The Academy's Terminally Ill Side Character

Lena's POV

"My older sister said she's coming to visit me soon…"

His sister...?

Ah. So that's what's been weighing on him.

The way his tone shifted—just a little tighter, a little less sure—made it obvious this wasn't something he brought up lightly. I hadn't expected it. I thought maybe he'd ask about combat techniques or how to navigate team dynamics. Not family.

Still, I'm glad he felt comfortable enough to mention her.

But… I'd be lying if I said her name didn't make me pause, just for a moment. It wasn't jealousy. Not exactly. More like… caution.

Family complicates things.

And Rin's already dealing with more than most cadets his age. The dungeon incident. The villain encounter. The way he holds himself like someone who's always watching, always measuring risk.

He doesn't act like a high schooler. Not really.

Sometimes I wonder if anyone's actually looking after him.

That's why I wanted to talk today—to make sure he had someone to lean on, even just a little. As a professor, it's my responsibility. But if I'm honest, it's more than that now.

Rin reminds me of someone I used to know. Someone who kept pushing forward without ever asking for help. And I watched that person burn out, piece by piece, until there was nothing left of them but duty.

I won't let that happen again.

So if his sister is worried, maybe it's a good thing. Maybe it'll help him open up more, or let himself rest without feeling like he's slipping behind.

Still… there's a small, quiet part of me that wonders.

What kind of sister is she?

Does she understand how much pressure he's under? Does she know how easily someone like Rin gets overlooked—not because he lacks skill, but because he's too good at pretending he's fine?

I kept my smile steady as I answered.

"I see. I was actually hoping to have a meeting with your family, so if your sister comes, I hope she comes to see me as well."

And I meant it.

If she's a source of strength for him, I want to support that. But if she's part of the weight he's carrying, then I need to know that too.

Because Rin… he won't say it out loud. Not unless someone listens carefully.

And if there's one thing I can be for him, it's someone who pays attention—even to the things left unsaid.

Rin paused a little at my words and blinked his eyes, like he was surprised at what he was hearing it.

But why is that? Did I say something wrong? I don't think so.

He tried to play it off with a faint smile, his words coming out carefully measured.

"That… sounds good. She's… really looking forward to meeting people from the academy."

Ah.

There it was again.

That pause. That slight delay before he chose the word "really."

He was lying—not maliciously, not even defensively. It was just something he'd trained himself to do: smoothing over the rough edges of the truth so no one would look too closely.

I tilted my head just slightly and smiled.

"Oh?" I said lightly, as if I hadn't noticed. "I'm sure we'll get along very well."

But inside, my thoughts were shifting.

I knew.

I've seen it too many times—students who come from families that don't understand them, or worse, try to mold them into something they're not.

The ones who flinch at praise, who stiffen at warmth.

Rin always responded like that.

Grateful… but guarded.

Accepting, but never reaching back too far.

The kind of child who learned a long time ago that asking for comfort meant risking disappointment.

And now his sister was coming.

I wondered what kind of person she was—the one who helped raise him, or perhaps the one who expected him to raise himself.

He hadn't said much, but sometimes, silence is more revealing than a full confession.

He never talked about his home. Never mentioned his parents. Only this sister, in this offhand, distant way. No fond memories. No stories. Just this single visit, spoken like a chore he was preparing himself to endure.

And the fact that it was her he chose to bring up—now, during a moment where he clearly needed guidance—said a lot.

"She said she's worried about me."

Those words had lingered in the air just a little too long.

They weren't for me. I think he was saying them for himself, trying to believe them.

Maybe even trying to test if I would believe them too.

I didn't press. I didn't call him out.

Not yet.

Instead, I gently pulled my hand back from his, not in coldness but to give him space—to let the tension ease without making it feel like I noticed it was there in the first place.

"Whenever she visits, let me know," I said, picking up my tea. "We'll find a time to talk."

He nodded, a bit too quickly.

"Yeah. I'll do that."

I could see the conflict in his eyes. Relief, maybe, that I hadn't questioned him. And guilt too—for lying, even just a little. For keeping things back.

But it wasn't my job to pry.

It was my job to be patient.

So I offered him a softer smile, this one quieter, without the light tease or knowing edge.

"Rin," I said gently, "you don't have to handle everything on your own."

He looked at me—just looked—for a few seconds.

Then he nodded again.

"…Thanks, Professor Lena."

And maybe that was all he could give me for now.

But I'd take it.

Because sometimes, it's not the words that matter—but the moment someone starts letting themselves be seen.

And Rin, whether he realized it or not… had just taken that first step.

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Thank you for reading the chapter. I hope you continue to do read more in future.

It's my first novel so if there's any kind of mistakes you find in the novel related to grammar please tell me and I'll edit it as soon as possible.