"You've disappointed me."
The cold voice reached his ears, and Idiot turned to see the icy, stern face of Principal Kampas.
However, at that moment, outside the window of the dilapidated hut, fireworks suddenly burst into the black sky, one after another, lighting up in a crescendo of colors. It signified the cheering climax of the Holy Night Festival, and the year 1180 was drawing to a close.
Idiot reached out with both hands, lifting Bread, and held her close. Principal Kampas was sitting in a chair by the table, looking at him with a cold and dissatisfied expression, and said—
"I've expected you at the assembly hall at six o'clock, yet you were asleep? How dare you? It seems you really think you've grown up, that you no longer need to follow my orders, doesn't it?"
Idiot bowed his head, gently caressing Bread's sleeping face, keeping silent as he had used to.
"Do you really know what happened?" Kampas asked with a snort.
"…"
