Mistaken for a Masked Munchkin

By Chance, or Maybe Not

"Where were you? All night."

A question that sent a chill straight down his spine.

Javert was watching him with that mineral-cold gaze of hers.

"......"

He couldn't answer right away. Just a quiet exhale.

The silence that followed was precarious, like stepping on the edge of a blade.

He bit his lip quietly.

'Of all people... Javert.'

What were the odds of running into her like this?

Did she know he hadn't been in the dormitory?

And if so, that he'd slipped outside the academy grounds entirely?

'...No.'

Worry bubbled up like foam, but he crushed it just as fast.

There was no way his movements had been tracked. He'd made sure of it,avoiding the eyes of the faculty at every turn, taking only routes that couldn't be detected, leaving no trail to follow.

'So it's a coincidence.'

He cleared his head, cold and deliberate.

Javert had spoken as though she'd been waiting for him. But that was a bluff. She'd simply spotted him while on her night patrol. It made sense,if she'd known his whereabouts from the start, she would have trailed him long before now.

'Don't fall for it.'

In a situation like this, the better play was to act loose and casual. Kill any sign of unease. Behave like someone caught doing something mildly naughty,an ordinary student, found sneaking out for a bit of fun.

"Oh my... P-Professor Javert. I never expected to run into you at this hour."

"Yes. I did not expect to encounter you at this hour either, Viktor."

"Out on a night patrol, I take it?"

"Correct. Before anything else, please answer my question."

"Ah, well..."

Deliberate clumsiness. The look of someone trying to read the room. Every bit of it, calculated.

He answered her, fidgeting.

"The thing is..."

"There's a smell of blood on you."

"Sharp as ever. I was just coming back from a quick hunting trip, you see..."

"Hunting?"

Javert's brow furrowed at the out-of-nowhere answer.

Without another word he reached into his breast pocket and produced the small creature squirming inside. Carmilla, in bat form.

"Would you take a look at this?"

"This is... a spirit creature. The one you mentioned you were taming."

"You remembered! She's become my soul's companion at this point."

He held Carmilla out proudly, like a student who couldn't wait to show off his pet to his homeroom professor.

Maybe it was that guileless energy. The sharp edge in the air between them blunted, just a little.

"Don't let the size fool you. She eats quite a lot. Picky about it too, always wanting fresh blood. So I normally keep a full supply of blood packs on hand for her. But..."

"But?"

"I forgot to restock yesterday."

"So you went out in the middle of the night to get her fresh blood?"

"Normally I'd have waited until morning, but she threw a real fit tonight. Noisy, and she flat-out wouldn't let me sleep. It looked like she wasn't going to stop until the problem was dealt with, so I figured I'd slip out for a quick trip."

"Where did you go for this hunting?"

"The grounds near the main building. She's fond of rabbit monster blood."

"The student hunting grounds. Access is restricted to cadets after midnight. You snuck in?"

"I apologize for that as well..."

He bowed his head. Then moved to back up his story.

"I can prove it, if you'd like."

He made a show of reaching for a bag at his hip, then drew a case from the storage pocket of his robe. Inside, blood packs were packed tight and fresh as if just drawn moments ago.

"You can see for yourself, can't you, Professor? They couldn't be this fresh if they hadn't just been taken."

Evidence. Evidence that said, plain as anything, that he'd spent until minutes ago at the hunting grounds.

'Of course... it's just lucky the pieces fit together.'

Those blood packs had been prepared over a week ago. Drawn and tucked straight into the robe. Time froze for anything kept in the inventory, so freshness never degraded. He'd stocked them all at once because re-drawing blood every time was a hassle. He hadn't expected that habit to pay off quite like this.

"These look like they were drawn within the last hour."

Javert examined the blood packs, then gave a small nod. She handed the case back as if she'd seen enough.

But she threw out one more question as she returned it, her gaze fixed on the hand reaching to receive it.

"How did you injure your hand?"

"Ah..."

Right. Small cuts scattered across it, the hand visibly swollen. Knuckles that had cracked while pummeling the director earlier.

He rubbed at the injury and smiled, a touch sheepish.

"Ha... embarrassing, honestly. While I was hunting, one of them jumped out at me without warning. The area was pitch dark so my visibility was poor. I threw a punch on instinct and it went a little sideways. This is the result."

"Your hand swelled up like that just from hitting a monster?"

"You know how it is, Professor. My overall stats are hovering around E-grade."

"Hmm..."

"My body just isn't very strong to begin with."

"......"

Not a word from Javert.

She probably found it baffling. This was the same student who had played the top of Class C like a toy, now claiming he'd gotten hurt by some E-grade monster.

'But it's true, so what can I do.'

His physical body really was that weak. In terms of raw stats, the man was historically terrible, and not in a good way. As his homeroom teacher, she would know his dismal profile inside and out.

"......"

There was nothing to catch him on.

The tense silence stretched out, then broke when the woman let out a long breath.

"Haah... unauthorized departure after curfew, entry to the student hunting grounds during restricted hours. Per those two violations, I'm issuing twenty penalty points."

"Oh no..."

Nice.

She was pulling back. Suspicion on hold. He nearly let his relief show and swallowed it down at the last second. Right now he was playing Student Who Got Caught Doing Something Dumb.

He asked with just a trace of wounded pride.

"Couldn't you let it slide this once?"

"No. Rules exist to be followed."

"Surely not. It's only been two weeks since enrollment and I already have twenty penalty points..."

"You brought it on yourself. If penalty points accumulate to fifty or more, it may negatively affect your grades. Please be mindful."

"Ugh... you really are strict, Professor."

"I'm simply following the established rules and regulations."

Of course. Right you are. Absolutely correct, Professor.

He savored that privately while Javert stepped closer.

"Give me your hand."

"Pardon?"

"Your hand. Show me the injury."

"Oh...? Yes, here."

Squeeze.

The moment he held it out, fingers laced through his. Rough and worn, but warm skin wrapped around the back of his hand.

Before he could even feel surprised, light bloomed from the woman's fingertips.

Flash!

"Ugh..."

Sudden brightness. Then a faint warmth seeped in, and the small cuts sealed themselves shut. The throbbing ache faded away. Only a soft glow remained.

Javert held that light without looking at him.

"Just a basic treatment."

"Divine energy...?"

"Given how late it is, I'll overlook the timing for now. But make sure you visit the infirmary by tomorrow. Even if you feel no pain, you must go."

"The infirmary? It feels like everything already healed up just now..."

"Protocol. If there's no infirmary record when I check later, additional penalty points will be issued."

"That's excessive...!"

Cold green eyes.

But the warmth from her hands was gentle, and her touch was kind. She finished the treatment carefully and stepped back, ready to return to her rounds.

"That will be enough of a lecture for tonight."

"I'm sorry for the trouble."

"It's fine. More importantly, you're aware that the year practical begins next week?"

"Of course."

"Group assignments start in earnest the day after tomorrow. Take care of yourself. This practical is tied directly to your grades, and other students won't want a partner carrying injuries."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Then I'll see you in the next class."

She turned and left without a backward glance.

In his hand, the faint warmth she'd left behind lingered.

He was turning it over absently when Carmilla bit down on his finger, clearly displeased.

[......Viktor.]

"Oh, Your Highness."

[I am not a glutton.]

"Ah... I apologize. I had no other excuse to reach for."

[With nothing else to sell, you sold your own master. Your disloyalty reaches to the very heavens.]

He coaxed the slightly sulking princess while keeping his eyes on Javert's retreating figure in the distance.

'More or less... she let it go.'

Not completely, though. That wariness hadn't left her eyes, even at the end.

Which suited him fine, actually.

The suspicion she was nursing would find good use soon enough.

He drew in a long breath of night air and started toward his room.

"Haah... what a rough night."

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