Longing for the Stars - Chapter 9

It’s a weekday afternoon, and the dining hall is packed with soldiers on the day shift.

Roars of laughter from the men echo everywhere, met by the booming, feminine-style replies from the kitchen. As usual, this place is a total zoo.

However, even in a zoo, the food is delicious. The bread isn’t exactly white bread, but it has a decent texture, and it comes with a soup full of meat and vegetables, plus a main meat dish. I don’t eat very much, so the standard serving is more than enough for me.

But this is a zoo. The vast majority of people here never have enough. That’s why the head chef, a person with a build much larger than most soldiers always says the kitchen is a war zone.

“……Stark.”

“What is it, Yard?”

“Um, Louvre next to you…”

“Who is that?”

Thud. The idiot next to me slams his head onto the table. He must have hit his forehead pretty hard, but I don’t care at all.

“By the way, Yard.”

“Talking to me in this atmosphere is basically a death sentence. How do you feel about that?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Look next to you. He’s been staring at you this whole time.”

“I can’t see him.”

I tear off a bite-sized piece of bread and dip it into the soup. I only learned that this was considered bad manners once I went to the academy. The academy, where enrollment is mandatory for anyone with magic regardless of their background, was full of all kinds of people.

There were country hicks like me, and there were people from ridiculously prestigious bloodlines. I’ve forgotten who first pointed out that I shouldn’t eat this way; it feels like a lifetime ago. I bring the heavy, soup-soaked bread to my mouth. Yes, it’s delicious.

Yard, sitting across from me, lowers his eyebrows uncomfortably.

Yard and I were in the same year at the academy, and we’re close friends. With his short, curly brown hair, tanned skin, and freckled face, he has a certain charm that makes him well-liked in both the academy and the barracks.

True to his gentle looks, Yard has a soft personality and usually looks peaceful, but for the past few days, he’s looked exhausted. I know the reason or rather, I know I am the cause so I feel a bit guilty. Unfortunately, I have no intention of softening my attitude.

“Al…”

“……Stark, look.”

“There is no one next to me. Even if there were, I don’t know him, and it’s none of my business.”

“Oh boy.”

Yard looks at the space next to me with a miserable expression. Actually, I can tell that the people around us are pretending to eat while secretly watching how this unfolds.

To be honest, it would be a lie to say the stares don’t bother me, but again, that’s not my concern.

It’s been a week since the “accident” with Sirius, and I still haven’t spoken a word to him. I won’t meet his eyes; I treat his very existence as if it doesn’t exist. I know it’s childish, but my anger hasn’t faded even after a week.

“…No, but, I mean, look. If it’s not you, Stark, he won’t even try to eat.”

The accident isn’t the only reason my anger persists.

When I let out an obvious sigh, the “statue” next to me flinches.

“…Tell him this. It only makes me angrier.”

If there were a sound for air freezing solid, it would be this.

The corner of the dining hall, usually so noisy, falls dead silent. While no one says a word, I quickly finish my meal. Just as I’m about to finish, I feel the statue next to me slowly stand up and walk toward the kitchen with slumped shoulders.

Yard lets out a very obvious sigh of relief, and everyone else seems to do the same.

“…Stark, listen.”

“Sorry for the trouble. Things will go back to normal eventually.”

“When you say ‘eventually,’ do you have a specific time in mind…?”

I understand that this situation is making everyone walk on eggshells and that it’s not good for it to drag on. Anyone can see that. That’s because Sirius’s motivation is at an all-time low.

“Eventually.”

Even so, I couldn’t bring myself to go back to the way things were just yet.

“Eventually, huh…”

A little later, Sirius returns with a lunch tray and sits down next to me. He looks visibly depressed; usually, he gulps down his food, but now he’s nibbling on it daintily. Catching that in the corner of my eye, I put the last piece of the main steak into my mouth. I chew thoroughly, swallow, and stand up with my dishes as if I have no further business in the dining hall.

Stares full of various meanings pierce my back, but I don’t look back as I take my dishes to the return counter.

“Thank you for the meal.”

“Thanks for clearing your plate again today, Stark-chan! It makes me so happy!”

Bibin-san, the famous head chef, pops his head out from the kitchen. Bibin-san is incredibly sturdy. His biceps look like they’re about to burst. He looks much more like a soldier than I do, but the cute pink ruffled apron he wears lets everyone know he’s the boss here.

“By the way, Stark-chan.”

Bibin-san, his thick lips painted with red lipstick, beckons me closer. I can mostly guess what he’s going to say, but I lean in anyway. Behind me, I hear a loud clatter.

“My, he has no composure at all, that boy. Say, Stark-chan, are you alright?”

“What do you mean by ‘alright’?”

“I mean Louvre-chan. That boy is… well, he’s really something right now.”

“Are you talking about his motivation?”

“No, that’s not it!”

He gives my shoulder a light swat, and I tilt my head. For the past few days, everyone who has talked to me has asked about Sirius’s lack of motivation or what happened between us. Apparently, Bibin-san is different.

Bibin-san looks worried right now. And that worry isn’t directed at Sirius. It’s directed at me.

“Don’t take it too far, now. That boy was never the type who could ‘stay’ when told. if you overdo it, Stark-chan, you’re going to get eaten right down to the bone.”

“…I don’t think he’s a cannibal.”

“Eh?”

Bibin-san’s eyes go as wide as his perfectly shaved head. His eyes are now filled with shock as he looks back and forth between me and the space behind me.

“…Stark-chan, how old were you when you started staying with Louvre-chan?”

“Ten years old.”

“You’ve been together constantly since then…?”

“Yes, pretty much.”

“Same room, too?”

“Yes.”

“What did you do in your private time?”

“? I was always with Sirius. I never knew what he’d get into if I took my eyes off him. Besides, he’s a genius in his own way, so it was stimulating.”

“…Has he ever had a lover?”

“Sirius? …No, not that I know of.”

“And you, Stark-chan…?”

“No. I never felt the need for one.”

“Gah!”

Bibin-san clutches his chest and drops to his knees. As I stare at him in surprise, he stands up shakily as if he’s taken a physical blow and grabs my shoulders again.

“Are you okay…?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I just took a fatal wound from some unexpected ‘Big Love,’ that’s all.”

“Isn’t a fatal wound bad?”

“Stark-chan.”

He calls my name in an unusually calm voice. I give a small reply and look at him. More clattering sounds come from behind me. Bibin-san looks toward the sound with the face of a concerned guardian, then looks back at me with the same expression.

“…I won’t say any more, or I’ll get kicked by a horse, but here’s some advice: don’t be too stubborn. Listen, Stark-chan, Louvre-chan isn’t a puppy; he’s a formidable hound. And right now, he’s probably starving. He’s like a fasting horse with a carrot dangling right in front of him.”

“I’d appreciate it if you picked either a dog or a horse.”

“Let’s go with dog.”

Bibin-san clears his throat loudly, lets go of my shoulders, and points a finger straight up.

“Anyway, don’t be stubborn. If you’re feeling frustrated, talk it out. By the way, the sooner the better. The longer you wait, the hungrier he gets.”

“…I see.”

“I’ve warned you, Stark-chan.”

I give a vague nod as I watch Bibin-san nod deeply with an intensely serious face.

“I wish you luck…!”

Bibin-san gives me a thumbs-up and disappears back into the kitchen. Still confused, I start walking toward the exit. The dining hall was as noisy as ever.