The staff mber stood quietly nearby, his eyes scanning him from top to bottom, as if trying to see so sign of suffering.
Cyril stood as calmly as ever. His blue eyes still had that sa coldness. If anything, they seed clearer than before sohow.
"Is there anything else I need to do?"
"No... You are free to go," the staff mber muttered with so reluctance.
With that, the staff mber quickly walked away, as if escaping.
Cyril then looked at the small crowd nearby, narrowing his eyes.
"What's wrong?"
Imdiately the students dispersed, or pretended to disperse. People walked a certain distance, acting as if they were busy with sothing while obviously still paying attention to his situation. They needed to know what went on inside.
"Do they not have anything better to do?"
Cyril looked away from others, turning towards Myra in front of him. The auburn-haired girl stared at him transfixed, her eyes trying to make sure of sothing.
But unlike the others, her gaze was worried, making it sowhat harder to endure.
He stepped closer to her, about to say sothing, but soone dashed in his way.
"How did it go, Thorne?"
It was an upperclassman, judging by his uniform. The man sent him a deep, understanding gaze, almost as if they were longti friends.
Do we know him?
"No."
As Cyril kept his silence, only staring at him in confusion, the man continued.
"It must've been hard, right? I can understand you. I've been in that room myself." The man nodded, his gaze warm.
His face seed relaxed, but his loud, tense heartbeat betrayed his actual state.
"I said that, but there is a problem. I don't rember anything from my ti there. When people ask what happened in there, I just don't know what to say..."
The man swallowed quietly. He acted friendly, but his eyes carefully stared at him, as if trying to say sothing. The small crowd around them leaned closer, fully paying attention.
A few other upperclassn stood closely behind him, all silently staring at him, as if scared of sothing Cyril might bring.
"...?"
The upperclassman smiled wider and continued speaking sowhat nervously. "Do- do you rember what happened there? I am a bit curious myself about what went on in there, ha-haha."
Other remaining spectators all raised their ears, paying attention to Cyril's words with curiosity.
The upperclassn in front of him glanced at the curious crowd, then blinked at him repeatedly, sweat trickling down their foreheads.
I see...
"Hahahaha! It really is like that!"
As he heard their heartbeats intensify even more, Cyril finally opened his mouth.
"Principal Margaret created that room through illusion magic. Perhaps when you leave, all mories are wiped out."
He didn't say he didn't rember what happened, he just made a guess he knew with certainty was wrong. To the spectators, however, it appeared as if admitting to losing mory as well.
A wave of disappointnt went through the crowd. What did they gather here for then? Just to stare at a silly-looking door?
Most of the spectators began leaving, dissatisfaction on their faces.
However, the faces of the upperclassn were a stark difference. Their eyes lit up, as if looking at their savior.
"Haha! Right?! Illusion magic! That must be it!" They looked at each other and laughed, their voices a mix of desperation and relief.
"You are really smart to have figured that out!" The man put a hand on Cyril's shoulder, his eyes showing deep appreciation.
"You are alright, Thorne."
Cyril remained silent for a few seconds, taking in the genuinely friendly deanor.
"...Thank you," he mumbled, pulling the hand on his shoulder away.
"Haha! Well, if you ever need help, just ask! We are brothers now!"
The upperclassn waved to him and slowly disappeared, their footsteps light and easy.
"Poor souls... Let's ask Margaret if she has records of what they did in there!"
No…
Cyril shook his head and stepped towards the shocked Myra, Rose now standing near her.
"Do you honestly not rember what happened inside?" Rose asked, her face sharing the disappointnt of the people.
Cyril kept his silence, only sending her a quiet gaze.
Rose rolled her eyes, then nudged Myra nearby with an elbow, making her imdiately exclaim.
"Right! Cyril, how are you feeling?"
"The sa as ever. It wasn't anything bad," he replied, earning him a helpless stare from Rose.
He doesn't rember but knows it wasn't bad? Accusation was written on her face, but he ignored it.
Myra stared into his blue eyes, then slowly nodded.
"That's good..." She gave a long, relieved sigh. Seemingly a mountain was lifted off her shoulders.
Cyril looked at the dark sky visible outside the window.
"Now I have to go see Margaret. See you tomorrow."
"To ask for the records?"
No.
He waved them goodbye and began walking towards the nearest stairs.
Myra silently stood in place, following his departing back with relaxed eyes.
Rose patted her shoulder with an 'I-told-you-so' expression and the eyes of a mother staring at her overly worried child.
Myra shrugged off her hand, pouting at her.
...
"So, how did it go?" Margaret asked with interest, her thin smile widened.
In no ti at all he reached the principal's office, where Margaret waited for him sitting by her desk.
Cyril sat in the chair in front of her, enduring the scanning gaze he seemingly felt from her.
"...Did you enjoy yourself?" she asked again, her voice holding mischief.
"I did."
"You don't know what happens in that room?" Cyril replied, his voice no longer holding the sa respect it might've earlier.
"Of course I don't. I am not so voyeur. You know, that room wasn't supposed to be a punishnt initially."
She chuckled and relaxed in her chair, her voice becoming distant.
"In the past there was this one exceptional student. I thought he seed sowhat distracted or pent-up."
Her thin smile turned warr as she reminisced about the tis long gone.
"So we made that room and sent him there as a reward for being at the top of the rankings. Haha, after he ca out, he went straight to , begging to not send any other student there. I really didn't think he would react that strongly, hehe. We had quite the laugh back then."
Although the contents were shady, it was a typical warming story from a nostalgic old woman. However, sothing within it caught his attention.
"'We'?"
"Yes. Back then I was only starting to learn illusion magic. I didn't know a lot of things, so I had to ask for help from Magdalene. Those were the days."
That room was made with the help of my mother...?
The realization put a sour taste in his mouth. Discovering the stranger chapters of your parents' past was always sowhat uncomfortable.
"As expected of your mother. She is a genius."
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