The Academy's Terminally Ill Side Character

"You…" Ban said, cucumber still held firm, "recently wasted a bell pepper. One that could've saved a soul."

Lena's mouth opened slightly. "What…? How do you know that?"

"I don't," Ban replied with a grin. "But I felt it in the earth. In the roots. They whispered to me."

He said that with the same tone someone else might use to recite poetry.

Like this was all completely normal.

Lena stared at him like he'd suddenly grown three heads.

Which, frankly, would've made more sense.

At the same time, Ban stepped forward with casual confidence, and Lena instinctively took a step back, her nose wrinkling in disgust.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath. "This is getting out of hand."

Just as I was about to intervene—because honestly, we were seconds away from a full-blown food-based catastrophe—two figures moved faster than me.

Leona and Ryen appeared beside Lena like synchronized lightning.

Both of them drew their swords in a fluid motion, steel catching the light. Leona's eyes never left Ban as she addressed the professor.

"Are you alright, Professor Lena?"

Lena, still processing the fact that she had just been blocked by a cucumber, narrowed her eyes.

"How the hell did he even get inside the Academy?"

Ban blinked at the sudden backup, then grinned with genuine delight—like a farmer welcoming customers to his market stall.

"Ah, good! You two!" he said cheerfully. "I can tell. You're not picky eaters like the rest of them. Strong bones, clear skin—yes, yes. Balanced diets. I'm truly happy."

Leona just stared at him like he was a walking violation of common sense. Her disgust was almost palpable.

Ryen, on the other hand, didn't let his guard down for a second. He was careful—smart. Probably already calculating how to counter someone whose weapon of choice was a cucumber and whose powers made no logical sense whatsoever.

And me?

…I just watched from a distance.

Should I step in?

Probably.

Was I going to?

…I wasn't sure.

Because let's be honest—this wasn't something you saw every day.

A rogue vegetable warrior declaring moral superiority over dietary habits?

Part of me wanted to see where this would go.

Besides, if this was a fight, I was about to witness a cucumber clash with two blades.

And you don't just walk away from that.

Not without popcorn.

---

Ban Frok was genuinely happy—for the first time in a long while.

Standing before him were two cadets and a female professor who, by his standards, all had remarkably healthy diets. Their auras were clean. Their bones, strong. Their skin practically glowed with nutritional balance.

But they weren't perfect.

Ban's eyes shifted toward Ryen, and he tilted his head thoughtfully.

"That boy over there," he said, pointing with the cucumber still in his hand, "seems to have an aversion to okra."

Ryen blinked. "Huh? Yeah, I'm not a fan."

Ban nodded solemnly, as if Ryen had just confessed to a serious crime.

"I see. It's understandable. The texture can be… divisive. Some say it's too slimy. But sliminess is not a sin. It's just misunderstood."

Leona shot Ryen a look, half amused, half baffled.

Ryen scratched the back of his neck. "I mean, I guess I could give it another try?"

Ban's face lit up like a proud farmer at harvest.

"Yes! That's the spirit. If you slice it thinly and grill it with a little garlic and olive oil, it's practically a gift from the gods."

He held his cucumber up like it was the sacred staff of a culinary cult.

Lena, arms crossed, sighed hard. "Are we seriously still talking about okra?"

Ban turned to her with absolute seriousness. "Professor, everything starts with the stomach. A healthy diet builds a healthy mind. A healthy mind prevents evil. Thus—nutrition is the first line of defense against corruption."

Ryen muttered under his breath, "...This guy's really running on vegetable logic, huh?"

Leona just gripped her sword a little tighter.

Ban, meanwhile, spread his arms wide. "Don't you see? You three could be truly magnificent. You just need to embrace the full bounty of nature. Even okra."

And I just kept watching this from a distance, questioning every life choice that led me to this moment.

Was I really letting a man armed with a cucumber monologue about okra in the middle of campus?

…Maybe I needed help too.

Finally, Leona snapped.

Not at Ban.

At Ryen.

"Ryen, you idiot! Stop talking to him!"

"Ah—right. My bad," Ryen muttered, taking a step back like he'd just realized he was feeding a fire with gasoline.

Ban's eyes, calm and almost annoyingly bright, slowly turned to Leona.

"That one…" he said, tilting his head, "girl? Or boy? Hmm… not sure. But you—you've got a healthy glow. I can hear the vegetables you've cooked singing from your bloodstream."

Leona's eye twitched.

"…What kind of lunatic—"

"But!" Ban raised a finger. "Why do you hate cherry tomatoes? Such lovely little things. So vibrant. So misunderstood. I'm glad I get the chance to show you their true beauty."

"Bullshit," she snapped.

There was no warning.

Leona drew.

The mana-infused slash that erupted from her scabbard wasn't a warning shot—it was a full-power, kill-zone kind of attack, the kind that declared loud and clear: I do not care what weird powers you have. I am putting you down.

Everyone could see it.

Even Ban.

But instead of dodging, blocking, or retreating—

He raised a tomato.

Just a tomato.

It shimmered in the light, plump and red.

And then—it hit.

The blade met the fruit.

The supersonic slash collided with the elastic skin and juicy flesh of the tomato—and bounced.

The strike deflected off the fruit like it had hit a rubber shield.

Juice splattered in the air, but Ban remained perfectly still, arm raised, expression serene.

"See?" he said softly. "Cherry tomatoes are strong. You just have to believe in them."

Leona stood frozen, sword in hand, staring at him like he'd personally offended the entire concept of physics.

"…What the hell are you?" she breathed.

Ban smiled.

"A farmer. And a protector of food justice."