Chapter 105: Derek’s Help

Later, once school let out for the day, Mark and Derek sat together at the same table in the boys’ dormitory dayroom, working steadily through several pieces of homework and written assignments. The dayroom carried its usual, unusually quiet atmosphere for this time of the afternoon. Most students preferred retreating to their own rooms, heading to the recreational facilities, or finding somewhere else entirely to spend their free time, rather than gathering in a shared common space surrounded by books and unfinished schoolwork.

The room itself stretched out fairly spacious, several long tables arranged beneath overhead lighting, comfortable chairs set around each one. A handful of couches lined the walls, while broad windows let the fading afternoon light spill gently across the tiled floor. The atmosphere felt peaceful enough for serious studying, though the growing piles of assignments scattered across their table made it genuinely difficult to appreciate much of that comfort right now.

Derek sat across from Mark, wearing a bored, almost forced expression as he helped work through the assignments. None of the papers belonged to him personally. Every single one was Mark’s, and he’d agreed to lend a hand after being approached as the upperclassman roommate who’d already lived through most of what the younger student currently faced.

This hadn’t exactly been Derek’s idea of a fun afternoon.

He’d originally planned on relaxing after the day’s activities wrapped up, maybe enjoying some quiet downtime without having to think about schoolwork at all. Instead, he’d found himself sitting at a table buried under a collection of assignments seemingly determined to swallow up every spare minute he had.

The real problem wasn’t that Mark only had a few simple questions to tackle. Several assignments spanned different subjects entirely, each demanding its own dedicated share of focus. Some called for written explanations, others required actual research, and a handful dove into historical material Derek himself had never particularly enjoyed studying, even back in his own time.

Mark, meanwhile, pushed forward steadily, doing his best to keep pace with the workload. His notebook lay open in front of him, several completed sections already filled with neat, careful handwriting. A textbook rested beside it, pages marked in a few places where he’d already found information relevant to specific questions. Another stack of papers waited near his elbow, a quiet reminder that even finishing the current batch wouldn’t mean he was actually done.

There was simply too much homework for students to realistically manage comfortably, especially layered on top of every other school activity already demanding their time. Teachers didn’t seem particularly concerned with acknowledging that reality either. Each instructor assigned work based purely on their own subject’s requirements, rarely accounting for how much other work students were already juggling at the exact same time.

One teacher alone might assign five separate pieces of homework without giving a second thought to whatever workload the other teachers had already piled on. By the time students gathered everything together, what initially looked manageable often transformed into something genuinely exhausting.

The situation felt especially frustrating during this particular stretch of the academic calendar. Projects, homework, revision material, and class tests all seemed to stack up one after another, leaving students barely any real breathing room between responsibilities. Rather than feeling like a meaningful part of actual learning, the sheer workload sometimes felt closer to outright punishment for simply attending school.

Assignments hit freshmen and sophomores especially hard, students still actively building their academic foundations and adjusting to the institution’s overall expectations. Juniors and seniors dealt with a somewhat different rhythm, their schedules and responsibilities shaped more directly by proximity to graduation and the school’s expectations for its most advanced students.

For Mark, though, none of those distinctions really mattered much. He still had to finish everything assigned to him, regardless of year level or whatever intentions the teachers originally had in mind.

Derek sighed, inspecting one of the papers in front of him.

"Assignments and homework ranked among my absolute worst experiences back in the day. Genuinely never wanted to deal with this stuff again, and yet somehow here I am, helping someone else through it."

He leaned back slightly, rubbing at his forehead before refocusing on the page.

"Ancient Tales of Summoners is easily the worst of the bunch too. Honestly don’t even get why we’re stuck learning about dusty historical stuff involving people labeled heroes, villains, whatever else. It’s so dry I usually knock out within ten minutes of starting to read it. Honestly surprised I haven’t passed out already, sitting here."

His tone carried the particular exhaustion of someone who’d spent far too long studying subjects he genuinely couldn’t care less about. He stared down at the textbook as though the historical figures printed across its pages had personally wronged him somehow.

Mark glanced over at him, offering a small shrug.

"Well, it’s only been about five minutes so far."

He kept writing, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

"We could always swap assignments if it’s really bothering you that much. Trust me, I hate this just as much as you do, but you’ve already covered these topics before, so some of it should still ring a bell. Honestly, I just want to knock this all out for once and get the stress off my back entirely."

Derek studied him for a moment before letting out a chuckle.

"Mmhmm, sure, and I’m apparently the big guy providing charity services tonight."

He shook his head with exaggerated resignation, gathering up the papers in front of him and swapping them over with Mark’s. The motion came with the soft rustle of shifting pages as the two rearranged their materials, preparing to tackle the next round of subjects.

Derek glanced over the freshly swapped assignment before lifting his eyes back toward Mark.

"What about your girlfriend, though? She’s genuinely great at this kind of thing. Why aren’t you two just working on this stuff together?"

A sudden wave of warmth rushed across Mark’s face.

He let out a short, nervous chuckle, waving one hand dismissively, hoping to make the question seem less significant than it clearly felt.

"Girlfriend? Nah, man, it’s kind of a weird, long story honestly. She’s great, though. Just prefers handling tests and homework entirely on her own. But hey, two can play that particular game."

A crooked smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.

He tried to sound casual about it, though even he could tell his response hadn’t landed quite as convincingly as he’d hoped. Hermione’s name had a way of making him suddenly aware of his own reactions, especially whenever someone else brought her up out of nowhere.

Derek caught the shift in his expression immediately.

He leaned back in his chair, clearly amused.

"Huh, so she’s playing the whole Miss Perfect card, following every single school rule to the letter. Yeah, reminds me exactly of the girls back in elementary school, especially the class representatives. They act like total model students in front of everyone, then turn around and snitch on their classmates the second they get the chance."

He spoke with the easy confidence of someone fully convinced he’d already figured Hermione out completely, despite barely knowing a thing about her.

Mark’s smile faded slightly.

"Maybe, but no, honestly. Don’t go painting her like that. She’s just a little paranoid about her grades and self worth when it comes to schoolwork, that’s all."

He found himself defending Hermione’s character almost on pure instinct. Sure, he could admit she was competitive, maybe a little overly serious about academics sometimes, but he didn’t genuinely believe that made her anything close to what Derek was describing.

Hermione carried her own reasons for approaching schoolwork the way she did. Mark understood that much clearly enough, even when her sheer determination occasionally frustrated him personally.

Derek raised an eyebrow at the response.

"Fair enough, I guess. Still, you could at least keep asking her for help, even if you’re not working directly alongside her on everything. No real reason to make this all harder on yourself than it needs to be."

He turned his attention back to the papers, tone staying relaxed as he started working through the fresh batch of questions in front of him.

To Derek, helping Mark out amounted to one more burden stacked on top of his own existing responsibilities. Still, he’d made the call to put in the effort regardless. Their relationship as roommates hadn’t always been particularly close, and he understood that offering a little genuine help now could count as a real step toward becoming a better roommate than he’d managed to be before.

Mark nodded vaguely, already refocused on his own assignment, eyes narrowing as he tried working through the wording of one particular question.

He read it once.

Then again.

Finally, he glanced up toward Derek.

"Weird question here. Where did the Dark Summoner first gather his followers, and what method did he actually use to recruit them?"

Derek paused mid write.

The name caught his attention, though not because he found the subject particularly fascinating. The Dark Summoner stood as one of those historical figures whose reputation had endured across generations of textbooks, lectures, and cautionary tales. His name carried lasting associations with forbidden summoning practices, the corruption of loyal followers, and the devastating conflicts that had eventually followed his rise to power.

Derek tilted his head slightly, trying to recall what he actually remembered.

"The Dark Summoner, huh? Honestly didn’t catch every detail myself back then, but I remember hearing he started gathering followers sometime during his own high school years. Apparently some close friend of his, a student with genuine prophetic abilities, revealed something to him that ended up fueling his whole gruesome, tyrannical plan."

He paused, thinking it over further.

"As for the actual recruitment method, might have involved some kind of possession, given that one of his summon’s core abilities was tied directly to that. Not totally sure on the details, though, so double check the textbook before you write that down as a solid, confirmed answer."

Mark glanced back down at the page, weighing Derek’s explanation carefully.

He genuinely appreciated the help, though the answer also reminded him just how difficult it could be separating actual historical fact from whatever surviving version of events had managed to stick around through the generations.

Stories surrounding powerful summoners tended to get repeated so often they eventually hardened into unquestioned truth. Details could easily get dropped, exaggerated, or quietly reshaped along the way, making a particular figure look considerably more heroic, or more villainous, than they’d probably actually been in reality.

Mark leaned back slightly, letting out a light scoff.

"Who really knows what actually happened back then? People just love twisting things into whatever story suits them best."

He tapped his pen absently against the edge of his notebook.

"Honestly makes me wonder how the world would even handle it, if that whole myth turned out true and the Dark Summoner actually came back somehow."

Derek glanced over at him.

For a moment, his bored expression shifted into something more genuinely thoughtful. The idea unsettled him slightly, even with the odds of something like that actually happening feeling remote at best. The Dark Summoner belonged to an era most people only knew through old records, inherited legend, and whatever accounts scholars had bothered preserving over time. His actual return would mean the world had badly misunderstood something fundamental about its own history.

Still, Derek had zero interest in spending the entire evening worrying over some ancient tyrant who’d probably never actually resurface anyway.

He pointed toward Mark’s still unfinished work instead.

"Let’s just finish these assignments first, before you start dragging ancient monsters back into the modern world on us."

Mark laughed softly.

"Fair enough."

Both of them settled back into their papers, conversation fading into the quiet rustle of turning pages and the steady scratch of pens working across notebooks. Outside the windows, daylight gradually weakened, bathing the dayroom in a softer, dimmer glow.

For now, at least, the Dark Summoner remained nothing more than a historical figure discussed somewhere inside a textbook.

Mark had other, far more immediate matters to deal with, and actually finishing his assignments ranked highest among them tonight.