Morning came far too quickly.
Rin was vaguely aware of something poking his face—soft, persistent, and utterly determined.
"…Mm."
Poke.
"…Stop…"
Poke, poke.
"Morning, Young Master~"
Rin's eyes snapped open to find Harumi's smiling face hovering dangerously close to his own. Her cheeks were bright, her eyes lively, and she was already dressed neatly in her maid uniform, as immaculate as ever.
"…You're too close," Rin muttered, blinking the sleep from his eyes.
"But you woke up, didn't you?" Harumi replied cheerfully, straightening up. "Mission accomplished."
Rin sat up and rubbed his eyes. His mind was still sluggish, though his body felt perfectly fine—as always. The luxury bed of the imperial palace had been soft enough to swallow him whole, but even so, sleep had been more of a mental escape than a physical necessity.
Harumi clasped her hands behind her back. "Good morning reminder! You're meeting the Emperor today."
Rin froze.
"…Right."
There it was. The weight returned instantly.
After a quick bath, Rin prepared himself while Harumi efficiently laid out his noble attire—formal, dignified, and unmistakably Sumeragi. The clothes themselves carried authority, their subtle patterns and fine stitching screaming prestige without being gaudy.
And, as always—
"Harumi, out."
"Aw—"
"Out."
She pouted dramatically but obeyed, stepping outside the room. The door closed.
Immediately, strange muffled sounds came from the other side.
"…Harumi."
Incomprehensible noises continued.
"No matter what," Rin said firmly while changing at record speed, "I am not letting you in."
The sounds somehow intensified.
Rin finished changing and opened the door—
—to find Harumi standing ramrod straight, sweat trickling down her face, eyes wide with forced composure.
And standing directly behind her, smiling serenely—
Princess Aya.
"…I see," Rin thought calmly. "So that's why."
"Good morning, Rin," Aya greeted warmly. "I hope I'm not intruding."
Princess Aya what brings you here so early? Rin asked politely, inclining his head.
"I came to invite you to breakfast," she replied. "If that's alright."
Rin hesitated. "Shouldn't you be dining with your family, Princess?"
Aya shook her head lightly. "Father is busy with preparations, and my siblings…" She paused, then smiled. "Well, Crown Prince Kazuo is away on a trip, and the others are currently with Mother in the Takigawa Dukedom."
"I see," Rin nodded.
"You may bring your maid as well," Aya added. "You are our guest, after all."
Harumi stiffened.
Rin could practically feel her silent scream behind him. Refusing would be rude. Accepting would place Harumi directly in front of one of the most important characters in the novel.
And refusing would also look suspicious.
"I don't see a problem with that," Rin replied calmly.
Harumi's soul left her body.
And so, the three of them found themselves seated in a quiet dining room filled with soft morning light. Harumi sat beside Rin, posture stiff as a board, while Princess Aya sat across from them, elegant and composed.
Harumi barely touched her food.
Rin leaned slightly toward her and whispered, "You can just eat. I'll handle the princess."
"…Okay," Harumi whispered back, visibly relieved.
As Harumi began eating, Rin noticed Princess Aya watching him intently.
"You're quite gentle with your maid," Aya said.
"We grew up together," Rin replied. "I trust her."
Aya puffed her cheeks slightly. "How lucky she is. To be favored by you."
Rin understood the implication immediately.
I want that too.
His grip on his utensils tightened.
Silence followed.
Aya sighed softly. "How is the food? Is it to your taste?"
"It's delicious," Rin said honestly.
The meal passed quietly after that.
When they finished, Aya smiled politely. "I'm glad. I wasn't sure what you preferred, so I asked the chefs to be careful."
"You didn't have to go that far, Princess," Rin said.
"I should do at least this much," Aya replied gently. "After all, I want to befriend the future Duke Sumeragi."
Harumi glanced at Rin from the corner of her eye.
Rin set his cup down slowly.
"I appreciate your kindness, Princess Aya," he said carefully. "But I simply cannot be friends with you."
The words landed heavily.
Aya's smile faltered.
"…May I ask why?"
Rin met her gaze. "Let's just say that becoming friends is a chain I don't wish to put on either of us. I'm fine talking with you. Interacting. But friendship… is something I don't want."
Aya looked down at the table.
"So… we can talk," she murmured, "but not be friends?"
"Yes."
"I don't understand," she admitted quietly.
It hurt—but not enough to make her cry this time. Instead, confusion clouded her expression, mixing with disappointment.
Rin held her gaze. "I just don't want us to be friends. That is all."
Aya clenched her hands in her lap.
"…I see. I guess I'm not cut out to be someone's friend."
Rin felt something twist in his chest.
"That's not it," he said softly. "You're just… looking in the wrong place."
Aya looked up.
"One day," Rin continued, "you'll find someone who can stand beside you properly. Someone who won't hesitate to reach out. As for me, Princess… I'm not someone who can be that person for you."
Silence lingered.
Then—
Aya smiled.
It was gentle. Polite.
And undeniably sad.
"I understand," she said quietly. "Thank you for being honest with me."
She stood, smoothing her dress. "Please prepare yourself. We'll be meeting Father soon."
Rin nodded.
As she turned to leave, her smile never wavered—
—but it lingered just a little too long, as if she were holding something back.
And Rin watched her go, knowing full well—
He had done the right thing.
Even if it hurt.
Time passed quickly after breakfast.
Before Rin could even fully settle his thoughts, imperial servants arrived to escort him toward the heart of the palace—the Imperial Courtroom, where his barrier device would be presented before the highest authority of the Hoshimi Empire.
Princess Aya accompanied him partway, stopping just before the massive doors that led inside. From here, she would be watching from the elevated seats reserved for the imperial family and honored observers.
"Good luck, Rin," she said softly.
Her smile was gentle, composed, and perfectly befitting a princess—but there was still a trace of sadness lingering beneath it. Despite everything, she had fulfilled her duty without complaint, guiding him, hosting him, and seeing him through to this moment.
Rin bowed slightly. "Thank you for your hospitality, Princess Aya. I'll do my best."
She nodded once, then turned and ascended the stairs toward the viewing seats, her figure soon disappearing beyond the marble balustrade.
As soon as she was gone, Harumi visibly relaxed.
"…Ugh. I can never get used to that," she muttered under her breath.
Rin glanced at her. "You're treated well by the Sumeragi family—by me especially. You should remember sometimes that you're a commoner."
"That's not what I meant!" Harumi pouted, crossing her arms. "She's a novel character, Young Master. I'm just an extra! You can interact with them because you're… well, you."
"You won't die, Harumi," Rin replied flatly.
"Hmph! Not taking my chances," she shot back. "My life is important. Yours too."
Rin sighed. "You're probably already imagining yourself as my future employee while I'm stuck in front of the novel's main cast."
"Exactly," Harumi replied proudly. "Because you're strong and capable!"
Rin raised a hand and lightly chopped her on the head.
"Stop wasting time and help me prepare. You're my assistant today."
"Ow! Okay!" Harumi rubbed her head, but she was already moving, hands quick and efficient as ever.
Together, they checked the barrier device one final time—its core stable, mana conduits intact, activation seals properly engraved. Despite its compact size, the device carried a weight far beyond its physical form. It represented something revolutionary: protection without magic, safety without birthright.
An imperial servant knocked on the door.
"Sumeragi Rin-sama. It is time. Please follow me to the courtroom."
Rin straightened.
Harumi smiled at him, softer now. "Enough about novels for today. Let's just make sure you present your device properly and don't embarrass yourself, Young Master."
"That's why you're here," Rin replied. "You have a very important role."
Her eyes narrowed. "That sounds like an order I'm going to hate."
"Naturally."
And with that, they followed the servant.
The Imperial Courtroom was vast.
Towering marble pillars lined both sides, carved with reliefs depicting the founding of the Hoshimi Empire—emperors, heroes, magicians, and scholars standing side by side. The floor gleamed beneath polished crystal chandeliers that reflected light like frozen stars.
At the far end of the chamber sat the throne.
Seated upon it was Hoshimi Masaki, Emperor of the Hoshimi Empire.
He was neither young nor frail—his presence alone commanded silence. His hair was streaked with silver, his eyes sharp and observant, carrying the weight of decades spent ruling an empire that balanced power, politics, and magic. His posture was relaxed, but Rin could feel it—this was a man who missed nothing.
Around him stood ministers, nobles, and court officials, their gazes fixed on the young heir being escorted forward.
Above, in the viewing gallery, Princess Aya sat quietly, hands folded in her lap, watching.
Rin's eyes flicked briefly to the side—
—and there he was.
Duke Sumeragi Arata.
His father stood among the high-ranking nobles, expression calm and unreadable as always. Yet Rin knew him well enough to understand—Arata would not be here unless this mattered deeply.
Rin exhaled slowly.
So you came, Father.
He stepped forward and knelt, placing one hand over his chest in proper form.
"Sumeragi Rin greets His Imperial Majesty."
"Rise," Emperor Masaki said.
Rin stood.
The Emperor studied him for a moment longer than necessary, his gaze sharp and measuring.
"So," Masaki spoke at last, "you are the son Arata speaks so highly of."
Rin bowed his head slightly. "I am honored, Your Majesty."
"I have been told," the Emperor continued, "that you have created a device capable of forming a defensive barrier without the use of magic."
A murmur rippled through the court.
Rin felt the weight of countless eyes settle on him.
"Yes, Your Majesty," he replied calmly. "Though it is still a prototype."
"Bold," Masaki said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "And dangerous, if false."
Rin did not flinch.
"I understand."
Silence followed.
Above, Princess Aya leaned forward slightly.
Duke Arata's gaze never left his son.
Rin straightened his posture, hands steady.
This is it, he thought.
Time to step onto the stage.
And so, before the heart of the empire—
Rin Sumeragi prepared to change everything.
Rin began his presentation calmly, his voice carrying through the vast imperial courtroom.
First, he explained the device's basic operation.
At its core, the barrier device was simple to use even for non-magicians. A single activation button initiated deployment, while a circular rotation control panel adjusted the coverage radius. By turning the dial, the user could precisely determine the size of the protected area.
However, simplicity on the outside did not mean simplicity within.
"To explain how this device functions," Rin continued, "I must address three key challenges."
He raised one finger.
"First: how to power a barrier without relying on magicians."
A second finger followed.
"Second: how to make it compact and portable."
Then a third.
"And finally: how to convert that power into a stable barrier."
A quiet murmur spread across the court. Everyone present understood the difficulty of such a task.
"As we know," Rin said, "most barriers in use today require massive installations and constant maintenance."
His gaze shifted briefly toward the high windows overlooking the capital.
"The Golden Barrier of the Imperial Capital is a prime example. It covers the entire city and requires over a hundred lightning magicians working in shifts, continuously pouring mana into Crystalline cores."
The officials nodded in agreement.
Lightning magic was widely regarded as the most efficient element for mana conversion. Other elements could be used, but none matched lightning's stability or output when powering barriers.
"Crystalline crystals," Rin continued, "are rechargeable and highly efficient—but also rare. They often serve as the backbone of entire territories."
Again, agreement rippled through the audience.
"But recent research," Rin said, "has revealed a different kind of crystal—one with an entirely separate purpose."
He spread his hands slightly.
"Magmalite."
The name alone stirred interest.
"As we know, Magmalite absorbs heat from its base and releases it from its upper surface. It has already been adopted for household heating due to its exceptional heat retention."
Rin paused.
"However, Magmalite possesses another, far more valuable property."
He activated his technique.
"Magic Technique: Infinity Room."
Space warped beside him, folding inward like rippling water. From the distortion emerged a device no larger than half his height. Its metallic surface gleamed under the court's lights.
Rin opened the casing, revealing a hand-sized Magmalite crystal secured by reinforced rods.
"The absorption rate of Magmalite is extraordinary," Rin explained. "When exposed to heat, it draws it in almost instantaneously."
He gestured to the rods extending from the crystal.
"These rods are filled with water—a substance capable of retaining vast amounts of thermal energy."
The rods ran through the device, connecting to a smaller Crystalline crystal.
"The process is as follows," Rin said. "Heat absorbed by the Magmalite turns the water within the rods into steam. That steam drives a rotating blade, which turns a series of magnets."
A few scholars leaned forward.
"This mechanical motion generates lightning. That lightning is then absorbed by the Crystalline crystal, which powers the barrier using conventional barrier formation methods."
Rin pressed the activation button.
A translucent dome expanded outward, enclosing an area roughly twenty meters by twenty meters.
Gasps echoed through the courtroom.
"Now, as for sustainability," Rin continued evenly.
"After driving the turbine, the steam is guided back down toward the Magmalite. There, the heat is rapidly absorbed once more, condensing the steam back into water."
He traced the cycle with a finger in the air.
"This constant pressure change keeps the water circulating. Heat loss is minimal due to the speed of absorption and conversion."
Rin met the emperor's gaze.
"A Magmalite crystal of this size can power the barrier for approximately eight hours."
The court erupted into noise.
Eight hours. Portable. No magicians required.
Eventually, a voice rang out, sharp with skepticism.
"But how strong is this barrier?"
Rin inclined his head slightly.
"It has not yet been tested under combat conditions," he admitted. "However, there is no better place than the Imperial Court for such a demonstration."
His eyes shifted to the side.
"For accuracy, the test requires a living subject inside the barrier."
A beat passed.
Harumi froze.
Slowly, all eyes turned toward her.
She trembled, her hands clenched at her sides as realization dawned.
"T-this is a joke… right?" she whispered.
Rin avoided her gaze.
"…For good measure," he said calmly, "my assistant will stand inside the barrier during testing."
Harumi's soul visibly left her body.
Rin placed a steadying hand on Harumi's shoulders before the test began.
"Hey," he said quietly, lowering his voice so only she could hear. "You helped build this. Every calculation, every adjustment—we did it together. Trust yourself. Trust us."
Harumi swallowed, her fingers curling into fists. For a moment, fear flickered in her eyes—but then she nodded.
"…Alright," she said, forcing a smile. "If something happens, I'm haunting you."
"Fair enough," Rin replied dryly.
With that, Harumi stepped forward and entered the barrier's designated area. The faint shimmer of the deployed field wrapped around her like transparent glass, humming softly as mana stabilized.
Only then did she realize something was very, very wrong.
The magicians selected for the test weren't ordinary court casters.
They were elite.
Four stepped forward, each representing one of the four primary elements most commonly used in combat magic: Fire, Water, Earth, and Lightning. Their mana pressure alone was enough to make lesser nobles stiffen in their seats.
Harumi's face went pale.
"…Young master," she whispered, barely audible, "you didn't tell me they'd be this strong."
Rin adjusted the device calmly. "Controlled output," he replied. "They won't overdo it."
That did not comfort her in the slightest.
Before the test commenced, Rin raised a hand to address the court.
"As a point of reference," he began, "allow me to briefly explain how magical strength is measured."
The murmuring nobles quieted.
"Each magic technique possesses a defined spell set. Rarer techniques often have broader or more specialized arsenals—but rarity alone does not determine strength."
He tapped the device lightly.
"What matters is mastery."
The air seemed to sharpen as he continued.
"Spells are classified by the Star System, ranging from Star One to Star Nine. The difference between each rank is exponential. A Star One fireball is little more than a concentrated flame the size of one's hands. A Star Five fireball, however, is dense enough to engulf a room—and obliterate everything inside it."
A few nobles inhaled sharply.
"For reference," Rin added casually, "during the bandit incident, my own magic technique was used at Star One. If I had raised it to Star Two, casualties would have been unavoidable."
That single statement sent a ripple through the audience.
At Rin's signal, the magicians began.
The Fire Mage struck first—an orange flare slamming into the barrier with a thunderous impact. The barrier rippled… but held.
Next came Water, compressed and sharpened like a blade. Then Earth, a crushing mass meant to test structural integrity. Finally, Lightning, crackling violently as it struck the surface.
All were Star Three spells.
Harumi squeezed her eyes shut.
Nothing happened.
The barrier absorbed the attacks, its surface shimmering but unbroken.
Rin nodded in approval. "As expected. Star Three poses no issue."
Then the Star Four spells came.
The moment they struck, sharp cracks spiderwebbed across the barrier's surface.
Harumi screamed. "H-HIEEEEEK!"
The court leaned forward as one.
The barrier trembled… but did not shatter.
Rin's gaze sharpened. "Star Four is the limit at twenty meters," he concluded. "Harumi—reduce the range to ten."
"T-Ten?!" she squeaked.
"Now."
With trembling hands, Harumi adjusted the control panel. The barrier shrank inward, tightening its field.
"Again," Rin said.
The magicians complied.
Star Four slammed into the reduced barrier.
This time—it held.
Cleanly.
Then came Star Five.
The impact rang like a bell struck by a god.
For a heartbeat, silence.
Then the barrier fractured—and dissipated.
Harumi collapsed to her knees inside the fading field, unharmed but shaking violently.
The court erupted.
Star Five spells were rare. Mages capable of wielding them were considered national assets.
And the device had nearly endured.
"That is sufficient," Rin said, raising a hand.
He approached Harumi and offered her his hand. "It's over. You did great."
She grabbed his sleeve instead, glaring up at him through watery eyes. "You owe me. Deeply."
"I'll add it to the list," he replied.
The murmuring turned into full discussion.
"This device alone could change night defenses—"
"Portable barriers without magicians—"
"Star Five resistance at ten meters—"
At the center of it all, Emperor Hoshimi Masaki watched in silence.
Finally, he spoke.
"To achieve this at fifteen…" the Emperor said slowly, turning toward Duke Arata. "You have raised an extraordinary son."
Arata bowed deeply. "I am honored by Your Majesty's words."
Rin was summoned forward once more.
When asked about production, Rin answered honestly. "This remains a prototype. Refinement is necessary before mass production."
"And what do you require?" the Emperor asked.
"Material support," Rin replied. "Crystalline ore refinement, in particular."
The Emperor nodded.
Then came the pivotal question.
"Will you make this research exclusive?"
Rin shook his head. "No, Your Majesty. The theory is public knowledge."
The court gasped.
Rin smiled faintly.
They don't understand, he thought. Even with the blueprint, replicating the precision of these rods—the tolerances, the pressure balance, the thermal cycling—will take at least a decade.
Science from his first life was his greatest advantage.
The court mistook his confidence for naïveté.
Rin bowed. "Thank you for your time."
And left.
Back in the room, Harumi stormed beside him.
"Idiot young master!" she snapped. "What did I do to deserve that?!"
"Nothing," Rin replied calmly. "I just felt like it."
She pointed accusingly. "That's abuse of authority! I demand a raise!"
"You're already overpaid," Rin countered. "Fifth highest salary in the Sumeragi household. First, if benefits are counted."
"Hmph!"
She flopped onto his bed. "Beds are amazing…"
Rin stared at her with visible disdain.
Then—
Knock. Knock.
A familiar voice followed.
"Rin… may I come in?"
Princess Aya.
Both Rin and Harumi froze—and slowly turned to look at the door.
Rin opened the door to find Princess Aya standing just outside, hands neatly folded, wearing her usual gentle smile.
"May I come in?" she asked softly. Then, as if afraid of being misunderstood, she added far too quickly, "Ah—this isn't about the friendship thing from yesterday."
Rin blinked once, then stepped aside. "Of course. Please."
Aya entered, her gaze briefly flicking to Harumi. Harumi, who had been sprawled comfortably on Rin's bed only moments ago, snapped instantly into proper posture. She cleared her throat, straightened her uniform, and pulled out a chair with crisp efficiency.
"Please, Your Highness," Harumi said formally.
Aya nodded her thanks and sat.
Rin closed the door and leaned casually against the wall. "So… if it's not about friendship, is this about the barrier device?"
Aya hesitated, then nodded. "In a way. It's more accurate to say… I'm here to recruit you."
"…Recruit me?" Rin tilted his head.
"Yes," Aya replied, meeting his eyes. "To the Student Council of the Imperial Academy."
For a brief moment, the room went completely silent.
Harumi's eyes widened.
Rin's expression remained calm—but internally, he froze.
Student Council?
In the novel, being recruited by Princess Aya herself was a huge honor. A guaranteed rise in influence. A fast track into the central cast. A role that shaped academy politics, events, and—most dangerously—relationships.
Of course, Rin didn't consciously know all of that yet.
But something in his instincts screamed danger.
"I'm not even enrolled yet, Princess," Rin said carefully.
Aya smiled, clearly having anticipated the response. "With what you demonstrated today, early recruitment isn't strange at all. In fact, it's expected. You're already considered a prime candidate."
Rin didn't answer immediately.
Aya continued, her tone warm but persuasive. "There are many perks to being on the Student Council. Naturally, there's work involved—but it grants influence, authority, and freedom most students don't have."
Rin exhaled slowly.
He glanced at Harumi.
She met his eyes—and subtly shook her head.
Don't join.
Rin straightened. "Could you explain the Student Council in more detail, Princess?"
Aya's eyes lit up slightly, encouraged by his interest.
"The Student Council of the Imperial Academy is composed of students who have either made a significant impact or passed an extremely rigorous selection process," she explained. "They oversee academy affairs, resolve disputes, manage events, and even influence policy within the school."
She paused, then smiled a little sheepishly.
"You can think of me as the head—like a miniature emperor. The council functions like a court, though much less… imposing."
"That sounds like a lot of work," Rin said. "Wouldn't it interfere with your classes?"
Aya chuckled softly. "That's where the perks come in. Council members may choose which classes to attend. Attendance requirements are flexible, and exams are… adjusted."
"Adjusted?"
"Yes. Council members automatically receive half the total points for an exam. That means even answering only half correctly results in a perfect score."
Harumi stiffened.
Rin went still.
That's absurd.
Which only meant one thing.
The workload must be insane.
Rin looked at Harumi again.
This time, she wasn't just shaking her head—she was silently begging him with her eyes.
Aya folded her hands politely. "If you accept, I'll personally guarantee you the position of First-Year Student Representative once you enroll."
Harumi nearly choked.
That position carried voting power, authority in meetings, and influence even over the so-called "main cast."
Rin would be able to steer events.
Change outcomes.
Avoid dangers.
…Or attract every single one of them.
Aya watched him carefully. "So, Rin… will you join?"
Rin inhaled.
"It's a wonderful offer," he said honestly. "Anyone would be honored."
Aya's face brightened—
"I must refuse."
The words cut cleanly through the air.
Aya froze.
"Oh…" She blinked. "May I ask why?"
Rin hesitated.
He needed a reason. A convincing one.
He replayed every interaction he'd had with her.
Yesterday's request to be friends.
Her persistent kindness.
The way she naturally drew attention.
And the one truth that never changed—
She is a novel character.
"I'll be direct," Rin said quietly. He met her eyes without flinching. "It's because you're there, Princess."
"…Huh?"
"I know this isn't like yesterday," Rin continued. "And I know I said I'm fine with talking—not being friends. But your existence… is difficult for me."
Aya's breath caught.
"I don't hate you," Rin said quickly. "Quite the opposite. I'm glad you think highly of me. Truly. But being near you too often… I can't stand it."
Aya's mind raced.
He doesn't hate me.
He doesn't want to be friends.
He can't stay near me.
But he's happy I value him.
Her cheeks warmed.
Is he saying… he's troubled because he feels something?
"Princess—" Rin began.
But Aya stood abruptly.
She turned toward the door, her face hidden by her hair.
"I understand," she said softly. "Please don't worry. I truly understand."
Rin's eyes widened. "Wait—"
"If you change your mind," Aya continued, opening the door, "the position will remain open. Just for you, Rin."
And then she was gone.
The door closed a little too quickly.
Silence.
Harumi stared at Rin, mouth opening and closing uselessly.
"…Rin. You—what did you just do?"
"What?" Rin frowned. "I clarified boundaries. Nothing more."
Harumi slowly lowered her gaze, eyes hollow. "I'm not worried about the novel anymore."
"Good."
"I'm worried about her."
Rin waved it off. "She knows we won't be friends. That's enough."
"…You're unbelievable."
Rin stretched. "Anyway, since we're free until tomorrow, let's explore the Imperial Capital."
Harumi groaned. "Young master, I'm exhausted. Please let me rest."
"We're in the capital," Rin said firmly, grabbing her hand. "I'm an heir—I rarely get to sneak out. Come on. I'll buy you food."
Her eyes lit up instantly. "Yay! I love you, young master!"
"…Your affection is very cheap."
"Food-based loyalty is still loyalty."
Rin smirked. "Close the door and put up a 'Do Not Disturb' sign."
"Yes!"
And just like that, they slipped out—unaware that somewhere down the hall, Princess Aya stood alone, hand pressed to her chest, replaying his words again and again.