Medical leave. Medical leave, huh? Ha, really. The more I think about it, the more ridiculous it is.
The words keep circling in my head like a bad joke I can't escape from.
Did they see "medical" written on it and think it meant "soldier" or something?
At this point, it feels like the only explanation.
This is driving me crazy. What good is having handsome faces when what's above them is so lacking?
The empire's finest young talents, they say—yet all four of them share one brain cell at best.
Maybe male leads are supposed to be this oblivious or have a screw loose?
Come to think of it, male leads in romance fantasy novels tend to have that tendency.
Not a thought in their heads unless it's about the heroine.
Perhaps that's why Selena rejected all four of them.
Good for her, honestly. I'd reject them too.
"Leon."
Speak of the devil. Is it the female lead's turn to appear now?
Her timing is impeccable—as expected of a main character.
"Selena?"
"Do you have a moment?"
"Uh... I'm free, but are you okay? Weren't you busy with graduation?"
I try to sound casual, though I can feel my shoulders stiffening just from talking to her.
"I earned enough credits in advance, so I have some time. Let's have some tea. Or coffee."
"I'll go with coffee."
In my previous life, my people were the type to drink iced americanos even when freezing to death.
Honestly, water steeped with leaves doesn't suit my taste.
Give me something bitter and dark—something that tastes like responsibility and regret.
I sit down with Selena at the same café table as yesterday.
The place looks exactly the same, but the air feels different.
Heavier. More careful.
I wondered if she was also going to ask me about the quartet's whereabouts.
Those four walking disasters have been clinging around her like puppies since forever.
I subtly examined her expression, but didn't notice anything unusual.
No suspicion, no annoyance, no hints of an interrogation.
Just calm, composed Selena—too calm, almost.
What is she thinking?
"Um, Leon."
"Yes, Selena."
"About what you said a few days ago. About you enlisting as a common soldier. It really wasn't... because of me, was it?"
Actually, it was! It was because of you! So feel guilty! Hah!
…Of course, I hope no one in this world would actually say that. Please.
"How could it be? No matter how painful rejection after confession might be, what noble's son would suddenly enlist as a common soldier? Did I seem that strange to you?"
That case does exist right here. This is truly beyond absurd, my past self.
I want to grab that idiot by the collar and shake some sense into him—if only time travel existed.
"Not really... but it keeps bothering me."
The one fortunate thing is Selena's answer that she didn't see me as that crazy.
At least she doesn't think I'm the type to throw away my entire future because of a single rejection…
Even though I am exactly that type. Or was.
"Um, could you tell me more about the military?"
"Huh?"
What is she saying?
Isn't military talk something women hate more than soccer and gaming?
Why are such words coming out of Selena's mouth?
Why does she—of all people—want to hear this?
"Is there anything I can sympathize with or get angry about together?"
"Huh? Well... there is some, but you don't really need to. I was dragged into war right after enlisting. While some soldiers experienced absurdities, I went through a fiery hell."
As the words leave my mouth, memories surface—the smell of smoke, blood on frozen soil, the screams that stuck to the sky like scars.
It wasn't a war that required the entire imperial army, but it was still an intense battle.
It was serious enough that two regular legions were deployed.
Enough to break people. Enough to reshape me.
And now here I am… talking about it over coffee with the woman I once confessed to.
Life is weird.
"But if you want to hear... shall I start from the first day of the war? I was on duty when suddenly—"
Military stories just happen even if you're just sitting there.
Once you open your mouth, they pour out like a broken dam.
Naturally, more come out of my mouth since I was in the middle of the battlefield.
One memory leads to another—gunfire, explosions, orders yelled over chaos.
It feels like I just chatted briefly, but 30 minutes have already passed.
Half an hour gone, just like that.
Wondering if I talked too much, I checked her reaction, but Selena was just nodding along.
No sighs, no awkward shifting—just quietly listening, eyes steady.
Thinking I might have rambled too much, I subtly changed the subject.
I clear my throat, pretending it's intentional.
"Right. Speaking of which, your brother. Haven't you heard stories from him?"
"Huh? Well... he didn't share much, probably because it was too difficult. But if there's one thing he did mention... ah, right. The story of a soldier who rescued my brother and his unit."
"...Rescue? A soldier?"
My heartbeat stutters.
Her brother's unit… rescued?
By one soldier?
Selena, please tell me more about your brother's military stories.
Please.
Because something in my chest—something heavy—suddenly refuses to stay still.