The Affairs of Those Noble Brothers Chapter 3

“Hey, you’re really coming?”

The classmate who’d asked looked surprised, as if he hadn’t expected it himself. Irodel just blinked without repeating himself. Truth be told, he wasn’t all that interested. But the mention of hanging out with others reminded him of the grievance from a few days ago. If he were actually going to mingle with commoners for fun, that would be one thing, but the preposterous suspicion had resulted in a laboratory being built in the annex. In that case, he might as well do what they feared. With an infinitely haughty face, but inwardly smirking darkly, Irodel felt a muscular, well-developed forearm slide in from behind him.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Ugh… Let go!”

“You’ve got quite a repertoire of tricks to make people run around after you. Last time you locked the library door, and now you’re trying to slip away down a different path? Don’t even dream of it.”

Tibane growled fiercely into Irodel’s ear. Then he dragged Irodel along, bag and all. Irodel struggled to free the arm wrapped around his neck, letting out a yelp.

“Let go of me right now! Who do you think you are to meddle in my affairs!”

“You think I’m following you around because I’m free? If you’d just stay put quietly at home, I wouldn’t meddle even if you begged me to.”

“What business is it of yours whether I stay home or not!”

“What business, you ask?”

Before they left the lecture hall, Tibane shoved Irodel against the wall as if throwing him there. Just from struggling briefly, his breath was ragged. Stupid, uncivilized bastard. Savage-like bastard. As evidence, the chairs and tables in Tibane’s wake were strewn about, leaving the entire lecture hall in disarray.

“You’re a weak, frail civilian, so they’ll let you get away with breaking every household rule and command, but I’m different. Even if it’s a crappy order, I have to follow it and carry it out. Do you understand?”

“What do I care about your circumstances!”

“You little—”

As if going through a routine, Tibane raised his hand. Even as Irodel thought it had been a while since he’d been hit, he didn’t flinch. Tibane, meeting that gaze, seemed to lose his temper and gritted his teeth, finally slapping Irodel hard across the cheek. It wasn’t a punch, but his head still rang.

“…”

He couldn’t remember exactly when it started, but he and Tibane always fought like this. Their parents’ attempts at mediation were useless. Sometimes both would draw blood, and sometimes they’d stare at each other with wounded eyes. As the fights repeated, Tibane grew rougher, and Irodel became more closed off to others. Though born on the same day, the two were a negative presence to each other.

“Unless you want another hit, come quietly.”

“Why don’t you just knock me out and drag me along? You said knocking me out with one punch is nothing. With our brother not here today, go ahead and hit me all you want! Until then, I’m not going anywhere with you!”

And what made Tibane, in this state, most furious was the mention of their brother. The reason was probably a display of inferiority complex. No matter how much of an alpha that bastard was, he couldn’t even touch the heels of their brother Logan in terms of ability. Sure enough, Tibane’s eyes reddened as he glared at Irodel. Being so close, he could clearly see the blood vessels in his eyeballs bursting. It was a spine-chilling, hair-raising sight.

“W-Wait a minute. Stop fighting. An outsider using violence against a student on school grounds is an act of terrorism.”

“Who are you? Get lost!”

He’d thought the dull-faced guy would have run off long ago, but the classmate was still there. But faced with Tibane rampaging like a ferocious beast, he seemed scared, his face turning pale. Irodel felt his strength rapidly drain as he picked up his bag rolling on the floor. Then he grabbed the classmate’s arm and pulled him along.

“Let’s go.”

“Uh, huh? Are you, are you sure that’s okay?”

“That bastard can’t do anything except hit people anyway.”

If that sort of thing even counted as ‘being able to do something.’ In fact, even dumb beasts could hit people. Just then, through the window on the door, a beast glared at him savagely.

“That’s what you call worse than a dog.”

He spat the words out and closed the door behind him. From inside the lecture hall, he heard something crash down. It was nothing much—just the cry of a wounded beast.

∞ ∞ ∞

He didn’t have high expectations for commoners gathering to hang out. He figured they’d just make a racket and chatter in some cheap pub he’d seen while passing by. That was half right and half wrong.

They danced and made noise loudly, and their chatter was so crude that the word ‘chatter’ seemed almost refined. When they ate and drank, they looked like pigeons swarming around birdseed, and the game they brought out was nothing but some strange business involving a square stone with a circle drawn on it that they rolled around. He couldn’t understand what fun there was in doing something that required no thought, but they seemed to enjoy it quite a bit.

“Oh, Irodel’s been caught.”

And when he was caught, whatever that meant, the surroundings went quiet for a moment. Irodel sipped his cheap beer and glanced at the table. It seemed to be a game where they’d written everyone’s names down, rolled something called dice, and if it landed on you in order, you had to perform a penalty. But a penalty—who would dare impose a penalty on him? No matter how lacking the second son of House Lockperth was, commoners weren’t in a position to openly give him a penalty.

Naturally, he thought the dice would be rolled again… but somehow, everyone’s looks were unsettling. They exchanged meaningful glances for a moment, then pointed at Orbon. So that was the name of the dull, gangly fellow.

“Gasp, m-me!?”

“You invited him. And even if you are a lower noble, you’re still a noble, so you’re safer than us.”

“B-But still… let’s just roll again. Please!”

“No. We can’t do that. Those are the rules!”

What on earth was going on? Irodel, who had been sitting alone at the head of the table, got up and approached Orbon. Upon seeing Irodel, Orbon’s face flushed red, then turned pale, and he didn’t know what to do.

“What are you doing?”

“W-Well, you see…”

Orbon seemed utterly unable to speak. Instead, he jabbed the guy next to him in the ribs. But that guy seemed just as unable to talk, and in the end, the answer fell to the last person who received the baton.

“Um, the penalty this time is… i-it’s a… a kiss…”

“A kiss?”

Irodel’s brow furrowed. He’d never done it, but he knew what it was. He just couldn’t understand why something done between a man and a woman, or an alpha and an omega, would come up here. There was nothing but perfectly normal guys everywhere he looked. Then he realized. It was a penalty because it was a kiss done with a perfectly normal guy. He understood the gist, but they wanted him to do it with Orbon? No way.

“Make it a different penalty.”

“B-But…”

“But what?”

“I-It’s the rules…”

“What rules.”

“T-The rule is, if you change it once, you have to keep changing it, and if you make an exception, you have to keep changing it…”

Got it. When Irodel waved his hand as if to say fine, the guy who’d been explaining let out a breath he’d been holding. It was a trivial game, but if they had their own rules, he couldn’t act without dignity as a noble. When Irodel jerked his chin for him to hurry up, Orbon squeezed his eyes shut with an expression of profound gratitude, then lightning-fast brushed his lips against Irodel’s and pulled away. Was this what they called a kiss? It seemed a bit different from what he’d known in theory, but at any rate, the fact that he didn’t feel good about it meant it was indeed a punishment.

“Orbon, you did well!”

“A toast to Orbon for upholding the rules!”

It felt like he was the one who’d upheld the rules, but he didn’t know why they were toasting Orbon. Slightly dissatisfied, Irodel nevertheless went along with the mood and sipped his beer. Orbon, whose face had gone beyond red and seemed about to burst, stayed face-down on the table for a while, unable to get up, before finally calming down and coming over to Irodel with an apology.

“Sorry… those guys are a bit thoughtless.”

“Tell me about it.”

“But they’re not bad guys, so don’t be too mad.”

“I’m not that mad. I just feel bad.”

“That’s the same thing.”