🐈 🐈 🐈
NINA’S current job was primarily cleaning, but she was technically a student, so she did, of course, have to attend classes.
But that was where the difference in birth and education became most apparent.
For a commoner, she was rather good at reading, writing, and arithmetic, but she could only do what she needed for her day-to-day life. It differed from what nobility learned at the academy since they studied the subjects they would need later as lords and ladies.
Nina was confident she could beat everyone else in the class when calculating discounts on bread and vegetables, but there were many times when class didn’t go very well for her.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know the answer.”
The teacher called on her in class, but she didn’t understand the subject matter. She had no other option but to apologize.
And that was fine. Well, it wasn’t good that she didn’t understand her classwork, of course, but she wasn’t nobility; she couldn’t really be expected to understand it perfectly.
The problem was this:
“Professor!”
Nina had had the weak hope that she could get through this situation safely, but it happened. A boy shot to his feet, his cry shattering her hope.
“Miss Nina may be a commoner, but she thoroughly understands the problem’s foundation. I feel you’re pushing her too fast by requiring her to apply these concepts immediately.”
“Exactly!” came—to Nina—frustrating cries of agreement from all across the room.
Putting aside what he said about her being a commoner, she simply didn’t understand the class material. The only person to blame was her. She could understand if they were going to demand the professor teach things in a more easily understood way, but that wasn’t quite the argument the boys were trying to make.
“Miss Nina comes to school early and cleans. You are insulting her pure spirit,” cried one.
“I saw her weeding the gardens. You should be proud of what she does! Butterflies visit the gardens; flowers bloom more beautifully after she weeds.”
“Have you seen the banister that Miss Nina polished? Its sparkling luster is like the shine of her hair: utterly beautiful!”
Here it goes again.
In the end, the boys didn’t care at all about how well Nina understood the class material. They just wanted to sing her praises. Or, more accurately, they wanted Nina to acknowledge them and perhaps grow closer to her.
Nina would usually be disgusted by such an arrogant assumption of what they wanted, but she wasn’t just a commoner right now. She was a walking heroine carrying the power of a god.
They were utterly drunk on infatuation, swimming in feelings of joy just because she was there, and they changed to believe that anything and everything was okay.
Generally, the heroine would appear in a series of scenes that anyone could accept as charming, like caring for flowers or being kind to animals. But Nina was just cleaning and weeding.
It was a bit strange to be laden with charm from the very beginning, but now that things were moving to the later stages, it was moving toward the height of absurdity.
“Oh, how fragrant is the water that Nina wrings from her rag, sparkling with grime!”
“I want to be reborn as a banister so Nina can polish me!”
At this point, the noble boys were crying out things that could be considered bullying or perhaps perverted fetishes, their cheeks blushing. It was sheer madness.
The scary thing was that it wasn’t just the boys in the end. The girls and even the teacher got swept up in this tidal wave of love. Nina was like a lone sapling atop a mound of sand, helpless as the waves crashed into her.
She didn’t think the reaction was this overt when she first came to the academy. Maybe the heroine boost had developed?
The teacher, who had been sitting there motionless as he listened to his students, slowly placed his textbook on his desk and dabbed his handkerchief at the corners of his tear-filled eyes. “You are absolutely right. Miss Scaglione is hard-working and adorable. I, too, have dreamed of her delicate little feet stomping on me on several occasions!”
“Professor!” The entire classroom shouted at the teacher’s bordering-on-illegal statement.
Obviously, it wasn’t to reprimand him. It was a cry of agreement and praise.
The students listened, tears streaming down their faces as the teacher exclaimed, “I understand, I do. Her mud-caked shoes are the best!” Nina wanted him fired on the spot.
And if they were going to get themselves all worked up on their own, it was best to ignore them. The troublesome part was when they inevitably tried to drag her into things.
“Miss Scaglione, what do you say?” asked the teacher.
“What do I say about what?” This whole conversation began because Nina didn’t understand the teacher’s question, but she was certain that wasn’t what he was asking about now.
“Would you…step on me? Just once?”
“No.”
Nina’s immediate response drew a cry of admiration from the girls. “That’s right!” one expressed. “You have to be worthy to have the pleasure of feeling Nina’s feet.”
What sort of person was worthy of a kick? No, Nina definitely didn’t want this professor teaching her anything. She wanted him fired—now.
“But Miss Scaglione,” claimed the teacher, “I prepared a black silk jacket to wear when you stomp on me so the shape of your foot is forever preserved! And I swear I won’t take even the slightest peek at you while you’re doing it!”
And that might very well be the most disgusting vow to God anyone had ever made in all history. It wouldn’t be surprising at all if this god rained divine fury down on the teacher.
But the girls seemed to be coming around to the idea since he was going to put that much effort into it after all, while the boys cried tears of overwhelmed admiration that the teacher could have such a strong will that he wouldn’t look up Nina’s skirt while she was stepping on him.
This happened every time. This wasn’t a heroine buff; it was a pervert buff. Either that or everyone became a pervert when their emotions were so strong they became twisted. If so, Nina never wanted a romantic relationship, ever.
She let out a sigh so heavy her very soul threatened to slip out with it, and a quiet laugh came from behind.