book. "The bell has rung. Return to your class."
Leci nodded quickly. Before leaving, she sneakily glanced at him — only to find Kieron already watching her, lips curling as he tried to suppress a laugh.
One look at Kieron's lips, and Leci was assaulted by yesterday's memory. The moment she realized he had given her mouth-to-mouth, she felt herself melt like overheated jelly.
Why am I becoming like this?!