Chapter 50: One Standard.

It was right after Violet and Yulan had started studying together for the tests.

To Yulan, sitting side by side with Violet, chatting between problems, was nothing short of bliss.

The way she unhesitatingly found answers, the way her gaze glided smoothly across the page.
The unconscious habit of tapping the end of her pen against her lips.
The little crease between her brows, the slight pout when she was stuck, then the bright, triumphant smile when the puzzle clicked into place.

Dignified beauty.
Childlike innocence when grappling with a question.
Radiant joy at solving it.

Every single expression on Violet’s face—studying while stealing glances at them—felt like working to the gentle accompaniment of the most soothing background music.
If studying could always be this enjoyable, he’d happily do it every day, even outside test season.
His grades would probably be perfect, too.

But that was only from Yulan’s perspective.

“Vio-chan…”

“Mm…? Don’t understand something?”

“…Yeah, could you explain this one?”

She pointed at a random question to shift her attention.
Of course he listened carefully to every word of her explanation, engraving it in his memory, while quietly burying the real question he wanted to ask.

—Does Vio-chan have anyone to teach her?

He already knew the answer without asking.
Violet didn’t have many third-year acquaintances, and among them, someone she could borrow old tests from… the list was short and obvious.

The thought of her sitting like this with anyone else made his stomach twist, but the fact remained: thanks to her, he could take it easy, while he had nothing to offer in return.

He had never regretted being younger quite this much.
Tomorrow he might wish to be her classmate, or even praise himself for being the younger one—but in the end, any position that benefited Violet was one he wanted.
As long as he was younger, there were things he couldn’t give her, and that cycle of envy and pride would continue.

Right now, it was envy’s turn.
Because he was a first-year, she could teach him—but he couldn’t teach her.

It was frustrating, yes, but thinking alone changed nothing.

He knew what would help Violet, and he refused to just sit and watch.

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“What’s eating you?”

“Shut up.”

“That deadpan face is scary, man.”

Gear’s utterly flat tone and exasperated stare told Yulan that his friend had already guessed most of it.
There was only one reason Yulan ever stopped bothering to hide his feelings.

“If you go to Vio-san with that face she’ll be shocked.”

“I’m not stupid enough to do that.”

“Sure, sure…”

It was break time; a decent number of students were still in the classroom.
Gear either didn’t care about their eyes or figured his image could handle it—probably the latter.
Anyone who knew the usual Yulan might be surprised, but they’d just fill in the gap with “moe” or whatever.
That was the kind of popularity Yulan had.

“So what’s the problem? Something happen with the princess?”

“I told you to stop calling her that.”

“You instantly go dark the moment I say Vio-san, and you’re lecturing me…?”

When she wasn’t around, he’d use the old nickname.

Yulan hadn’t realized it himself, but apparently his eyes turned icy the instant Gear used her nickname.
Completely unconscious—an instinctive reaction.
If it made Gear stop, there was no need to fix it.
He didn’t exactly allow the “princess” nickname, but it was still better than letting someone else use the special name only he called her.

He knew he was being petty, but all of Yulan’s kindness was already 100% allocated to Violet.
Gear had long given up complaining about that—it was pointless anyway.

“You’ve got third-year friends, right?”

“At least pretend to ask properly. No, I don’t.”

“You don’t, so obviously I don’t either.”

“Fair.”

Gear accepting it so easily made Yulan wonder if his friend’s heart was too big—or if he just didn’t care.
Probably the latter.

“You’ve got a few, though. The ones you fooled with that perfect mask.”

“I didn’t fool anyone. They misunderstood on their own.”

“Potayto, potahto.”

“Using basic etiquette to make a good first impression is normal, isn’t it?”

“That’s some brutal pragmatism…”

The content itself wasn’t wrong; that was the problem.
Arguing with someone who had zero intention of changing was a waste of energy.

More importantly, they kept veering off topic.

“Something going on with the third-years?”

“Tests are coming up.”

“…You expect me to connect those dots?”

Of course Gear knew about the tests.
Despite his laid-back vibe and energetic looks, as a prince there was a minimum score he had to maintain—at least in theory.

The issue was the connection between the tests and Yulan looking for third-year contacts.

Gear’s face screamed “I don’t get it.”
Yulan gave him a look that said “Are you an idiot?”—though honestly, most people wouldn’t have understood either.

With a sigh and a look of resignation, he finally explained.

“I’m trying to find someone who’ll lend Vio-chan old test papers, but there’s no one suitable.”

Normally the only people Yulan actively buttered up were ones connected to Violet.
He wasn’t kind enough to bother charming upperclassmen he rarely interacted with.

Violet was famous in her own way and tended to keep people at arm’s length.
Yulan had always assessed whether someone would benefit or harm her, staying ready to eliminate threats at any time.

In other words, every upperclassman he knew harbored some kind of feeling toward Violet.
There was no way he’d let those ticking time bombs anywhere near his treasure.

But that also meant he had no safe, reliable contacts left to use.

“…Guess there’s no helping it.”

“Hm?”

“Nothing.”

Gear’s brows furrowed at the muttered words from Yulan, whose face had gone past sullen into blank.
But he knew pressing further would only earn complete silence; long experience had taught him that.

Besides, Yulan wasn’t the type to take out his frustrations on others—unless you hit the one exception.

In the end, Gear only found out what Yulan had been planning the next day—when Violet showed up to the study session visibly baffled.