The Gacha Addict of the Academy

“….”

“Huh? Why do you look so upset?”

When I returned to the infirmary, the teacher noticed my expression and asked why I seemed upset. Explaining that I had messed up opening a triangle kimbap and ended up eating it without the seaweed seemed ridiculous, so I just said it was nothing and sat down in a chair.

“Did you have lunch?”

“I had a triangle kimbap from the convenience store.”

“You… well, fine. What about mine?”

“…. Oh, right.”

“…. Of course. I must be a fool for asking you. I’ll go get something to eat.”

With a deep sigh, the teacher left to get lunch but came back shortly after. They asked me to return the money they had given me, so I handed it over. They snatched it quickly and left again.

See? This is why you shouldn’t rely on me.

Even if I had really tried to buy it, I’m still a student and wouldn’t have been able to purchase it. In a way, it’s like I deliberately couldn’t do it. So it’s not my fault. They probably realized it too late after asking me to get it.

…Then again, judging from the fact that they asked if I brought it, maybe they didn’t realize it at all.

Anyway, as strange as it sounds, it’s not entirely wrong.

Thinking that, I stared out the window.

Outside, kids my age were happily wandering around.

Me too…

“….”

I felt bad.

The longer I looked, the worse I felt, so I closed the curtain over the window. Normally, seeing this wouldn’t bother me much, but for some reason, just looking at it today made me annoyed. It wasn’t exactly something I wanted to see, but even on other days, it never irritated me this much.

Why does everything irritate me so much today?

“… Maybe I’ll just sleep.”

I’m just an assistant here. No one would complain if I took a nap, so it should be fine. Thinking that, I went over to the bed and lay down.

As long as no one wakes me up, it’ll be fine.

“Haah…”

No one woke me up.

After smoothing out my slightly messy hair, I checked the clock and saw that only two hours had passed. Still, getting some rest made me feel much better than before.

“This bed is really something else.”

I’m not a magician, so I don’t know what kind of spell was cast on it, but the fact that such a perfect bed could be created purely with magic is incredible.

Knock, knock.

“… Who is it?”

Was the teacher back?

The door opened, and I was about to ask what took them so long, but I stopped.

Standing there was Luna Crystal, with dirt smeared all over her and blood trickling down her leg. Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears. Never mind why she was crying; judging by the blood on her leg, it was clearly a wound from falling down.

“…. Didn’t you just come here earlier?”

“….”

“And now you’re back with an injury?”

Without answering my question, she approached me.

Up close, it was evident that she had taken quite a tumble. She was trying to appear composed, but the tear stains suggested otherwise. This morning, she came to nap, but now she’d really injured herself. I hadn’t expected that at all.

As much as I didn’t want to use my ability on her, I had no choice if I wanted to heal her wound.

… Hopefully, she won’t hate me for it.

“… Show me the wound.”

“Okay…”

Following my instruction, she sat in a chair and lifted her leg to reveal the injury.

She had really taken a nasty fall—it was pretty badly scraped. Normally, this kind of wound would leave a scar, but with a bit of effort, I could make it heal without too much trouble.

“… What I’m about to say isn’t sincere, so don’t take it personally.”

I spoke seriously, almost as if I were pleading with her.

Most people tilt their heads in confusion when I say this, wondering what I’m talking about. Then, depending on their personality, they either get amused, annoyed, angry, scared, or retaliate with insults of their own.

Some even thank me on the surface but mutter complaints about why the insults were necessary.

She’ll probably…

“… You idiot.”

I said it.

For the healing to work, I had to genuinely insult her. It’s paradoxical, but the insults had to come from the heart for the magic to activate.

The moment I insulted her, light emanated from the wound, and new skin began to form. With just one insult, the injury healed almost instantly.

Of course, while the wound itself was healed, the blood from it wasn’t cleaned up. I wiped away the dried blood. Now, all that was left was to deal with the dirt and sand stuck to her here and there…

“It’s not my problem.”

“Treatment’s done. Write your name in the log and head out.”

I said that and turned away.

Normally, for a wound like this, it would require disinfection and a prescription for magic-infused medical supplies before sending the patient off. But since I’m not a school nurse, using my ability to heal her was more efficient.

More importantly, magic tools often leave scars.

Even if this made her resent me, I didn’t care.

If that’s all it took, it would mean we were never that close to begin with.

“Um… I came this morning too… so, should I write my name again?”

Ah.

Even though she had already signed the log earlier, each visit still needed to be recorded for documentation purposes. Since I already knew her name, I could write it later myself. Feeling lazy, I told her she could leave.

After hesitating briefly, the girl said it wasn’t a big deal and hurried over to the log to sign her name. This time, she managed to write it correctly—albeit in slightly shaky handwriting: Luna Crystal.

… Her handwriting’s awful.

“… Luna, right?”

“Yes… why?”

Strange.

Most people either ask why I insulted them, thank me while complaining behind my back, or criticize me outright. Then again, there’s no guarantee this girl doesn’t secretly badmouth me too.

But still, I wonder why.

Despite her small frame and timid nature—always looking frightened and cowering—she wasn’t fazed by my insults. Instead, she genuinely seemed grateful. I’ve seen enough people to know when someone’s truly thankful.

… Why?

If simply grabbing her by the nape would terrify her, wouldn’t my earlier insults have been enough to make her run away?

I spoke, unable to hide my curiosity.

“… It’s surprising you’re not scared. Most people appreciate the treatment but get angry or frightened because of the insults. Afterward, they avoid me altogether.”

I tried to make it clear that I wasn’t being serious, though I said it with my usual flat tone, which might have come off as cold.

This was a necessary performance for my ability to work, so I was used to insulting others.

Even to the point where I could curse my own parents to their faces.

But even as I said this, it left an uncomfortable feeling in my chest.

I knew my ability could save lives, and I understood it required genuine insults to activate. While insults might seem trivial, they’d caused me a lot of grief.

I’ve been misunderstood, resented, and even sued for defamation just for using my ability to heal someone. Though I never lost a case—my ability’s mechanics made that impossible—it was hard to dismiss the burden as “just insults.”

This girl… surely she felt scared hearing my words?

Even if she didn’t, she must’ve been at least a little upset.

It’s ridiculous.

To heal someone, I have to insult them?

“….”

Would she start to dislike me?

No… with her personality, she’d probably claim it was fine, but I couldn’t shake the thought that she might be disappointed. Either way, part of me wished she would ignore my words and just leave. It’d be better than hearing her say something I didn’t want to hear.

“Well… it didn’t feel like you really meant it.”

Not genuine?

I didn’t mean it?

I was certain my insults were genuine—otherwise, my ability wouldn’t have activated. Since it was tied to my inherent magical power, self-deception was impossible.

“And… you told me not to take it personally because you didn’t mean it. That’s why I wasn’t scared.”

“……”

What a contradiction.

Perhaps she was only saying this to spare my feelings. For all I knew, she could leave and complain about me being insufferable.

But still…

“Um… I’m sorry if I overstepped by saying that—”

“No, don’t apologize. It’s nothing.”

“… Huh?”

I didn’t expect such words from someone who seemed so naïve.

That clueless girl… someone who didn’t seem capable of harboring resentment or hatred. I couldn’t imagine her speaking ill of me. Even though we’d only met a few hours ago, I felt strangely sure of it.

I didn’t know why.

Still…

“If you get hurt again, come back here. I’ll treat you.”

“Oh…”

“Now go.”

Maybe… I could believe in her, just this once.

For some reason, that thought crossed my mind.