On a certain day at Pritchard’s High, a student noticed a strange noise coming from the girl’s bathroom. This student was curious but, as a boy, his options were limited. The boy pressed his ear to the nearest wall, closed his eyes, and listened. Despite his haphazard method, the boy gained two pieces of information. One, there was a girl crying. Two, that girl was someone he knew fairly well. The boy turned around and walked off with a smile. He wasn’t a malicious bully, nor was he lacking in empathy. He didn’t know her circumstances and he didn’t care. For him, her misfortune had become a small ray of hope.

“Have they finally decided to switch targets?” He thought gleefully.

The boy continued on his way and entered a classroom. Not a single pair of eyes shifted to acknowledge his presence. The boy sat down at his desk and silently waited for class to begin. Minutes passed and the boy’s gaze cautiously swept across the room. Everyone was busy talking to each other, so no one paid him any mind. He sighed in relief. This situation had persisted for a few weeks. After months of bullying, the class seemed to have gotten bored with him. Being ignored was about the best he could hope for.

The boy’s eyes widened as he watched the final student enter the classroom. She walked over to her friends and started chatting with relaxed ease. Nothing about her demeanor would suggest that she had been crying five minutes prior. The boy blinked. Had he misheard?

After class ended, he found his answer.

“No way, Hannah really slept with him?”

“Yea, what a riot!”

“I guess she’ll do it with anyone.”

“Or maybe she’s just a freak?”

The instant that girl left the room, everyone began whispering loudly. Even the friends that she had been talking to earlier were getting into it. The boy was sure that she’d heard some of their comments before she left. In fact, that was likely the reason why she left so quickly in the first place.

“Why are you pretending to be friends with everyone?” The boy asked her after school.

He wasn’t a particularly shy person. In fact, his bold and selfish nature was what had made him a pariah within the class.

“I can’t understand it. Those people don’t have any respect for you, so why do you act like that?”

“W-Why are you of all people asking me? What would a loser like you know?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.”

“Well then listen up. Don’t think we’re on the same level because of this!”

“That’s not-”

“Don’t talk to me again!” Hannah yelled as she stomped off.

The boy stood there, dumbfounded.

“…What’s the point in getting mad at me?”

- - -

“No thanks.”

“Can you at least say something different for once?”

'“No.”

“…”

“How was that? Different enough?”

Celia pinched the bridge of her nose for the umpteenth time that week. If this continued, Celia worried that she’d have two permanent red marks between her eyes. Five days had passed with no improvement to her situation. The Adventurer still refused to leave, and Pontius still insisted on using her as a proxy. Getting laughed out of the bar had become her nightly routine.

Celia let out a heavy sigh. She slumped forward in her seat and flagged down the barkeep.

“Oh, you’re going to drink?” The Adventurer asked.

“I feel like I don’t have any dignity left to lose. So, why not?”

After a few sips, Celia’s cheeks were already flushed.

“Maybe you had some to lose after all.” The Adventurer exclaimed, shaking his head. “I never figured you were such a lightweight.”

“Can it.”

Celia eyed her drink warily and then suddenly downed the whole thing. Minutes later, Celia was swaying on her stool and her face was red as a beet. A playful smile crept across her lips.

“Wereshou…weresh you really a platinum-grade advenshurer?”

“I technically still am.”

“Thatsh’ crazy. Crazy.” Celia muttered. “Mosht people shpend their entire lives advenshuring…an’ only get to silver *Burp* topsh.”

The Adventurer nodded knowingly.

“Tshe talented onesh make gold. Platinum ish the shtuff of legendsh. Lookin’ at yoush now, your partner musht’ve had really broad shoulders.”

“…Why?”

“To carry you of coursh!” Celia burst out in clumsy laughter.

The Adventurer dropped his smile for the first time that night.

“Oh? Did I upshet ya’?” Celia patted his shoulder. “I shaw her, back before yoush left for the Demon King. She was sho pretty! Totally out of your league!”

“Ha ha.” With a strange laugh, the Adventurer’s smile returned. “Maybe.”

“Tell me about her!” Celia mock pleaded. “Who was thish girl that wash crazshy enough to fight the Demon King with you?”

“Hmm…Well, her name was Hannah Strick. She and I were forced together through some bad luck, and then we ended up becoming adventurers.”

Celia traced a circle with her fingers, gesturing for him to continue.

“Hannah was always very nervous. She was terrified of disappointing expectations or being looked down upon. Honestly, it made me exhausted, thinking that she might live her entire life like that. However, everything changed when we came here. It was like a heavy burden had been lifted off both our shoulders.”

“Ah.” Celia folded her arms and nodded sagely. “I…don’t really get it.”

“If Hannah was here…” The Adventurer paused as he gazed up at the ceiling. “She would have definitely tried to be your friend.”

“Mhm, us beautiesh have to shtick together.”

“You’re very similar to how she used to be.”

This time, it was Celia’s smile that fell. She wanted to call him out for his insult, but the words wouldn’t come. The Adventure’s warm tone made it difficult for her to get angry.

“Hmph, I’m going home!”

As Celia stood up, half a dozen men left their tables. She pretended to ignore them and stumbled towards the door but they blocked her way.

“Why’re you so eager to see that old man?” One of them cooed. “How about we show you a good time?”

“How about you show me the door inshtead?” Celia snapped back.

The man lunged forward and grabbed her arm. Celia whispered a quick chant beneath her breath.

“How about I-YEOW!” The man howled as he fell back into a table. A few drinks spilled onto the floor, but no one paid them any mind. The patrons’ eyes were fixed on a smoldering orb that floated above Celia’s hand.

With a haughty smile, she flicked her wrist and dispelled the fireball.

“How about you learn your place? Low-life.”

The others cursed under their breath and begrudgingly moved away from the door. Celia strode out in wide meandering steps, blowing a mocking kiss as she left.

A cold wind blew through the quiet cobblestone streets. Celia stumbled along confidently with her arms at her side. Her pale skin carried the faint glow of a heating spell.

You’re very similar to how she used to be. The words of that adventurer echoed in her head.

Celia clenched her fists and quickened her pace. A particularly strong gust of wind hit her square in the face. The aide stumbled but she managed to keep her balance. After brushing golden strands of hair out of her eyes, Celia whipped around just in time to see a fist rush towards her. In the next instant, she was on the ground. Her arms and legs were pinned while a length of rope was pulled taut to bind her mouth. Celia’s muffled screams barely carried as she was dragged away from the main road. In a secluded alleyway, a meaty hand grabbed Celia’s hair and pulled her up onto her knees.

“How about it?” The hand’s owner forcefully turned her face towards his. “Are you still going to call us low-lives without your magic?”

“She’s not going to call us anything with her mouth like that~” Another aggressor laughed. Out of the corner of her eye, Celia could see the rest of the men who tried to assault her at the bar.

After a series of unintelligible groans, Celia finally found a word that she could halfway pronounce.

“Shcum.”

She was rewarded with a swift kick to the stomach.

“You think you’re so special, huh? All because you have that old man wrapped around your finger. An outsider like you coming here and taking advantage of our chief! Looking down on us like we’re too stupid to notice! Have you no shame!”

The man ended his rant with another kick. Celia writhed backwards in a weak attempt to escape. No one moved to stop her, instead they stood back and laughed at her ridiculous movements. As she reached the edge of the alley, someone stepped out to block her way. The thugs continued to laugh until they recognized the man standing before them.

“Hmm, I figured you’d have trouble getting home…”

Celia stopped her desperate crawl and tilted her head upwards.

“…But this is a little worse than slipping on some cobblestone.”

The entire alley fell silent, save for some muffled groans that could barely be recognized as; “Untie me already!” Everyone’s eyes followed the platinum-grade adventurer as he strode over to a discarded wooden box and took a seat.

“Well?” He raised his hands. “Don’t mind me.”

The men gave each other wary looks. Meanwhile, Celia made some loud groans that could be interpreted as; “What the heck are you doing?”

The Adventurer cocked his head. “What? Is this not part of your plan?”

The men from the bar glanced at each other again, and then one of them stepped forward.

“Yes! You figured it out! As expected of a platinum-grade adventurer. This girl asked us to assault her as she was coming home. Obviously, she got drunk on purpose as well. It was all a plot to have you save her and…then, uh, fall in love with her?”

Celia’s flushed face became even redder as she grunted a rebuttal.

“In any case…” The group collectively shuffled towards the open street. “Our role here is over, so we’ll take our leave.”

“Is that really alright?” The Adventurer called out, freezing them in place. “I’ve known you guys for two weeks now. Obviously, I have your faces memorized.”

The group’s leader turned around with a heavy sigh. “Ah, I guess there’s no helping it then.”

The men drew their daggers and rushed the Adventurer. It was over in an instant. Half a dozen blades slashed the Adventurer’s arms, legs and chest. Yet, when they backed away, their weapons were marred by nicks and scratches. It was as if they had been attacking at a stone wall. Meanwhile, said wall was looking no worse for wear.

“Just give up.” He grumbled. “If this was an RPG, then I’d be a tank.”

The Adventurer’s figure blurred. Over the next few seconds, the thugs were disarmed one by one and then thrown into the end of the alley. The Adventurer dusted himself off and then turned to Celia.

The moment he removed the rope binding her mouth, she sprang up and yelled; “I swear on the Malak family name, that was not planned! Those men came at me out of nowhere!”

“I know, I know.” The Adventurer waved her off. “I was talking about that rumor you spread around.”

“…Huh?” Celia breathed. Then, her eyes widened and she stumbled backwards.

“The rumor that you’re sleeping with the chief. You started that, right?”