The Last Magic Chapter 7

07 Rin

In first and second year, Sakurako and I were in different classes, but in third year, we finally ended up in the same one.

Sakurako had gained the ability to use magic back in first year, but she rarely showed it off in front of anyone except me. That made it feel special—something I could quietly brag about—but it was also something her grandmother had taught her. Apparently, using magic too often in front of people wasn’t a good idea.

If she wanted to make magic her profession, she couldn’t just perform it casually. She had to add value to it—basically, make it seem rare and precious.

So, Sakurako only used magic in public during special circumstances, like when her magic book was stolen. Any other time, no matter how much people begged, 

"No."

she’d flat-out refuse.

I wished she’d phrase it a little nicer, but that was just Sakurako being Sakurako.

As for me, I was doing decently well in basketball club. By third year, I’d even been made captain, so I was having fun.

My dad had been helping me with my studies all along, so I usually scored around 90 points in all five major subjects. That meant I had a good shot at getting into a decent high school.

My classmates would ask,

"How are you scoring so high without even going to cram school?"

But it made sense—unlike the kids who were studying at cram schools, I’d only ever focused on schoolwork. I’d start preparing for midterms and finals three weeks in advance. On the other hand, I’d never done any entrance exam prep, so I was worried whether I’d actually be able to get into high school like this.

"Are you sure I don’t need to study for the entrance exams?"

When I asked my dad that, he confidently replied,

"The key is using your school time efficiently. Just focus on your regular studies, and during summer or winter break, solve past exam papers from the high school you want to get into—over and over. That’s the fastest way to clear it. Listen, you have to cut out all waste. School grades directly impact your recommendation scores, and they’re the best way to solidify the basics. If you neglect the basics and jump straight to applied learning, it won’t work. And cram schools? The only ones who really improve there are the kids who were already smart to begin with. Cram schools focus on them because they’re good advertising. Most people just end up feeling like they’ve studied without actually getting better. Not everyone gets into their dream school, so studying on your own is way more effective. If you don’t understand something, ask me or your teachers—that’s literally their job. Or ask a smart classmate. Asking costs nothing. Just use every resource around you to the fullest. Don’t be embarrassed—there’s a saying: 'Asking is a temporary shame, not asking is a lifelong shame.'"

Honestly, I felt like his perspective was a bit skewed, and it made me a little uneasy. But at this point, I had no choice but to trust him.

Well, not just him—more like the gamer part of him, the one who prioritized efficiency so much that he’d even earn scorn from other online players.

By the way, Sakurako didn’t go to cram school either. But her grades were even better than mine, averaging around 95. She said schoolwork was easy compared to magic studies—just paying attention in class was enough. So once we were in the same class, I took full advantage and asked her about everything. Her explanations were clear, even easier to follow than my slightly eccentric dad’s. But I felt a little guilty, so I confessed what my dad had told me.

Sakurako just smiled and said,

"Answering questions helps me learn too."

She might actually be a goddess.

"Really? Doesn’t 'asking is free' sound kinda cheap? I mean, he did say I could go to cram school if I wanted, but… I feel like if I did, I’d just end up thinking I’d 'studied enough' and get complacent, like he said. So, I’m fine staying like this."

"Rin’s dad has always been a little eccentric, but in a fun way. I think it’s amazing how he doesn’t just follow what everyone else does."

"Too eccentric, if you ask me. He treats my high school entrance exams like a game. Some kind of raising sim? Like, 'Make sure you get into a good high school!'—but not in a pushy way, which I appreciate, I guess."

My dad would teach me, but he never forced me to study. He never even told me to "do my best." If I said tomorrow, "I’m quitting studying," he probably wouldn’t stop me—he’d just happily spend more time gaming instead. At his core, he was self-centered.

"I’m jealous. My parents are just… normal."

Sakurako lowered her eyes slightly as she said that. Her parents didn’t approve of her becoming a sorcerer—they wanted her to live an ordinary life. They weren’t bad people, but because they were decent, they didn’t want their daughter involved in magic.

Truthfully, magic didn’t seem like something you could make a public career out of. Sakurako’s grandmother mostly did fortune-telling and spiritual stuff.

Personally, I wished Sakurako could find some amazing profession that would spread magic to the world, but no such thing existed.

That kind of reality became clearer in middle school, and I couldn’t irresponsibly say "You should become a sorcerer!" anymore.

Even Sakurako, who had stubbornly kept up her magic studies during breaks since elementary school, started holding back once she could actually use magic. Now, she just spent time talking with me.

"Sometimes I wonder… is it really okay to keep doing magic?"

She had confided her doubts like that once. Maybe, now that she’d achieved her goal of being able to use magic, she was satisfied. But I couldn’t say anything—I didn’t even know what I wanted to do in the future. I had no right to tell her "This is definitely the right path."

----

And just like that, the study-heavy days of third year flew by, and before I knew it, high school entrance exams had arrived. Sakurako and I had agreed to apply to the same school as our first choice—a bit of a challenge for me, but comfortably within her reach.

At first, I was just happy we might end up at the same school. But gradually, I started worrying—"Is this really the right choice?"

It was January, still early enough to submit applications. Walking home along the wide road lined with palm trees (odd for a place that wasn’t even tropical), I asked Sakurako:

"Are you really okay with the same high school?"

Her expression was unreadably complicated.

"Actually… I’m a little unsure too. I think I’ve managed this long because you were with me in elementary and middle school. In elementary, you protected me when I was stubborn and closed off. And in first year, even that nice girl Kobayashi who was kind to me—wasn’t she originally your friend? I was amazed you both kept friendships since kindergarten."

Since I’d moved to our current apartment from the area where our middle school was, I already knew some kids outside our elementary school. Haru, for example—our mothers were close because we lived nearby, so we’d still met up occasionally even after starting elementary.

So when I found out Sakurako and Haru were in the same class, I’d asked Haru, "Take care of Sakurako, okay? She might seem a little out of place."

"I think Sakurako gets along with anyone now," I mused.

But then I realized—"I wish I could always be Sakurako’s number one." The possessiveness of that thought made me feel a little gross.

"I wonder… I know I’ll have to stand on my own someday, but right now, I want to stay with you a little longer. So, it’s fine."

Her black hair fluttered in the strong winter wind as she smiled.

We both got into the high school.

----

It was a private co-ed school in Shibuya, Tokyo. Technically, it was an affiliated school, but it also had a hybrid structure that allowed students to aim for better universities. That sounded nice in theory, but in practice, it felt a little half-hearted. Still, for us—still unsure about our futures—it was just right.

Commuting by train was a first for both of us, so at first, we went to school together. Once, she even grabbed my hand and pulled me back when I almost got hit by a car at the crosswalk right in front of the school. But we were in different classes. I joined the basketball club again, while Sakurako chose the literature club. Naturally, our daily routines started to drift apart, and eventually, we mostly commuted alone.

We still texted, so we never grew distant, but it wasn’t the same closeness we’d had in elementary and middle school.

And then, not long after starting high school, Sakurako dove back into magic.

She’d decided she was going to become a full-fledged sorcerer. Maybe it was the influence of an upperclassman in the literature club who was also a sorcerer—or maybe she still admired her grandmother’s way of life.

I supported her decision, but I could already see myself going down the ordinary path to university. The thought of us heading in different directions made me a little lonely.