Never Die Villain

"It’s about time for us to leave."

Ilya looked at her with a puzzled expression.

"...I thought you said no one ever comes here."

"At night, yes," Vera replied. "But it’s morning now, and you’ve been screaming far louder than you seem to realize. At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if people walking outside the carnival grounds could hear you."

"...."

With that, the lesson came to an end. After putting everything back in order and cleaning up the area they had used, the two of them left the abandoned carnival and made their way back into the city.

Not long afterward, they arrived at Vera’s apartment.

It had been quite some time since Ilya had last set foot there. Without waiting for any instructions, he reached for the light switch the moment they entered the place, slipped off his shoes, and began making himself at home.

Then, out of habit, he started taking off his shirt.

Vera looked at him with a frown. "What do you think you’re doing?"

Ilya paused halfway through unbuttoning his pants.

"...Getting ready for the ice bath?"

"No ice baths today."

Vera picked up the shirt he had already tossed onto the floor and handed it back to him.

"I’ll be honest with you. When I found you on that mountain, your body had already entered a severe state of hypothermia. You’ve been stabilized since then, but I still want to observe whether there are any aftereffects before I expose you to that kind of stress again."

"I see... So, where am I supposed to sleep?"

"Just go home?"

Ilya stared at her. "...Then why did you bring me here?"

"You’re the one who followed me?" Vera replied with a perfectly straight face. "I don’t recall inviting you to stay."

"Well, you didn’t tell me to leave either."

"That is true."

She gave a small nod of acknowledgment before taking the bags from his hands and setting them against the wall.

"Thanks for carrying my things."

"...."

"...?"

Silence settled over the room.

After a few moments, Vera sighed.

"Fine," she said. "You can stay for the night. I’ll give you my bed, and I’ll sleep on the floor."

"No. That makes even less sense."

"And why is that?"

"You’re the one who lives here. If anyone should be sleeping on the floor, it should be me."

Vera simply looked at him before giving a shrug.

"If that’s what you want, I won’t argue with you," she said. "There’s a spare floor mattress folded away in the bedroom closet, along with an extra blanket and pillow. Just take whatever you need."

Vera waved him off over her shoulder before making her way toward the bathroom.

"I’ll be taking a shower first," she said. "Feel free to make the bed while I’m gone. And don’t fall asleep before you’ve actually laid it out."

Without waiting for a reply, she stepped inside and closed the bathroom door behind her.

Ilya stood there for a moment before turning toward the bedroom. As Vera had said, a folded floor mattress was kept in the closet, along with a pillow and a spare blanket.

"She really had everything prepared..."

After laying the mattress out on the floor, Ilya lay down and pulled the blanket over himself. Yet the moment he closed his eyes, his thoughts began drifting elsewhere.

"...."

Ever since the incident on Mount Serebryany, there had been countless questions he had wanted to ask Vera.

Yet every time those questions surfaced, he pushed them back down. Just as Vera had never pried into his own secrets, he couldn’t bring himself to pry into hers, feeling that the understanding they had built between them might crumble the moment either of them crossed that line.

"...Sir Fritz."

To Ilya, Sir Fritz had always been a good man.

He had patiently taught him swordsmanship throughout his childhood, never once losing his temper despite Ilya’s lack of talent with the blade, and although the circumstances that had forced his dismissal as a general of the Northern Grand Duchy remained unclear, the man had accepted an instructor’s position at the academy without complaint.

"Sigh."

Unable to settle his mind, Ilya reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette.

"Hoo..."

Resting against the headboard with the cigarette between his fingers, he watched the stream of smoke drift toward the ceiling while the sound of running water continued beyond the bathroom door.

"...This is still way too stimulating."

* * *

"Huh—cough!"

Fresh out of the shower, Vera had barely stepped out of the bathroom before she immediately began coughing.

A dense haze flowed throughout the apartment, and the smell of cigarette smoke had seeped so thoroughly into the room that it was difficult to tell whether she had walked into her own home or a rundown smoking lounge.

She looked toward the living room.

There sat Ilya, surrounded by an embarrassing number of cigarette butts, another one between his fingers as though he had no intention of stopping anytime soon.

"I told you to get some sleep," Vera said with an exasperated sigh, waving a hand in front of her face to clear the smoke. "Not to chain-smoke until my entire apartment smells like tobacco."

Ilya looked up from where he sat.

"The room always smelled like tobacco, Senior."

"...That’s beside the point."

She walked over to the nearest window and slid it open. The cool morning air poured into the apartment, drifting away the smoke little by little while Vera shot Ilya an unimpressed glance over her shoulder.

"Why are you even awake?" she asked. "I was sure I worked you to the bone."

"Hoo..."

Ilya took another slow drag before exhaling toward the now-open window.

"I couldn’t sleep."

Vera glanced at the growing pile of cigarette butts on the table.

"I can see that."

"Senior, would it be alright if I stayed here for another day?"

"Only if you pay rent."

"I can pay rent."

"...."

"Can I?"

Vera eyed him for a few seconds before the teasing look on her face gradually faded.

"You don’t want to go home?"

"Just until my father returns to the North," Ilya replied. "It should only be another day. Dealing with my sister is one thing, but once Father is back... finding time to study magic will become much more difficult."

"I see. So you still haven’t told him."

Ilya shook his head. "I’ll tell him during the semester break. I’d rather have something to show for it before I do."

Vera hummed in acknowledgment.

"I suppose that’s not the sort of conversation one has over dinner."

"Especially not with my father."

Vera nodded. "Then let’s have breakfast."

"...."

"...You’re thinking about my cooking, aren’t you?"

"I didn’t say anything."