I Start with a Bad Hand!

“Woodblocks?” 

As I roughly sketched the layout of the poster, I explained, “For promoting the play. Drawing each one by hand would take too much time, so I thought we could print them using woodblock prints and plaster them all over the academy.”

Icarus looked a bit troubled, running his fingers through his hair as he replied, “I’ve never done woodblock printing before.”

“It doesn’t need to be complicated. Just the title and here… the characters in these positions I’ve marked. If it’s too difficult, you can just sketch it out, and I’ll handle the carving.”

If he’d never done woodblock printing before, maybe it was better if I did it myself. After all, I had some experience. Well, that was back in elementary school, and it was erasers I carved, not wood…

‘In hindsight, I really did a bit of everything.’

Back then, I thought I was only studying, but looking back, I experienced a variety of activities. Anyway, I know how to play the recorder, and I became an adult who can at least ‘recall’ how to carve an eraser—no, woodblock. Grateful for the diverse educational experiences I had in a harsh environment, I said to Icarus, “Our play is almost in shambles. We got a few new actors and a director, so I had some hope. I really want a lot of people to see it this time. No, they have to see it. Oh, and you don’t need to draw the hair in such detail.”

“How about this?”

Icarus’s profile looked quite serious as he started sketching on the poster layout I had drawn. I alternated between looking at his drawing and the portrait he first drew of me, still stuck to my window. His style had evolved from innovative reassemblies of form to more accurate reproductions. Watching him skillfully create a not overly complex drawing, I murmured, “You’re really good at drawing.”

“…Really? I didn’t put much effort into it.”

“Still, it’s good. Maybe because it looks natural.”

My quiet mumbling made his eyebrows twitch slightly. Though he replied nonchalantly, his hand movements became more confident and brisk.

“I drew whenever I had time… even during expeditions and inspections.”

He tilted his head slightly towards my room’s window. His tone was playful, but it made me feel a bit uncomfortable. I diverted my gaze from his.

“That’s very diligent of you. Keeping it up consistently isn’t easy.”

“When you have a clear subject you want to draw, it’s easier.”

His gaze shifted from me to the drawing beside me. He reached over and tapped my portrait, pinned securely to the wooden window frame, a few times as if dissatisfied.

“Do you have no intention of taking this down?”

“No. I never know when a burglar might break in.”

“…Just know that your answer just now killed my motivation.”

If that’s all it took to break his motivation, it probably wasn’t that strong to begin with. I gently swatted his hand away from the picture stuck to my window and shifted the topic.

“I need this space clear because I’m going to write some text here.”

Pointing to a part of the poster, Icarus, looking like he was willing to let it go, asked, “Is this good enough? What are you going to write?”

I couldn’t bring myself to answer. The phrases awaiting our poster were embarrassingly cheap and petty.

‘Okay. The promotional poster is taken care of.’

I checked the time and headed quickly to my next destination, the person who had promised to repay me no matter what.

“The more people, the better. Please.”

Frank, holding his violin bow, looked a bit troubled.

“Dietrich, it’s true that I promised to help you. And I’m grateful you’re okay with just having the music played for the play.”

Glancing at the sheet music I handed him, Frank continued in a pleading tone. His reaction wasn’t unexpected.

“But we also have our schedules. You know we’re participating in the arts festival too. Asking for so many people without any compensation, even I…”

“No, I’m asking you to connect me with the orchestra members. I don’t have those connections.”

“That’s…”

“I know it’s a difficult favor. And I’m not asking them to perform without compensation.”

Trying to appear adept at these negotiations, I pulled out my checkbook. Frank didn’t recognize it at first, but when he opened it, his eyes widened as he looked at me.

“You have a pen, right?”

I had always wanted to do something like this. Now that I was actually doing it, I felt as nervous as if I were the one receiving the money.

“Write whatever amount you think is fair.”

My voice trembled, barely audible. Damn it.

With the accompaniment problem resolved as if by a spell, I headed to the final person on my list.

‘But how am I supposed to convince her?’

Our last conversation had gone…

“Sorry. You even brought a bouquet, but I’m not sure right now. Things are really busy. Can I give you an answer next week?”

I had postponed my response to Klaus’s invitation to the spring ball. Now that I was desperate, asking for a favor felt a bit shameless.

I waved at Klaus in the distance. Despite my somewhat awkward greeting, Klaus approached me with a bright smile. He seemed a bit disheveled, unlike his usual neat and tidy appearance, perhaps because he had just finished training. As he came closer, covered in dust, a faint earthy smell mingled with the usual scent of grass that clung to him.

“So, if it’s okay with you….”

Klaus listened to my stammering explanation with a serious expression, then responded in a gentle voice as if it was no trouble at all.

“The sheet music you showed me, we’ve all practiced those songs before. Our schedules don’t conflict, so I’ll ask the kids in our group.”

I breathed a sigh of relief at his prompt answer, and Klaus smiled back at me.

“Thanks. You saved me.”

“No problem. I’m glad I could help. I had a lot of fun last time, so it’s a shame I can’t participate this time.”

“You’ve got dirt on you.” I pointed to his cheek, and Klaus, with slightly reddened ears, wiped the dusty spot with his sleeve. “Thanks.” His voice, meeting my gaze, trembled slightly.

“Now I can relax a bit. Have you been busy because of this?”

As I squinted slightly in the bright sunlight, Klaus shaded me with his hand and asked.

“A bit. But it’s okay now that you’re helping.”

Thanks to the shade Klaus provided, I met his eyes and smiled, feeling more comfortable. He then lowered the hand that was blocking the sunlight and rubbed the back of his neck. Even with one hand, the shade was enough. Seeing his hesitation, I stepped back a little and asked, looking at his large hand that hurriedly followed.

“…Do you have something to say to me?”

“Huh?”

“Tell me. If it’s your request, I’ll do anything. You’ve helped me catch my breath, so I’ll do whatever I can.”

As I took a step back, Klaus took a step forward. His Adam’s apple moved slowly, a small motion that shook his entire body. At that moment, Klaus seemed to be moving busily. One hand still shaded me, while the other straightened his clothes and wiped away the already removed dust. I waited for him to speak.

“It feels like I’m taking your favor hostage… I know it’s not proper to ask in such a casual manner….”

“What could you be asking for that’s so serious,” I said with a slight laugh. Klaus lowered his eyebrows and laughed along with me.

“Then… if you have some energy to spare now,” 

At that moment, I remembered the concern I had just before meeting Klaus. As soon as I saw his curved green eyes, I had forgotten about it. But before I could fully collect my thoughts, Klaus, with a mix of resignation and a slightly pitiful expression, spoke to me.

“Then, can I ask for an answer to my question from back then?”

I had no choice but to give him one answer. Damn it.

***

“Hey, snap out of it.”

A cold sensation touched my cheek. The sharp feeling jolted me awake, but my mind didn’t clear quickly. Then the hand on my cheek started to pull at it irritably. Eventually, I opened my half-closed eyes slowly, and Agnes, with an equally gray face, said to me.

“I feel like I’m going to die from exhaustion.”

“Yeah… I’m seriously losing it. I just want to crawl back to the dorm.”

“Then I’ll lie on top of you. You carry me.”

The combination of moderate studying, moderate play preparation, and moderate training felt like it was overloading my brain. I leaned back into my chair, slipping down, and said,

“Why do tasks keep piling up no matter how much we do…?”

“That’s what I’m saying…”

“I just want to lie down and have someone else study, clean, and prepare for the play for me.”

“Oh, exactly!”

Our conversation turned into a series of meaningless complaints, and with my brain half on strike, I began to spit out recent conversations as if copying and pasting rather than coming up with anything new.

“I wish I had a magic toad… I could play while it worked for me…”

“Magic toad? What magic toad…?”

But it seemed that the words that flowed out of my mouth didn’t resonate with Agnes, who was conversing with me almost unconsciously. I added an explanation to my thoughtless remark.

“You know, the Sereti fairy tale. Or, should I say, fairy godmother in Thomple…”

Agnes, half-melting into her chair, glanced at me and said,

“What are you talking about?”

“What?”

I only moved my eyes to look at Agnes, who suddenly seemed full of bewilderment instead of the emptiness of exhaustion.

“The magic toad is from our fairy tale. The fairy godmother and glass slipper are from Sereti’s.”

“What?”

“Are you sure you’re from the Empire? Even if you lived in a remote territory, how could you get that mixed up?”

Her playful jab felt like a splash of cold water, snapping me back to reality.