Chapter Text
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“Loved tonight, seriously! Text me when you get home.” She slipped into the taxi, giving him one last wave before shutting the door.
“It was nothing, I had a good time too.” Leona forced the best fake smile he could manage, softening his naturally irritated expression.
He watched the taxi disappear into the night.
He didn’t even remember the girl’s name.
Honestly, he never wanted to see her again anyway. Just another spoiled rich girl convinced every guy in existence should worship the ground she walked on.
Still, even if the date had been awful, that wasn’t an excuse to leave her alone out there. She looked dumb enough to somehow lose a fight against ordering a cab.
Unfortunately for him, his phone started ringing again.
His brother.
Probably calling to ask about the setup date he’d forced onto him.
“What do you want?” Leona answered flatly.
“Do you have to sound like that? I’m your older brother—”
“If you don’t get to the point, I’m hanging up.”
“Fine, fine. How was the date? She’s a wonderful girl, and her family is nobility.” His brother sounded weirdly excited. Proud, even.
“I never want that girl within a ten-foot radius of me again.”
Leona practically spat the words out, glaring as his taxi finally pulled up.
Without another word, he hung up directly in his brother’s face and climbed into the car without a shred of guilt.
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The walk back was strangely quiet.
Especially around the Mirror Chamber at this hour.
“What is that smell—?”
Leona’s nose twitched immediately.
Hibiscus. Herbs. Floral.
Way too floral.
Only one person on campus smelled this aggressively expensive.
“And what exactly do you think you’re doing outside the dorms this late at night?”
Vil Schoenheit.
Objectively the second worst person he could’ve run into right now.
The first being Riddle.
Vil held his magic pen up toward the approaching shadow, expression sharp and tense like he was seconds away from attacking.
“Relax that pretty little face, Your Majesty. It’s just me.” Leona lifted both hands lazily in surrender.
“Oh. It’s you, Leona.”
Vil’s voice instantly flattened into something emotionless, dragging out his name with obvious disappointment.
“Wow. Keep reacting like that and I’m gonna start feeling hurt~”
Leona grinned teasingly while Vil crossed his arms with an exhausted sigh.
“You’re impossible. Anyway, why are you outside campus this late?”
Vil rubbed his temple like he already regretted speaking to him.
“And why would I tell you?”
Leona physically could not stop himself from provoking him.
Watching Vil’s patience visibly evaporate was entertaining.
Still… Leona technically had a point.
He didn’t owe Vil details about his personal life.
Especially not that.
“If you weren’t gonna answer, you could’ve saved your precious breath.”
Vil tried not to look annoyed, but the tiny pout forming on his face completely gave him away.
Leona noticed immediately.
“If you wanna know that badly, I was on a date, princess.”
Vil’s entire expression changed instantly.
Shock.
Pure disbelief.
Like Leona had just announced he’d attended class voluntarily for once.
The reaction made something warm stir inside Leona’s chest.
“Aww, don’t tell me you’re jealous? Hate to break it to you, princess, but I’m not the loyal type~”
Leona flashed him that same smug grin he always used to provoke him.
Vil suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to wipe that smile off his face.
One way or another.
“Me? Jealous of you?”
Vil laughed.
An actual genuine laugh.
At least… Leona thought it was genuine.
With Vil’s acting skills, who knew anymore?
“I think it’s more likely for you to pass all your classes than for me to get jealous over someone like you.”
Vil kept laughing openly.
And for some reason, Leona felt a weird sting in his chest.
He immediately blamed the awful food from earlier.
Probably indigestion.
Still…
A part of him liked seeing Vil smile like that.
And maybe, deep down somewhere, he wished he could’ve been the reason for it.
Not the joke.
“Anyway, go back to your dorm.”
Vil abruptly stopped laughing, expression turning serious again.
“Easy there, princess. Why’re you out here?”
“Jack asked to borrow some of my potion notes.”
Leona blinked slowly.
“…He’s a first year. Why would he ask you for notes?”
“Because unlike you, I actually attended class during my first year. And I kept all my notes.”
Vil looked way too satisfied with himself.
“We weren’t even in the same class, smartass,” Leona muttered under his breath.
“Whatever. Since you’re here, can you give these to him for me?”
Vil held out a plaid folder tied neatly with a ribbon.
Of course it smelled like flowers too.
That sweet scent immediately flooded Leona’s senses again.
At this point, he genuinely couldn’t tell if it was the folder or Vil’s hands.
Did this guy spray perfume on paper?
“And what exactly do I get out of it?” Leona took the folder carefully, like it might explode.
“I won’t have to step foot inside the filthy zoo you call a dorm, and you won’t have to suffer through my ‘herbivore smell.’”
Vil made air quotes dramatically.
“Perfect. Keeping you away from my territory sounds great to me.”
Leona turned away without even saying goodnight before stepping through the mirror.
“How rude,” Vil muttered quietly.
Leona heard him.
And ignored him completely.
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Leona felt immediate relief the second he finally got back to Savanaclaw.
His room was only a few steps away.
Weirdly enough, all the lights were already off.
Huh.
Guess everyone actually decided to sleep early for once.
As he glanced down at his hand, he realized he was still holding Vil’s folder.
Damn it.
Now that scent was definitely gonna stick to him.
Jack was probably already asleep.
For a moment, Leona considered waking him up just to get rid of the thing.
“Tch… I’ll give it to him tomorrow.”
He walked straight past Jack’s door.
The second he entered his room, he tossed the folder onto the bed and started getting ready to sleep.
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“Ah… you’re awake, Leona?”
The voice came soft and smooth, warm enough to melt directly into the sunlight behind his eyelids.
There was no urgency in it.
Only warmth.
Gentle.
Too gentle for someone like him.
Leona frowned slightly, still stuck somewhere between sleep and consciousness as delicate fingers brushed his hair away from his forehead with impossible care.
It was almost annoying how gentle it felt.
He forced his eyes open.
All he could make out was a blurry figure wrapped in golden light, pale strands of hair almost dissolving into the brightness itself.
“…Who are you?” he muttered hoarsely. “Actually, forget that— what are you doing here?”
Leona grabbed the figure’s wrist lazily, tugging them closer before they could disappear.
A soft laugh escaped them.
Low.
Close.
Sweet enough to send a shiver down his spine.
“What do you mean, ‘who’? It’s me, silly.”
Skilled fingers slipped through Leona’s messy hair, carefully undoing every knot.
It felt familiar.
Dangerously comforting.
And then came the scent.
Sweet. Soft.
Vanilla mixed with plum.
Something in his chest tightened painfully, like an old forgotten memory trying to claw its way back to the surface.
Without resisting, Leona let his head fall into the figure’s lap.
Warm.
Soft.
Comfortable in a way that felt almost dangerous.
Too easy.
“Come on, my prince. You need to wake up.”
Gentle hands cupped his face, pulling him closer.
Leona gave in immediately.
No resistance left whatsoever.
Then soft lips pressed briefly against his own.
A small, innocent kiss.
And for a moment, Leona completely froze.
Like his body had forgotten how to react.
But only for a moment.
Because seconds later, he leaned forward again instinctively, chasing that warmth before it could disappear.
What started hesitant quickly deepened into something slower.
Closer.
The kisses lingered longer than they should have.
Touches softened.
Breaths mixed.
And when they finally pulled apart enough to breathe again, their eyes opened at almost the exact same time.
The haze vanished instantly.
The blurry silhouette sharpened into real features.
Real expression.
Real eyes.
Vil.
For one single second, the entire world stopped.
Leona could only stare at him, too shocked to move.
Then, just as he reached out toward him—
A voice shattered everything.
Vil’s figure dissolved immediately, the warmth disappearing alongside him.
Leaving Leona cold.
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The hand that had been reaching toward Vil suddenly changed environments, returning to the quiet and messy reality of his bedroom, stretching instead toward another figure entirely.
It was Ruggie, standing there with two pans in his hands, apparently using them to wake Leona up.
“Finally. Thought you died in your sleep.” The smug grin on Ruggie’s face instantly irritated Leona.
“Tch, think I’m skipping today.” Leona muttered while dragging the blanket back over himself.
“I’d love to let you skip, but Rook came by earlier saying Crewel’s doing one giant class with every dorm mixed together, and you gotta be there.” Leona’s expression twisted the second Ruggie mentioned Rook. Why the hell did that weirdo come here?
“If that’s the case, go make my breakfast.” Leona muttered a string of curses at the beginning and end of the sentence.
Ruggie nodded, but then his eyes landed on the folder resting on Leona’s bed, something that obviously didn’t belong to him.
“Oh wow, cute folder. Especially the ribbon, very delicate.” Ruggie snickered with that signature laugh of his.
Leona immediately felt his face heat up in annoyance. He had only just realized it now.
He’d fallen asleep practically face-first against the folder.
Which honestly explained the weird dream.
And if he was being honest with himself, he was disappointed it hadn’t been real.
The affection, the kiss, the warmth of Vil’s lap beneath him… part of him wondered if reality would feel the same.
But seriously, what the hell was he thinking? Thinking about Vil, even worse, about what kissing him for real would feel like.
“Man, shut your ass up for thirty minutes, Ruggie.” The younger boy walked out of the room laughing, leaving Leona alone with his thoughts.
Without even noticing, Leona brought his fingers to his lips, wondering what Vil would actually taste like. Would he taste like the perfume he wore?
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Leona was still trapped inside his previous daze, like part of him was still stuck inside that dream.
His thoughts kept spiraling nonstop as he walked through the halls of Savanaclaw.
What the hell even was that dream? Some subconscious desire, or just loneliness? And why did it have to be Schoenheit of all people, that arrogant peacock?
But if reality were anything like the dream, would it really be that bad? Maybe Vil would actually be more tolerable. Those lips sweet as honey… even knowing it was just a dream, Leona couldn’t stop thinking about them.
“Leona!” A shout snapped him out of his thoughts once again. Jack. Why the hell did that guy have to be so loud this early in the morning?
“Yeah?” Leona answered without turning around, rubbing his ear dramatically after the near-lethal volume of Jack’s voice.
“Vil said he left the notes with you. Can you give them to me, please?” The freshman avoided eye contact the second Leona looked his way.
“Oh, right. That thing.” The dorm leader scratched the back of his neck. Something inside him absolutely refused to let anyone else take something that smelled like Vil.
He still wanted that scent around before going to sleep.
Maybe hoping for another dream like that one, something soft and comforting.
But seriously, why was he hesitating this much? And why did his brain keep circling back to all this nonsense?
“Have Ruggie grab it from my room.” The younger boy nodded enthusiastically. Seriously, where did people get this much energy in the morning?
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To everyone’s surprise, Kingscholar actually showed up to class, and even worse, it was one of the lectures shared with all the third years, meaning Malleus and Rook would both be there.
Just remembering that alone was enough to make Leona reconsider every decision that brought him here.
“Bonjour, Roi des Lions~” That voice alone made the poor lion physically recoil. At that exact moment, he genuinely questioned why he had even come to class.
That bowl-cut menace somehow managed to be irritating with only a few words, and they weren’t even directed at annoying him.
“What do you want?” Leona wore a look of disgust so obvious it might as well have been written across his forehead. Vaguely, he remembered Ruggie mentioning Rook had been hanging around Savanaclaw earlier.
“And another thing, why the hell were you in my dorm?” Leona’s tone became openly accusatory.
“Oui, oui, oui~ I merely lost myself during a lovely morning stroll.” Rook raised his hands in surrender. Even if Leona wasn’t exactly amazing at reading people…
This one was obvious.
No, not obvious. It was basically a giant neon billboard flashing in the middle of the night.
Rook was lying his ass off.
That suspicion only grew stronger when Vil walked into the classroom.
Stunning as always, Leona genuinely couldn’t explain it, but it looked like Vil had glitter surrounding him, like he naturally glowed.
The floral scent of his perfume reached Leona from across the room, and before he could stop himself, his tail swished happily behind him.
God, that scent was unfairly good. For the first time in his life, Leona felt grateful for his enhanced beastman senses. Honestly, he’d probably go to war just to smell that perfume every single day.
The second Leona realized what he was thinking, his tail froze instantly, and he nearly growled at himself.
What the hell was wrong with him? This was Vil Schoenheit. Arrogant, dramatic, controlling, vain, egotistical… Leona could probably spend hours insulting him if he wanted to.
Still, Rook looked oddly tense from the second Vil entered the room. Did that freak seriously piss off the princess?
“Rook, what’d you do to Vil?” Too lazy for subtlety, Leona went straight for the question.
Rook froze instantly, like he’d just heard a judge read out a prison sentence.
“Mes sept… this time, I admit it may have partially been my fault.” Rook lowered his head dramatically in defeat, and honestly, that made Leona weirdly happy. Your enemy’s suffering is your happiness and all that.
“I accidentally shattered the Roi du Poison’s crystal vase.” The hunter sighed dramatically. “He is currently quite furious with me.”
“So you hid in Savanaclaw because of a vase? I doubt Vil would lose it over just a vase.” The second prince was actually starting to get invested in the story.
“Ah, but there is more.” Rook clasped his hands together dramatically. “I spilled water directly onto him immediately after he finished his makeup.”
An image instantly formed in Leona’s head. Vil soaked head to toe, makeup ruined.
Part of him found it hilarious. Vil Schoenheit aesthetically destroyed was objectively funny.
But another part of him felt strangely bad, like he wanted to have been there. To hand Vil a towel. To help him fix everything.
“To be fair, I don’t blame him.” Leona rested his chin against his hand, trying to hide where his gaze kept drifting.
Vil. Again.
Like something about him kept pulling Leona closer no matter what.
For a few moments, the entire world blurred around the edges until all Leona could focus on was Vil.
Something about him kept dragging Leona in. Maybe the shine of the gloss on his lips, or maybe the perfume.
Those lips…
God, what wouldn’t he do to ruin that gloss? Taste it. Feel it. Were they really as soft as they looked? Maybe plush. Warm.
Hell, Leona would probably give up anything just to get Vil alone for a few uninterrupted minutes and—
“Roi des Lions, are you listening? Or are you lost in one of your luxurious fantasies again?” Rook’s voice was annoying enough to make Leona briefly consider homicide.
Before he could even respond, he suddenly felt a sharp stare burning into him.
The atmosphere genuinely felt colder.
Leona instinctively turned toward the source of that feeling.
Vil.
And suddenly everything made sense.
Vil was still furious with Rook, and if Leona didn’t get that disaster away from him immediately, he’d probably become collateral damage.
Leona’s blood ran cold at the thought of genuinely angry Vil. Not because he was scared or anything. Obviously.
But still, better safe than sorry.
“Rook, scram before your queen decides to take his anger out on me, and trust me, you’ll be the one suffering for it later.” Leona turned his face away dismissively.
Rook didn’t even look offended. He simply tipped his hat dramatically before disappearing.
Leona immediately felt like he had narrowly avoided getting murdered.
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Looking around the classroom full of exhausted teenagers, only one thought crossed Leona’s mind, aside from Vil.
“You’ll be working in pairs today, pups~” Crewel’s words echoed inside Leona’s head like an annoying song stuck on repeat.
Great. He didn’t have a partner. Might as well see which other poor souls got unlucky too.
To his right sat the mentally unstable disaster known as Rook. Honestly, Leona would rather work with an empty chair than with that guy. Staying at least ten feet away from the hunter felt safer for everyone involved.
To his left—
Malleus Draconia.
Fantastic.
The only person on campus equally as unbearable as Rook.
Honestly, working alone sounded better at this point. And why was this apparently the first time in years someone actually remembered to invite Malleus to class?
“Between Malleus and Rook… honestly, Idia sounds like the better option.”
Leona scanned the room desperately for the blue-haired student like he was his last hope for survival.
“Oh thank god, he’s alone too—”
The exact second Leona thought that, Malleus casually dragged Idia into being his partner.
Leona stared blankly ahead for a moment.
The universe genuinely hated him.
Which meant the only option left was Rook.
Then a familiar scent drifted closer.
Leona turned toward it so fast it looked instinctive.
“Kingscholar, are you without a partner?” Vil himself stood there with one hand on his hip, perfectly manicured nails visible under the classroom lights, probably freshly done the night before.
Leona’s brain immediately replayed the sound of Vil saying his surname over and over.
Why the hell did his voice sound so much smoother than usual? Soft and sharp at the same time.
“Looks like the queen lost his loyal hunter, huh?” Leona genuinely tried to give Vil a decent response, but his thoughts were so scrambled for all the wrong reasons that even forming a proper insult felt impossible.
He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to control his tone, and worst of all, his stupid tail was wagging excitedly behind him again.
“I suppose I have no choice but to accept such a formal request from the great Vil Schoenheit.” Leona flashed him a lazy, teasing grin.
“As childish as ever, Kingscholar. I truly wonder what happened to your royal upbringing.” Vil spoke while pulling out the chair beside him and sitting down gracefully next to the lion.
And immediately, Leona’s entire brain short-circuited.
Even though he had already agreed to partner with Vil, the second the model actually sat beside him, Leona completely lost control of himself.
His tail started wagging so aggressively it was embarrassing.
And then the scent hit him again, stronger this time.
Instantly, his thoughts drifted back toward the dream.
Leona glanced sideways just in time to catch Vil reapplying his gloss once again.
That was basically throwing gasoline directly into a wildfire.
Leona’s thoughts immediately spiraled back toward Vil’s lips.
Was that the kind of gloss that made lips look fuller? And if it was… did that make any difference when kissing?
While casually “observing” Vil, Leona also noticed something else.
Vil’s uniform looked slightly looser than usual.
Not that Leona normally paid attention to things like that, but it felt strange for someone like Vil to make even the tiniest mistake in appearance, no matter how insignificant.
Vil was ridiculously strict with himself, honestly almost as bad as Riddle.
Maybe worse.
Vil tried so hard to be perfect without realizing he already—
A sharp smack suddenly landed against Leona’s back. It wasn’t painful, more like a loud slap just meant to get his attention, but it startled him badly anyway.
“Leona!” The prince’s tail instantly stiffened along with the rest of his posture.
“Quit yelling!” Leona snapped while turning toward the person beside him, baring his teeth instinctively in irritation.
His voice deepened automatically in an attempt to intimidate whoever had hit him.
Then his eyes finally met the attacker’s.
And immediately, every bit of confidence collapsed.
Vil stood there with an expression so cold and terrifying that Leona genuinely felt like the guy might stab him on the spot and then kick his corpse for good measure.
“You didn’t hear a single thing I said! It’s like talking to a damn wall!” Vil hissed sharply.
The scary part wasn’t even the volume.
Vil almost never yelled.
His voice stayed cold, rigid, and clipped, which somehow made it infinitely more terrifying.
“Anyway, now I have to explain the entire assignment again because the great Prince Kingscholar was apparently too busy sleeping to pay attention to either the professor or me.” Vil’s voice slowly lowered throughout the sentence until it became a bitter mutter near the end.
“…Fine.” Leona mumbled the word like someone forcing a wet cat into a bath.
He genuinely looked pathetic right now.
Flattened ears. Tail low behind him. Shoulders slumped.
Like a drenched stray cat caught in the rain.
Vil honestly couldn’t deny that he enjoyed provoking Leona sometimes, but it felt weird seeing him not fire insults back immediately.
The model genuinely didn’t understand where Leona found so much creativity for insults. If he dedicated even a third of that energy toward studying, neither Riddle nor Azul would stand a chance academically.
Vil absolutely did not want to admit it, but the way Leona reacted to the hit was kind of adorable.
The way he went from threatening predator to wet cat in under five seconds.
Vil quickly turned his face away, hiding the faint blush spreading across his cheeks at the thought of comparing Leona to a soaked housecat.
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Looking around the classroom full of teenagers, only one thought crossed Leona’s mind, besides Vil.
“Today’s assignment is in pairs, pups~” Crewel’s words kept looping in Leona’s head like one of those annoying songs that refused to leave.
Great. He didn’t have a partner.
Might as well see which poor bastards were left without one too.
To his right sat the actual menace to society known as Rook. Honestly, Leona would rather partner up with a chair than that guy. Staying at least ten feet away from the hunter felt like basic survival instinct.
To his left—
Malleus Draconia.
The only person capable of rivaling Rook in terms of being absolutely unbearable.
At this point, working alone sounded way better.
Also, why was this the first time all year— no, in YEARS — someone actually remembered to invite Malleus to class activities?
“Between Malleus and Rook, Idia’s suddenly looking real appealing.”
Leona scanned the room for the blue-haired shut-in like he was a final lifeline.
“Oh, nice. He’s alone too.”
The second that thought crossed his mind, Malleus casually dragged Idia into a pair.
Leona stared in disbelief.
The universe genuinely hated him.
Guess he was stuck with Rook after all.
Then he caught a familiar scent approaching.
His head snapped toward it immediately, like his body reacted before his brain could even process it.
“Kingscholar, are you without a partner?”
Vil.
In person.
Hands resting on his hips, perfectly manicured nails visible under the classroom lights, probably freshly done the night before.
Leona’s mind short-circuited replaying the way Vil said his surname.
Why the hell did his voice sound so much smoother today?
Soft and sexy at the same time—
“Looks like the queen got abandoned by his loyal hunter, huh?” Leona forced himself to answer somewhat normally, though his thoughts were a complete mess and he could barely form a proper insult.
He didn’t know what expression to make, didn’t know how to control his tone—
And worst of all, his damn tail was wagging excitedly behind him.
“I suppose I have no choice but to accept such a formal request from the great Vil Schoenheit.” Leona smirked lazily.
“As childish as ever, aren’t you, Kingscholar? Sometimes I wonder what happened to that royal education of yours.” Vil pulled out the chair beside him and sat down gracefully.
Leona had agreed to pair up with him, sure.
But the moment Vil actually sat beside him, his entire body blue-screened.
His tail started swishing so fast he almost wanted to rip it off himself.
And once Vil settled into the seat—
That scent hit him again.
Stronger this time.
Immediately, Leona’s thoughts dragged him right back to the dream.
He glanced sideways.
Vil was reapplying his lip gloss.
Which felt less like temptation and more like someone throwing gasoline directly into a wildfire.
Leona’s brain spiraled instantly.
‘Is that one of those glosses that make your lips look fuller? Does that make kissing feel different?’
While “casually observing” him, Leona noticed Vil’s uniform looked slightly looser than usual.
Not that he paid attention to things like that.
Usually.
But for someone as obsessive as Vil, even tiny imperfections stood out.
‘Vil’s almost as strict with himself as Riddle. Which is honestly insane.’
‘He tries so hard to be perfect that he doesn’t even realize he already is. At least to me—’
A sharp smack landed between Leona’s shoulders.
Not enough to hurt.
Just enough to startle the life out of him.
“Leona!”
His tail instantly puffed stiff, posture snapping straight.
“You don’t have to yell!” Leona whipped around, baring his teeth instinctively.
His voice dropped into a warning growl meant to intimidate whoever hit him—
Until he met Vil’s eyes.
And immediately deflated.
Not submissive.
Just survival instinct.
Vil’s expression looked terrifying.
Not only did he look like he wanted to stab Leona with an axe, he also looked fully prepared to kick him across the room afterward.
“For the love of the Seven, were you listening to ANYTHING I said?! I may as well have been talking to a brick wall!” Vil rarely yelled, which honestly made it scarier. His voice stayed sharp and cold, every word clipped with irritation.
“Anyway, now I have to explain the entire assignment again because the great prince was apparently too busy napping with his eyes open to hear a single word from the professor. Or from me.” Vil’s tone gradually lowered into an irritated mutter by the end.
“…Fine.” Leona mumbled reluctantly.
He looked like a drenched cat.
Ears lowered, tail drooping, posture completely deflated.
Vil hated to admit it—
But it was kind of adorable.
Usually Leona always snapped back with some creative insult.
Honestly, Vil had no idea where he even came up with half of them. If Leona put even a third of that effort into academics, neither Riddle nor Azul would stand a chance against him.
Still.
The way Leona went from aggressive to pathetic in under three seconds after getting scolded—
Cute.
Vil quickly turned his face away, hiding the faint flush creeping onto his cheeks.
Thinking about Leona as a wet cat was not something he needed to unpack right now.
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Making potions was miserable for several reasons.
The chemical smell.
The possibility of getting burned alive.
And currently, the worst issue of all—
Vil.
That guy criticized literally everything, down to the way Leona held a damn pen.
“I already told you to hold the flask properly. It goes in one ear and right out the other with you.” Vil stirred the cauldron while speaking.
“Maybe if you stopped yapping like a damn crow, I’d consider listening.” Leona shot back automatically.
“If you listened the first time, I wouldn’t HAVE to repeat myself.” Vil leaned closer while still stirring the potion.
“If you learned how to talk like a normal person maybe I’d listen. Honestly, now I get why poor Epel spends extra hours training just to avoid Pomefiore.”
Vil’s face twisted into a massive glare.
“Maybe because you torment him so much he’d rather exhaust himself than spend free time around you.”
“So we’re doing this today?” Vil narrowed his eyes even further.
Leona grinned smugly.
Watching Vil get irritated was genuinely entertaining.
Sure, poking him was basically kicking a hornet’s nest barefoot—
But who cared?
It was fun.
“If you stopped acting like an overgrown child, maybe your team would actually stand a chance against Malleus.”
Vil smiled victoriously, pointing a finger at him like he’d delivered the finishing blow.
Leona’s eye visibly twitched.
Vil swore he could practically hear a string snap somewhere inside him.
“Maybe if Mister Perfect stopped expecting everyone else to fit his impossible standards, your relationship with Epel wouldn’t be such a disaster.” Leona made air quotes around the word “perfect.”
After that, the argument completely devolved into pointless insults.
Above them, Rook watched with disturbing fascination.
So fascinated, in fact, that he accidentally knocked an empty vial onto the floor behind Leona.
The sudden crash startled the beastman badly enough that he jerked backward—
Straight into Vil, who was holding another ingredient over the cauldron.
The chemical dropped in.
And instantly—
Purple foam exploded all over both dorm leaders.
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“WHAT WERE YOU THINKING SHOVING ME, YOU ABSOLUTE BRUTE?!”
It took three students, including Rook, to hold Vil back while Lilia desperately tried to calm things down.
“Shove you? I’d rather lick radioactive waste than do something that childish.” Leona wiped purple sludge off himself with a wet cloth.
Compared to Vil, he looked weirdly calm.
Vil, meanwhile, looked two seconds away from committing manslaughter.
Eventually Leona started tuning out Vil’s yelling altogether, absentmindedly cleaning his lab coat while lost in thought.
Then he glanced over.
And paused.
Vil had finally calmed down.
The potion foam had soaked through his clothes and dampened his hair slightly.
With an irritated sigh, Vil removed his lab coat and vest to wash later, leaving only the school dress shirt underneath.
Parts of the fabric clung faintly to him from the moisture.
Messy.
Disheveled.
Far from the polished perfection Vil usually maintained.
And somehow—
Leona found that version of him even prettier.
The perfect prince looking imperfect for once.
Not by choice,j ust by accident.
Leona genuinely thought Vil pushed himself way too hard.
Maybe stuff like this would finally teach him to loosen up a little.
Or maybe it’d just guarantee Vil never partnered with him again.
“Why are you staring at me like that? Do I look like a piece of meat?” Vil asked irritably, though there wasn’t much real anger behind it anymore.
“I think you threw yourself at me on purpose.” Leona smirked before he could stop himself.
“And quit looking like a soaked kitten. I’m supposed to be the cat here, princess.”
A loud crack echoed through the room.
The last thing Leona felt before blacking out briefly—
Was a chair flying directly into his head courtesy of Vil’s magic.
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“Captain.”
Leona turned toward Epel, who looked oddly nervous just calling for him.
“Hm?” He shifted his body fully toward the younger student.
“Maybe this is kinda rude to ask, but… what’s that bump on your forehead?” Epel pointed toward the swelling on Leona’s head.
“An accident during Crewel’s class.” There was no way in hell Leona was about to admit that the lovely injury had been caused by Vil throwing a chair at him in a fit of rage.
Especially not to Epel.
The kid already wasn’t exactly Pomefiore’s biggest fan. If he found out Vil did that, it’d only make things worse.
Though maybe Epel would just think Vil looked more “manly” for it. Or completely insane. Honestly, probably both.
“But how? No offense, I’m not doubting you or anything, I just wanna know so I don’t repeat it.” Lie. Epel hated admitting it, but he was absolutely a little nosy.
Actually, everyone at NRC was nosy.
Before Leona could even come up with an excuse, he heard a very familiar voice rambling nearby.
‘No fucking way.’
His attacker.
The same person who launched a chair at his skull.
Vil.
“Rook? Vil? What a surprise.” Epel’s tone carried a hint of sarcasm, though not enough for either of them to notice.
“Monsieur Pommette! The Roi du Poison and I came to support you!” Rook sounded absurdly proud of himself, like a parent showing up to their kid’s recital.
“Rook got suspended from club activities, and so did I, so he suggested we come here instead.” Vil crossed his arms, expression calm but carrying clear irritation underneath.
“I came to determine whether this barbaric little club is actually worth your time.” Vil’s gaze shifted toward Leona immediately, sharp enough to freeze blood.
Leona felt his entire nervous system activate.
And naturally, seeing an opportunity to annoy Vil, he walked closer to the fence where the Pomefiore trio stood.
“Says the person who threw a chair at me. Not very elegant of you, princess.” Leona rested a hand on Epel’s shoulder.
“For people like you, losing composure long enough to deliver necessary punishment is perfectly elegant.”
“You didn’t look very elegant when you were soaking wet and completely disheveled in front of me.” Leona smirked, waiting for Vil’s reaction.
“And whose fault was that? You got so distracted by my beauty that you dumped the entire potion into the cauldron.”
“Beauty? I was more impressed by your lack of manners. Seriously, how does someone become THAT full of themselves?”
Epel looked back and forth between them like a confused puppy watching divorced parents fight at a school event.
Rook noticed the argument escalating dangerously fast and immediately intervened before Leona risked taking another chair to the head.
“I believe the Roi des Lions and young Epel should resume training now.” Rook placed a hand on Vil’s shoulder before he could reach for his magic pen.
“Hm. Fine. I’d rather see what this brainless brute is teaching my apple anyway.”
Leona used every ounce of self-control in his body not to answer that.
Rook gently guided Vil back toward the seats, visibly relieved to have avoided another public murder attempt.
Vil sat down elegantly, crossing his legs before opening a parasol over himself and putting on sunglasses while Rook fanned him dramatically beside his chair.
Leona thought the sunglasses looked ridiculous.
But he valued his life enough not to say that out loud.
Pomefiore’s uniform had way too many layers for this weather, so obviously Vil was sweating.
Beside Leona, Epel stared openly at his upperclassmen, especially Vil.
Which Leona also happened to be doing.
“Why’d Vil wear such heavy clothes out here? All this just to avoid the sun? He’s so stubborn.” Epel still sounded genuinely baffled.
“Your ‘gracious’ dorm leader is the most stubborn, arrogant, narcissistic, self-absorbed person I’ve ever met.” Honestly, Leona could’ve kept going for several more minutes, but he didn’t want to traumatize the kid.
“Anyway, get back to training.” Leona ruffled Epel’s hair lightly.
Epel practically lit up from the attention.
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“Four more laps. Anyone complains and I’m making it eight!”
Leona shouted toward the Spelldrive team.
The entire club looked exhausted.
Except for Pomefiore’s youngest representative.
Well, Epel was exhausted too, obviously, but because he desperately wanted to impress Vil and prove he wasn’t some fragile porcelain doll, he refused to show weakness.
“Yes, captain!” Epel forced his voice deeper while answering.
The rest of the team slowly dragged themselves upright, muttering things like “the captain’s insane” and “I’m gonna die.”
Before Leona could yell at them for slacking off, something tugged sharply at his shoulder.
Actually—
Someone grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him hard enough to throw him off balance.
“Forgive the interruption, but don’t you think they’ve done enough already?” Vil again.
This time without the ridiculous sunglasses.
Only a folded fan resting in his free hand.
“Oh? The princess wants to critique my training methods now? Last I checked, the only competition you’d win is one for arrogance.” Leona brushed Vil’s hand off his shoulder.
His hand was soft.
Way too soft.
Even that brief touch was enough for Leona to notice.
‘Then again, what part of Vil WOULDN’T be soft—’
God.
Not this again.
Leona shook his head abruptly, confusing Vil slightly.
“Unlike you, I’m not completely dysfunctional. And I know enough about this barbaric activity to recognize that thirty-six laps is more than enough.” Vil’s tone sharpened slightly at the obvious jab toward Leona paying Ruggie to handle basic responsibilities.
“My sincerest apologies, Your Functional Majesty. I forgot you were even sitting in the bleachers.” Complete lie.
Leona had looked toward the stands practically every lap.
Which was exactly why he’d made them do so many.
“But if you’re so convinced they’re tired, you’re wrong. I’m not even exhausted.”
“Well, considering the only thing you do besides sleep is fly around on that broom all day, it’d actually be embarrassing if you WERE tired.” Vil made a little circular motion with his finger while saying “fly around.”
“Ask the team if they’re tired. They’ll tell you they’re not.” Leona pointed toward the exhausted group behind him, focusing specifically on Epel, who looked seconds away from collapsing.
“I guarantee they’ll say otherwise.”
Immediately, Leona turned toward the lilac-haired boy.
“Epel. You tired?”
“No, sir! I could do ten more laps!” Epel answered while visibly struggling to breathe.
“See? Nobody’s tired.” Leona turned back toward Vil, who looked genuinely surprised.
‘He looks good like that.’
This time, Leona didn’t even bother fighting the thought.
No matter how much he disliked Vil’s personality, it was impossible to deny how beautiful he was.
Honestly, maybe the prettiest person in the entire school.
No—
In all of Twisted Wonderland.
To Leona, Vil was infinitely more beautiful, elegant, talented, refined, hardworking, and captivating than that weird actor with the cow-licked hair everyone obsessed over.
“Ask literally anyone else. Epel’s way too proud to admit weakness around you. I genuinely don’t understand what he sees in you.” Vil sighed quietly.
“What DON’T you see, princess~?” Leona crossed his arms with a smug grin, tilting his chin upward as he tried to pull some kind of reaction from him.
At first, Vil simply looked surprised.
Not because Leona flirted with him — that happened constantly.
But this one felt… more direct somehow.
Heat crept into Vil’s cheeks before he could stop it, along with a sudden memory of something Epel had once said about Leona’s physique.
“Epel’s too young to recognize reality. If he actually understood what kind of person you are, he’d never idolize you.”
“Actually, your little apprentice has already seen everything I have to offer.” Leona watched Vil’s face go pale almost instantly.
Obviously, it was just another stupid joke.
“KINGSCHOLAR, IF YOU SO MUCH AS TOUCHED EPEL I SWEAR TO THE SEVEN I’LL KILL YOU!”
Vil’s shout rang so loudly Leona’s ears buzzed afterward.
Around them, the other students immediately started whispering.
Though with the ringing in his ears, Leona couldn’t make out a word.
“Relax, princess. I didn’t touch your precious little apple. Honestly, I’m offended you’d even think that.” Leona raised his hands dramatically in surrender.
“You’d better not have. You have absolutely no right to put your hands on Epel. If you’re going to touch anyone, it should only be—”
“Yes yes, Vil Schoenheit, king of dramatics, blah blah blah.” Leona interrupted him immediately.
“Talking to you is impossible!” Vil huffed angrily and stormed back toward Rook, who handed him a bottle of water like this happened daily.
A few moments later, the Pomefiore duo left entirely, dragging Epel along with them like exhausted parents hauling a child out of a toy store mid-tantrum.
Leona unexpectedly felt something oddly empty settle in his chest as Vil disappeared from sight.
But it was Vil.
He was probably just overheating from all those layers, right?