Path of the Extra Chapter 383: Leo Karumi [17]

"The way you have delegated tasks to students, organized classes, and managed clubs—it is almost as if you curated the layout to draw out everyone’s hidden potential. With a structure as refined as this, there is simply no space for petty infighting or confusion, and the consensus among the students has been one of high motivation. Truthfully, under normal circumstances, a significant portion of the student body would have already lost steam regarding their festival obligations by now..."

Lea kept her gaze locked on the stack of documents in her grasp, perusing the details with a curious blend of sharp focus and genuine awe. Leo remained seated across from her; they had dragged two separate desks together, effectively occupying an empty classroom for their meeting.

School had concluded for the day. Lea had requested a progress report regarding Leo’s recent contributions, and he had acquiesced—which brought them to this current setting. Earlier, he had been honing his piano skills at the music club, while Lea had stayed behind to finalize student council affairs. The timing happened to align perfectly.

Instructor Kaya had returned to their halls as well, although Leo’s interactions with her were now restricted to twice a week rather than daily. Because her brother continued to struggle with his children, Kaya was consistently diverted to assist him.

Leo found it of little consequence. At this stage, there was remarkably little left that she could offer him in terms of instruction, though the presence of an experienced professional remained useful—specifically for the rare occasion when precise technical advice was required.

"It is not merely that," Lea continued, thumbing through a page. "The manner in which you have balanced the budget to avoid fiscal waste, along with how you determined the pricing for food items and admission tickets, is genuinely impressive."

Leo looked entirely unimpressed. He leaned back in his chair and exhaled a quiet, weary sigh.

"You are blowing this out of proportion. Any individual in this position would have achieved something similar. Or at least, they would have attempted to."

"As a middle school student? Executing it to the standard you have?" Lea snapped her head up to confront him.

"Absolutely not."

"You shouldn't harbor such a low opinion of your peers," Leo replied with a dry tone. "That happens to be my responsibility."

Lea did not offer a laugh. Instead, she brought the documents down onto the wooden surface with a sharp, resounding slap, resting her hands atop them while keeping her focus glued to his face.

"I am being perfectly serious. Because of your intervention, morale remains high. You have been tirelessly pulling strings behind the scenes, and the student body has no idea that the seamless progression of these events is entirely due to your labor."

Leo’s expression tightened, a palpable sense of unease creeping into his features.

"I told you already. Nothing I have done warrants such praise."

"But—"

"We are finished." Leo stood abruptly.

"If there is nothing further, our business for today is concluded. The clubs utilizing the gym have already vacated, yet I still intend to get some basketball practice in."

"Eh?" Lea blinked in surprise.

"You are honestly going to continue working?"

"I am."

He grabbed his side of the table to restore it to its original position. Lea quickly rose to assist him, lifting her chair and sliding it into its proper place.

Leo strode toward the exit, with Lea trailing closely behind.

"Do you never feel fatigue?" she queried, a note of genuine concern entering her voice.

"You really should grant yourself a reprieve. Pushing your physical limits to this extent is hardly healthy. Truly, just head home and rest for once."

Leo stopped so suddenly that Lea had to scramble to a halt to avoid a collision.

He pivoted, his eyes narrowed, his voice carrying a biting chill.

"Was it not you who importuned me for my assistance and time? And now you are complaining when I choose to utilize more of it? Are you not being remarkably selfish?"

Lea pressed her lips together and averted her gaze.

"I-I am sorry..." she whispered. "I was only anxious. And I felt a lingering guilt... fearing that perhaps because of me, you are overexerting yourself."

Leo did not offer a softened countenance.

"Whether I push myself to the brink of collapse is entirely irrelevant to you."

Lea flinched.

"And this assistance," he added coldly, "is a strictly singular event."

"Do not grow accustomed to it."

"I... I understand."

Lea’s posture drooped, a flicker of sadness passing over her face, though she evidently understood his boundary. Leo turned back, opening the door—

—and nearly collided with a girl wearing twin-tails, her hand poised to knock.

Upon meeting Leo’s piercing stare, she froze, her complexion bleached of color, and she took an reflexive step backward.

"Ah... u-um..."

Leo evaluated her for a moment before letting out a soft sigh.

"What is your business, Class Rep?"

"Class rep?" Lea peeked around him, her curiosity piqued.

The girl suddenly executed a bow so deep that it startled them both.

"I-I went to the music club," she stammered. "But you were no longer there."

"Why were you searching for me? And stand up straight."

"I... I wanted to express my gratitude—on behalf of our entire class...!"

Leo blinked, failing to grasp her meaning.

"...Gratitude for what?"

Still leaning forward, she lifted her head to reveal eyes filled with a desperate, nervous resolve.

"A-a few days ago, once you departed—after you pointed out all the fatal flaws of a themed haunted house—we were lost. Honestly, even until this afternoon, we were flailing. We had virtually zero progress on the costumes." She inhaled deeply.

"But today, members of the cosplay club arrived and claimed they were here to assist us—completely free of charge!"

"I see," Leo said. "Good for you. But what does that have to do with thanking me?"

She refused to let him deflect.

"They... they stated that you approached them days ago and requested that they help us!"

Leo offered no comment.

"And they said you knew the club was facing disbandment because they were one member shy," the class rep continued, her voice trembling with rising excitement. "So you pledged to act as a ghost member—just to ensure their survival for another academic year!"

"...!"

Lea’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. Her head snapped toward Leo.

Leo merely stared at the class rep, his expression unreadable.

Admittedly, his strategy was calculated. The cosplay club possessed only four members—they were small, obscure, and destined to be dissolved next year for failing to meet the minimum threshold. However, by Leo pledging as a ghost member at the eleventh hour, he ensured their survival for another cycle. In exchange, he secured the cooperation of four highly proficient crafters who were motivated and sufficiently grateful to aid his class without reservation.

Still, the gesture itself felt implausible to anyone who truly knew his character.

Leo glanced down the hallway. At the far corner, he caught several heads ducking back out of sight.

His classmates.

They had trailed after the class rep.

The moment they realized Leo had spotted them, they attempted to retreat. It was a pathetic, almost comical display of cowardice.

Leo turned his attention back to the class rep and absently raked his fingers through his hair.

"Very well," he said.

"I accept the gratitude. Now, cease the bowing, round up the others, and return home."

Her eyes retained that shimmering, admiring light as she nodded—then proceeded to bow once more anyway.

"Truly, thank you," she insisted. "You saved us!"

"I have received your message," Leo replied, already waving her away.

"Depart."

She finally spun around and scurried toward the corner where the others were concealed.

Instantly, Leo was met with the sound of muffled jubilation—high-fives and sighs of relief—followed by the frantic patter of retreating footsteps as the group finally vanished.

Leo heaved a final, long sigh and glared at the vacant hallway as if it had personally insulted him.

"...Why did you offer them your aid?"

Leo remained in the threshold, half-turned back toward the room. Lea stayed within, head bowed, preventing him from reading her expression.

"...Because it is my duty," Leo said with an even tone. "You designated me as the captain of the festival committee, and I gave my word. Besides, we are departing this institution soon enough regardless. I forfeit nothing by providing this assistance."

"But... why?"

Leo tilted his head slightly.

"I gave you my reason."

"No." Lea’s voice was steady but thin, lacking its usual bravado. "I mean: why did you agree to help me in the first place?"

"..."

"Just now—and prior to this—you have brushed aside praise that you genuinely earned, acting as though you do not deserve it. And then you maintain that you are inherently unkind..." Her voice tightened. "Yet you constantly commit selfless acts like this."

A smirk pulled at Leo’s features, as if he could not fathom the conversation. He scoffed.

"This again? Honestly, does it ever satisfy you? Instead of harboring such reckless curiosity and dissecting my personality, just accept the help and move on. I am not some intricate puzzle awaiting your solution."

"..."

Leo shook his head.

"If that is the end of the inquiry, I am departing."

He turned and paced forward—

—until her voice drifted behind him, quieter, thinner, and so fragile that he nearly missed the sound.

"I am sick."

Leo froze in his tracks.

He pivoted back. Lea was still staring at the ground. Her fists were clenched with enough intensity to make her knuckles turn white.

"...What are you implying by 'sick'? Does it mean you are suffering from a fever?"

Lea shook her head. Lifting her gaze just a fraction, she offered him a small, melancholic smile, though her eyes were heavy with a profound sense of resignation.

"I have fibromyalgia," she confessed. "It is a condition involving chronic, pervasive pain."

Leo’s eyes widened by degrees.

"You may find it hard to believe, but I was homeschooled until middle school. I have dealt with this since the age of six..."

"Is... is there a medical solution?"

She gave a dejected shake of her head.

"There is not. But I have become more proficient at managing it. That is the only reason my parents permitted me to attend middle school at all."

"...I see."

Lea observed him with a wry smile.

"Surprisingly, this is the first time I have revealed this to a soul. No one knows except my parents, the principal, and a select few teachers. I suppose I guarded this secret... precisely because of the look you are wearing at this moment."

It was only to be expected. Even Leo—despite his cold exterior—could not suppress the wave of pity that flooded his features.

"...It is simply surreal to witness you like this," Lea commented before breaking into a faint laugh.

"So please, refrain from making that face."

"...My apologies."

She giggled softly again.

"Now you look genuinely remorseful."

Leo was clearly struggling. For the first time in an age, he was at a loss for words—unsure of what expression to adopt or even how to stand without feeling entirely out of his element.

"At the very least, it is refreshing to see," Lea added.

Leo exhaled and forced his voice to function.

"Why are you revealing this to me—of all people?"

Lea looked back down. When she replied, her tone had mellowed considerably.

"I suppose... I wanted to ensure you understood me more deeply."

"..."

"For as long as I have lived, I have existed in constant ache. It is more manageable now, but in the past... I could neither sleep nor lift myself from my bed. Even when I did find rest, I would wake up utterly exhausted and in misery. Sound, light, surface contact—it all irritated my nerves. Hot or cold, it was all agony."

Her arm quivered as she clutched it, whether from the ambient chill of the room or from some internal turmoil he couldn't see.

"I was deprived of the experiences other children had. Playing outside. Learning in a traditional setting. Even simple hobbies were out of reach. I was... envious. And I was furious. Why must I bear such suffering? It felt fundamentally unjust."

She continued, her voice gaining momentum.

"I suspect that is why I am perpetually so curious. I missed such a vast portion of existence, and I am desperate to reclaim it. Even now—after finally reaching middle school, establishing friendships, and succeeding in my studies—it never feels like enough. It will never satisfy me, because I never know when a fresh flare-up will strike and steal it all away again."

Her voice cracked like shattered ceramic.

"It terrifies me. I am genuinely frightened. I despise it. And even right now, I am experiencing pain—but if it escalates..." She took a ragged, shaky breath. "I am terrified of losing everything I have constructed. I do not wish to be solitary and bedridden again, hurting with every breath. That is why I am so obsessive about making the most of every second."

Then, she looked at him with an expression of tender understanding.

"And I cannot help it, but when I fix my eyes on you... I see a mirror of my own struggle." Her gaze locked with his.

"I cannot rationalize why. But I am certain of this: you are hunting for something with the same desperation, are you not? You claim you are uncertain why you act as though you harbor disdain for everyone... but it is because you covet something so intensely that you are willing to embrace isolation for its sake. Is that not the case?"

Leo pressed his lips into a thin line.

Lea continued, her voice quiet yet resolute.

"Not simply today. I have observed it repeatedly. Nathan has told me as much, too. You forgo meals, stay into the night for practice, and push through exhaustion that makes you look as though you might collapse while standing, all because you have not had adequate sleep." She hesitated. "There is only one thing you are truly devoted to, regardless of the cost. The piano."

Leo studied the floor for a long silence.

"Yeah," he said finally.

"Your assessment is accurate."

Lea appeared taken aback—evidently, she had not expected him to concede so easily.

"Can..." she faltered, then asked, "can I venture to ask why?"

Leo considered the question for a moment. Then he retorted.

"I have a duty to create the perfect composition."

Lea’s eyes went wide.

"You... have a duty to?"

Leo gave a singular nod.

"...But is 'perfection' not entirely subjective?" she ventured cautiously.

"Perhaps," Leo conceded.

"But until it achieves perfection within my own mind... I will never cease."

"Why...?" Lea’s tone grew softer, then she abruptly stopped herself. She turned her eyes away.

"Forgive me. I should not have inquired."

Leo gave a negative shake of his head.

"It is of no consequence."

"...I am sorry for burdening you with this information. I simply—"

"You are fine."

Leo measured her with his eyes, his expression undergoing a shift, becoming more nuanced, softer.

"I comprehend your motivations for telling me," he said. "And I give you my word that I will keep this confidential."

Lea scrutinized his face for several seconds. Eventually, she nodded.

"Thank you... I must be going."

Leo stepped aside. Lea maneuvered past him and began walking down the corridor.

Leo watched her departing silhouette. He felt a moment of profound hesitation.

What... a cruel hand of fate.

He finally steeled his resolve and called out,

"Memories."

Lea ceased her movement and looked back, a confused expression etched on her face.

"It is a different journey than yours. But... I desired to craft something of that nature as well. Precious memories. Or, at the very least, I wanted to see if I myself was capable of such a feat."

Lea’s eyes widened—then they softened into something gentle.

She bestowed upon him a smile that was both sweet and tinged with sorrow.

"Then... I truly hope we both forge memories that we shall never feel the need to forget."