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“Master, what seems to be bothering you?”
Isaac Walker and his ever diligent master, Monica Everett, were resting in Monica's bought home in Southerndole. Isaac had managed to wrangle the Silent Witch from her menagerie of papers to enjoy a somewhat special day, an incredible feat in itself befitting of the Silent Witch’s disciple. He was currently laying a spread of tea snacks and piping hot coffee in Monica’s treasured moka pot. Yet despite the lack of physical work, his master sat on the living room couch with a pensive look, eyebrows knitted together.
“Ike…”
“Yes my master?”
“You’ve known Cyril-sama for a long time, right?”
Isaac’s perfect smile twitched ever-so slightly, but it seemed his master was too engrossed in her thoughts to notice. Cyril Ashley, his troublesome love rival and even more troublesome friend. It was vexing how easily his personhood could fill his beloved master’s head.
The man in question was currently running an errand for the Library Society in Sazandol, so the three had somewhat forcefully (at Monica’s request and Isaac’s skillful execution) convinced Cyril to spend the night at Monica’s home.
In fact, he’d asked them to briefly look after his bag with the two weasels and the ancient artifact Sophocles while he stepped out, which were still rustling with mischief on the dining room table. Cyril’s errand was meant to be quick, but it seemed he didn’t want to risk prolonging the trip by bringing a few companions. Isaac quickly recovered his expression and continued.
“Of course, what seems to be the issue?”
“Ike…” Monica’s face turned serious as she locked eyes with her disciple. “What does Cyril-sama like to do for fun?”
“...”
Isaac froze. What does Cyril do for fun? Does that blockhead do anything for fun?
“I’d asked Lana who told me she’d once asked Claudia, but not even Claudia knew...” Monica fidgeted with her fingers as she pressed them together. “It seems Cyril-sama has been studying diligently since she’d known him.”
His master was likely being considerate for their sleepover later that evening. While they had no shortage of entertaining board games, between the strategically talented Isaac and math genius Monica, Cyril often found himself manipulated by teammates and opponents alike. Somehow his shortcomings extended even to entirely luck-based games, as he seemed cursed to roll only the least helpful numbers.
“Monica, Cyril is likely to enjoy anything we do as long as we’re all having fun together.”
“That’s true… but I want us to do something he enjoys too,” she pouted. “He does seem to like cleaning…”
“Girl, cleaning isn’t an enjoyable activity.”
“Sophocles is right. Besides, that’s his coping mechanism, not a hobby.”
A white weasel with golden eyes and a golden weasel with a black ring in its mouth bounded over to the living room table— it seems they were attracted to the aroma of food and snacks despite their lack of need to eat.
Isaac had already anticipated this and set an extra two plates, each with a slice of lemon meringue pie. The golden weasel set the ring down on a comfortable looking couch cushion before digging in herself, a habit Cyril no doubt scolded them to adopt. What a stupidly earnest guy, Isaac thought.
“How about making tea? Cyril-sama was always making tea for the other student council members.”
“Even though Elliot called it a hobby, it seems like something Cyril only does to keep his hands busy. Besides, we can’t spend the whole night brewing pots of tea.”
“Urgh…”
Monica scrunched up her face in that adorably charming way of hers and pressed her hands into her cheeks. It was then that the weasels, who paused devouring their slices of pie, began to speak up.
“Pikeh, Pikeh. What’s a ‘hobby’?”
“It’s something humans do for fun.”
“Like rolling around? Or sledding?”
“Yes, or making ice statues. Or writing letters until your hands are covered in ink and dark bags droop under your eyes, like this.” The golden weasel made a circular motion under her eyes with her paws.
“You weasels wouldn’t know a hobby from a job…”
“Then what makes a hobby different?”
Both weasels tilted their heads cutely as Monica shivered, no doubt imagining Cyril writing late into the night. Her face then scrunched up again as she pondered it earnestly. Perhaps she was intent on reducing Cyril-sama’s troubles as much as possible.
“A hobby is… something that makes you smile when you do it! Like doing calculations, or reading mathematical theory books!”
“So all we have to do is think of things that make Cyril smile, is that right Pikeh?”
“That sounds about right.”
“.....”
This realization only pulled the room into another stagnant silence.
Yes, Cyril had a short temper and expressed no shortage of emotions, but he was rarely ever found smiling for organic reasons. Isaac could only think of one scenario where Cyril could smile with pure, unadulterated joy. It was when he’d praise Cyril with the face of the second prince, saying, “Good work” or, “I’m counting on you”, which never failed to turn Cyril into a blushing, smiling beam of light. In that case, would it make his master happy if they spent the whole night praising him?
Wait. There was one instance where Cyril smiled with the pride of a man enjoying himself despite his glaring lack of skill.
“Unyo…”
Monica visibly shivered. It seems she understood as she looked up at Isaac, an expression of horror on her face.
At that moment, they heard the sound of a carriage door closing from the open window, followed by quick, neat footsteps in a familiar tempo. Even though Cyril no longer emitted cold air, Monica was always looking for ways to sense when Issac’s troublesome love rival had arrived. She jumped from her seat and went to unlock the door.
Cyril was, expectedly, on the other side, hand awkwardly posed to knock. He looked like he wanted to scold Monica for not checking who it was before opening the door, but she quickly pulled him into the house before he could speak. Cyril could barely close the door behind him as he was dragged into the living room by his unusually energetic junior.
“C-Cyril-sama…!”
She looked intently into his blue, jewel-like eyes.
“W-what would you like to do for fun tonight! As your host, I promise to make it happen! Even if it’s… i-it’s….”
Watching Monica fidget uncomfortably, unable to finish her sentence, Cyril interjected.
“Hang on a second, Monica. I would enjoy any entertainment you have to provide as long as we’re spending the time together. There’s no need to go through so much trouble for my sake… besides, the board game we played at Raul’s house was perfectly enjoyable. I would very much like to play it again.”
“See? It’s as I said.”
“I-In that case, let’s all play it together!”
Monica sighed with relief. She seemed to have forgotten her previous reservations after considering that they might be subject to Cyril’s… unique artistic talent for the remainder of the day.
“If it’s a board game you’re playing, count me in. Vincent has made me into quite the menace, I must say.”
“Pikeh, is that the board game from before? I didn’t get to buy a castle.”
“Yes, I too haven’t finished my adventure. Let’s buy a castle with room for a dragon.”
“Thule, Pikeh. Remember, the goal is to end the game with the most money…”
“Cyril, if you’d just keep quiet maybe you’d have a shot at finishing above last place.”
“Ugh…”
“I-Ike! Don’t be mean to Cyril-sama!”
And so a chaotic entourage of house guests consisting of an ancient artifact, a white dragon, a greater ice spirit, a pie baker, a baby squirrel, and one blockhead played out their pseudo-lives in a chaotic game of luck. But in a house full of fun and friends, they’d forgotten to answer their initial question. Perhaps the answer, much like the man himself, was bound to be troublesome and more than they'd bargained for.