Essays!
A word that every college entrance examinee, including me, has pondered at least once.
You might wonder why I suddenly bring up such an odd essay talk…
Well, if you don’t mind, hear me out.
It does relate quite significantly to my time with Artemis.
Strangely enough, my last love counseling had a rather close connection with essays.
It all started with, and ended with, one teacher’s strong belief regarding college entrance essays in the modern Earth I resided in before my transfer to this world.
Back then, universities didn’t rely solely on academic grades and standardized tests to select their students.
In order to have better discernment, they also conducted interviews and essay assessments,
and I too was preparing for these essays tailored to the admissions process.
One day, during a one-on-one interview coaching session with my essay tutor,
their unexpected remarks about love during a break still linger in my mind…
“What do you think love is?”
“L-love? Out of the blue?”
“Love usually comes unexpectedly, after all. It serves no use to say ‘I’m not ready yet!’ when it arrives~?”
The teacher exaggeratedly mimicked some awkward fellow in love at the front of the classroom,
and though their antics were over the top, I found them amusing enough to unconsciously get drawn into the conversation.
“I don’t know. Still, as you say… didn’t all our school teachers tell us to wait until we get to college? So, I doubt I could understand love now.”
“Hahaha! Hey, you actually believe that? Usually, a year into college, and most end up in the army anyway?”
I hadn’t known back then…
that it wouldn’t be the army, but rather this world I’d end up in.
No, surely, there was no way anyone could predict something like that.
“Then are they lying to us?”
“Hmm… not necessarily a lie? The symbol of college is freedom.”
“But why tell us such things?”
“You know, teachers are in a position to take responsibility for their students? If a student were to get into some trouble through love, it’d cause a headache, so they’re told to wait till college, right? At that point, the students are out of their hands.”
“Teacher, isn’t that like, um, pretty much self-sabotage?”
“Hey, so what? You’re graduating soon anyway~”
The teacher, having secured their own advantages, confessed with cheeky candor, almost like a playground bully.
But this essay teacher, being lively and cheerful as usual,
even when acting cheeky, didn’t seem particularly hateful.
“Ugh… If I’d known this earlier… I should’ve dated someone in high school.”
“…”
“Why the silence all of a sudden?”
“Isn’t essay practice difficult? Though it’s not a perfect analogy… let me explain the relationship between essays and love as I understand it.”
“Wh-what?!”
To the force of my reaction, the teacher grabbed their stomach laughing but offered a light apology.
Not quite knowing how to accept this half-hearted apology, I only responded by leaning my chin on my hand and giving an indifferent stare.
The teacher turned around with a smirk, then began writing several things on the blackboard before explaining.
“Essays come in various types — humanities, social sciences, English, mathematics, etc. But love is nothing but…!”
Emphasizing the last line, the teacher erased all the earlier written terms with the eraser, leaving only one word behind.
Inferential essay.
Clang! Clang!
To emphasize the point further, the teacher slapped the board hard with their hand, causing chalk dust to rain down.
“Love is an inferential essay. Master this, and you won’t have to worry about ever getting rejected.”
“Inferential essay, huh?”
An essay type that prominent universities have long favored.
The universities I’m aiming for also prefer to employ inferential essays in their selection processes.
Difficult in theory, but once simplified, it’s actually quite straightforward,
involving the estimation of new situations based on given conditions and then articulating your views.
“Inferential essay? Isn’t that what you just did?”
The teacher gently tapped on the sheet of paper lying beside the desk, which contained an inferential essay question:
Continuing global warming and declining population.
The task involved predicting the issues 20 years into the future based on these facts and proposing suitable solutions. I had just finished this essay.
So how exactly does this relate to love?
“You must have observed many couples — their affectionate behaviors and their disputes.”
“Of course.”
I had once hurried past their affectionate moments, but often found myself lingering to watch their arguments.
From an onlooker’s perspective, couple disputes could sometimes seem quite entertaining.
“People don’t suddenly express affection or burst into anger. Feelings, like bricks stacked one by one, accumulate gradually — positives and negatives — until they burst.”
“So, are you saying we should view the acts themselves not as processes but as conclusions?”
“Ooh, sharp observation! Exactly. If we treat your recent inferential essay as an example, it’s like seeing the problem of 20 years ahead already solved. The remaining task is to identify the earlier given conditions A, B, C.”
“But aren’t the conditions already given? Global warming, and population decrease.”
“Haha! But A and B are just the beginning. You don’t yet know what C is.”
With this mention of an unwritten “C,” my interest in this explanation cooled significantly.
Finding something unindicated falls within the realm of emotion.
Rationally solving problems based on existing facts, that’s the domain of reason.
What need of emotion does an inferential essay have?
“If it was omitted, might it not simply not have been important in the first place? There’s no need to unnecessarily generate possible misinterpretations.”
“Hmm… but my perspective’s a little different. Love is such an emotional entity that even when the direct causes seem clear, a hidden, minuscule feeling can still make calm waters churn into whirlpools.”
“…”
Too accurate an insight, as if piercing through my own adolescent naïveté.
Back in elementary school, I had agreed to meet a friend over the weekend for lunch.
We quarreled for over 20 minutes about whether we should go to a Chinese noodle shop or a snack store.
In the end, we just went our separate ways.
Though I never told my friend, the truth is, to me, whether it was Chinese noodles or rice cakes, it didn’t make a big difference.
The problem lay in the incessant sense of obligation he showed in treating me.
“Thank you” repeated ten times will eventually cause the original sentiment to fade.
Yes.
That must be what you refer to as condition C.
Once I applied my past self to this concept, the understanding became startlingly clear.
“Hahaha… judging from your expression, it seems like you’re getting it!”
“Yes, it brought back memories of some black history moments thanks to you.”
As I glared accusingly at the teacher for dredging up such a memory,
the teacher scratched their cheek sheepishly, saying they’d been through the same.
“Hey, hey. Where do you think my love theory came from? From my failed first love, from which I formed my firm stance.”
“Ah… Did you break up?”
“We dated for a while… Love isn’t easy.”
“… Do you miss her?”
“Miss her? Oh come on… I see her every morning when I open my eyes.”
“…What?”
The mood in the classroom, which had been tinged with nostalgia, was suddenly shattered as if splashed with cold water.
The first love didn’t end in failure?
“The whole inferential essay concept aside, the right person can still beg and cling… Okay! Enough chit-chat, let’s get back to it!”
“Hmm…”
“Oh, and by the way… C doesn’t need to be newly created. In my experience, it’s highly likely that it was carelessly left behind on a road you’ve already passed.”
…
…
.
“Alright already?! What on earth…?”
Leaping up with a cry verging on exasperation,
I clutch the quilt corner slipping down and scan my surroundings.
A dilapidated, falling-apart inn.
Scattered office supplies and pieces of parchment.
Unquestionably, this is my room.
“Ah… was it all a dream? Too tired, I guess, to conjure up such absurd dreams… Need to take some vitamin C…”
Scratching my head, I pull the window curtain aside.
The sun is already high in the sky, its rays penetrating deep into my quarters.
A foreboding sensation prompts me to turn my stiff neck, resembling an oiled-up cog, towards the clock’s hands nearby.
“F*! I’m late!!”
Ever since becoming a priest, late mornings had been rare.
This kind of mistake shouldn’t have happened.
If Artemis, known for her temper, starts to rage, the reprimands won’t end.
“Self-blame later!”
Kicking off the blanket again, I quickly finish washing up and change clothing.
Slinging on a backpack roughly,
as I step towards the exit,
a basket of fruit and a sticky note beside the shoe rack catches my eye.
—”Ark, you were sleeping soundly, so I didn’t wake you. I’ve told Lady Goddess you’re on a business trip, so relax today. From Secretary Maia.”
“Uhhaha~ Phew. I’m saved.”
Relief washes over me, and I slump down at the entrance.
Breathing deeply towards the ceiling, I realize I’ve evaded a major mishap thanks to Maia’s clever cover.
I nodded several times in approval, mentally thanking myself for recruiting her as my secretary.
“Phew… Now what?”
Suddenly left with a day of leisure, there was yet one problem.
Since Maia had claimed I was out on business,
I mustn’t be seen loitering around the temple grounds.
So it seems I’m stuck here until evening.
I ponder how to fill my time.
“There’s only one way, isn’t there?”
I look towards Artemis outside the temple fence, who is sprawled lazily on her sunset bed.
So, Artemis,
Is this your way of making things harder as the truth comes closer?
What’s this business about not regaining our current relationship forever?
The arrogance of her making hasty judgments about me based solely on her own conclusions.
If I don’t break her aloofness, my name as Ark might change forever.
“Alright. With this break thanks to Sister Maia, I can’t waste it.”
A rare break.
Today, I’ll dedicate this day to solving the puzzles she’s given me.
