The Strongest Student of the Weakest Academy-Chapter 90: Interlude: Snow Festival (VII)

Crackle...

The candlelight flickered, casting long, wavering shadows across the cold marble floor. The Cathedral was quiet—so quiet that even the distant wind outside felt muffled.

Christina stood there, her dim pink eyes locked onto Aestrea’s glowing red ones.

Her hands, still clasped in front of her, tightened slightly. Her nails pressed into her palms, but her face remained composed.

Elegant.

Serene, even.

"...The money."

Aestrea went straight to the point.

His voice was calm.

Steady.

Like he wanted to be done with this quickly.

Like he wanted to leave.

Christina felt something snap.

Her lips curled into a small smile.

And to her smile, Aestrea stiffened slightly.

’Oh?’

’Was he… nervous?’

’Good.’

She took a step forward.

The soft click of her heels echoed in the empty Cathedral, each sound slow, deliberate. The warmth from the candles barely reached her, but it didn’t matter.

Her head tilted slightly, her golden hair sliding over her shoulder.

"My, my…" she murmured, her voice light, teasing.

She took another step.

Then another.

Aestrea didn’t move.

His eyes stayed on her, glowing, unreadable.

"You finally arrived," she murmured, voice light, teasing, "and the first thing you ask for is… money?"

Another step.

Another.

She tilted her head, her golden hair sliding over her shoulder like liquid gold.

"A bit cold, don’t you think?"

She watched as his expression twitched—just a flicker, barely there.

Then, he sighed.

"...I do not have any reason to talk with you other than that. Besides, you said it yourse—!"

"—Shhhh..."

Christina raised a finger and placed it against his lips.

Aestrea froze.

His eyes widened—just a little.

And inside, she laughed.

"...For someone who used to treat the Cathedral like a second home," she whispered in a soft voice, "you’re being quite the problem child."

His eyebrows furrowed.

"Well? Aren’t you happy?" he asked suddenly.

Christina raised an eyebrow.

"I mean, you were the one who wanted me to stop coming here with injuries from battle. Isn’t this what you wanted?"

Her breath caught.

Her fingers curled slightly.

’Hah.’

’How cute.’

"I did say that," she admitted, tilting her head slightly, "because I care about you. But that doesn’t mean you couldn’t pay me a visit, no?"

Her voice softened—but it was edged with something sharp.

"It’s been quite a while since you’ve come here—I even had to invite you myself, and the only reason you came was probably because of the money…"

She let out a quiet laugh.

Then, she turned around.

The candlelight cast her shadow long across the floor.

"I guess..."

Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"...For you, I was simply a tool."

Aestrea stiffened.

His mouth parted slightly.

"...Christina, I nev—"

"—Someone you could ask for help, and I would do anything you wanted, right?"

She turned back around.

Her dim pink eyes locked onto his glowing red ones.

Then, a slow, bitter smile formed on her lips.

"A tool that could heal your constant injuries... right?"

Her voice cracked.

Aestrea’s frown deepened.

"Christina, I never saw you as a—"

"Then what was I to you, Aestrea?"

Her voice rose.

Louder.

Sharper.

She took a step forward—her body trembling slightly.

Aestrea inhaled, his lips pressing together.

"Christina—"

Then, suddenly—

She punched him.

It wasn’t hard.

Not enough to hurt.

But enough to make him feel it.

Her small fists hit his chest again.

Then again.

Then again.

"Did you think of me as a tool?!"

Her voice shook.

"Something that you could use anytime you wanted?!"

Aestrea didn’t stop her.

He just stood there.

Taking it.

Her shoulders shook.

Her hands balled into fists.

She lifted her gaze—her dim pink eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

"...What about my feelings?"

Silence.

Aestrea exhaled slowly.

Then—

"...I never saw you that way," he said, voice lower, softer.

Christina stared at him.

Her chest rose and fell, breath shaky.

Then, she laughed.

Soft.

Bitter.

"Then why?" she whispered.

"Why do you keep running away from me?"

Aestrea looked at her.

Silent.

Then—

He looked away.

And that—

That hurt more than anything.

The Cathedral was silent.

Only the distant crackle of candlelight remained.

Christina stared at him, her breath uneven. Her fists clenched by her sides, her nails digging into her palms.

Why?

Why wouldn’t he look at her?

Why wouldn’t he face her?

The lump in her throat tightened, her vision blurring for half a second.

"...Hahaha..."

Then, she laughed.

Soft.

Sharp.

Bitter.

"There it is," she whispered, shaking her head.

"You always do this."

Aestrea’s red eyes flickered toward her.

She didn’t stop.

"You always avoid things when they get too real."

Her voice trembled slightly, but she forced herself to keep going.

"You shut me out. You leave me behind. And then, when you finally come back, you act like nothing happened."

She took a step forward.

He didn’t move.

"Do you know what it’s like?" she asked sharply, "To wait for you?"

Her hands clenched tighter.

"To pray, to beg for you to come back safe—while you’re out there, fighting, throwing yourself into battle like your life means nothing?!"

Aestrea’s jaw tightened.

She saw it.

That tiny flicker in his eyes.

But he still didn’t say anything.

And that infuriated her.

Christina let out a sharp breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

She wanted to hit him.

She wanted to shake him.

She wanted to scream.

But instead—

She smiled.

And that was probably more terrifying than anything else.

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"Tell me, Aestrea," she said, voice slow, dangerous.

Aestrea stiffened.

"...What?"

Christina tilted her head slightly, golden hair falling over her shoulder.

"Was she worth it?"

Silence.

His expression didn’t change.

But oh, she saw the way his fingers curled slightly at his sides.

Good.

She took another step.

"That girl."

His eyes darkened.

"The one who wouldn’t stop touching you after the battle against the Archdemon of Pride."

Aestrea’s entire body tensed.

Christina’s smile widened.

"Oh? Do you remember now?" she whispered.

"Or should I remind you?"

She placed a delicate finger against her chin, pretending to think.

"What was her name again? Ah… right."

She leaned in slightly.

"Senior Violet, am I right?"

His expression hardened.

Christina let out a breathy laugh.

"She was quite bold, wasn’t she?" she mused, "Touching your arm. Clinging to you. Looking up at you with those big, worried eyes—"

She made a mocking little gasp.

"Oh, Aestrea, I’m so glad that you’re okay!"

Aestrea’s eye twitched.

He exhaled slowly, like he was trying to control his breathing.

"Christina—"

"What?" she interrupted, stepping even closer.

They were too close now.

Her pink eyes glowed softly in the dim light.

His red ones burned like embers.

"Are you nervous?" she whispered.

Aestrea’s lips pressed together into a thin line.

Christina grinned.

"You should be."

He sighed, running a hand through his silver hair.

"It wasn’t like that."

Christina blinked slowly.

"Oh?"

"She was just—"

"Just what, Aestrea?"

He hesitated.

And that was all she needed.

"She was just there? Just standing next to you? Just touching you for no reason?"

She took another step, forcing him back slightly.

"Are you trying to tell me that she just happened to drape herself over you like some lost kitten?"

Aestrea inhaled sharply, looking away again.

Christina’s expression darkened.

"There you go again."

Aestrea blinked.

"Looking away."

Her voice was quiet now.

Hurt.

"Always looking away."

Aestrea’s shoulders tensed slightly.

She hated that.

She hated that he could fight demons, face death, stand on the battlefield without fear—

And yet, he couldn’t look at her.

"Christina—"

"Say it."

Aestrea froze.

"Say it, Aestrea."

She stepped even closer.

"Tell me it meant nothing."

His breath hitched.

Her dim pink eyes glowed.

"Tell me she meant nothing to you."

Silence.

The flickering candlelight cast shadows across his face, making his expression unreadable.

Then—

Finally—

"...She meant nothing."

Christina’s heart pounded.

But she didn’t let it show.

Instead, she let out a soft breath, tilting her head slightly.

"Good."

Aestrea stiffened.

She smiled sweetly.

Then—

She leaned in, lips barely an inch from his ear.

"But just so we’re clear…"

Her voice was barely a whisper now.

"If she tries it again…"

A pause.

A small, innocent smile.

"...I don’t know what I’ll do."

Aestrea swallowed.

Christina pulled back slightly, studying his expression.

And oh—

His expression...?

That was beautiful.

She took a step back, finally giving him space.

Then, with a soft hum, she reached into her cleavage and pulled out a small pouch.

She tossed it toward him.

Aestrea caught it without thinking.

The weight of it was familiar—his money.

"...That’s all you came here for, right?"

Her voice was light.

Almost playful.

Aestrea exhaled.

He didn’t say anything.

He just looked at her.

Like he was trying to figure her out.

Like he couldn’t.

And honestly?

That was exactly how she wanted it.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Getting out of the cathedral...

Aestrea sighed deeply.

"...She really had to indirectly confess to me in the most insane way possible," he muttered under his breath.

His eyebrows furrowed slightly.

Honestly, he couldn’t really refuse Christina’s words.

The hundreds of memories he had with Christina simply made him hesitant to do anything to actually hurt her.

Although he did it unconciously.

And well...

Christina... she was Aestrea’s first love.

He didn’t even realize when it happened, but he fell for her so easily.

She probably knew that already.

Back then, he was a mess around her—awkward, unsure of what to do or say.

He never made any moves, never tried to make things happen between them.

He just wanted to savor every second he spent with her, like time with her was something to be cherished.

He wasn’t the type to fake an injury just to see her, but... every little thing she did made him fall harder.

The way she healed him with her kindness, the worry in her eyes when she noticed something was off with him... she had a way of making him feel like he was the only person that mattered.

Everything about Christina felt perfect to him.

But he could never admit it.

Not then.

So, he avoided her.

Every time she made a move, he pretended not to notice.

He looked away.

Pretending not to understand what she was saying.

It was easier that way, right?

But now...

He couldn’t keep pretending anymore.

Or neither he planned to.

Christina’s seed of love had already overflowed through the jealousy that she felt when she saw Violet hugging Aestrea.

If anything more goes on, Christina’s emotions could be getting erratic.

The kind that could really be dangerous.

"I mean... the way she expressed her emotions..." Aestrea frowned.

From a normal guy’s perspective, it might seem that it was simply jealousy.

But Aestrea knew...

Christina really wanted to kill Violet.

And she might even do it.

And of course, the only reason she’s so confident should be because of the Holy Nation behind her, the faction that protects her.

For them, Christina is like a gift from god.

"...Well."

He ran a hand through his hair, a tired chuckle escaping his lips.

"It’s not like I’m living a normal life."

He looked up at the sky, his smile turning bitter.

"Besides...it’s just another crazy woman, right?"

In the short time he’d been here, he had already met more than enough of them.