Charlotte Eshrelt (4)
Inside the Tembris team clubroom.
Having tasted the novel agony of having his hair yanked out by the roots for the very first time in his life, Junon rubbed his thoroughly disheveled head while explaining everything that had transpired. Two facts were laid bare: the cowards who had foreseen their own defeat had tucked tail and run, and the prejudice that Charlotte was doomed to succumb to a mana rampage had been shattered to pieces.
"Then... did I really..."
"I told you. I handled things before you could lose control."
Nothing had happened while her eyes were closed. The reality greeting Charlotte, who had wanted nothing more than to hide in a dream, may not have been quite as sweet as a dream itself, yet neither did it taste bitter. Her voice naturally grew thick with emotion, but unfortunately, her constricted throat could produce no further sound.
No matter what anyone said, there was no denying that Junon was the one most responsible for changing the outcome. He was undeniably the one who had taken that arduous first step and stripped away a layer of her fear. Yet her voice failed her. She could not even voice words of gratitude.
Even so, the boy who was two years her senior merely looked down at her with solemn eyes, offering no rebuke.
"Really, really... hic..."
What more was there to say? He could not know what precise sentiments swirled inside the young girl struggling to part her lips. No one was fool enough to crack a careless joke when looking into eyes brimming with tears. However,
"...When you want to cry, you should cry. Holding it in only makes it harder."
He moved to stop her from bottling up the emotions threatening to burst forth. He meant to coax this tiny girl, still far too young to be an adult, into expelling all the sorrow and torment she had suffered until now. It might have seemed meddlesome, but it was earnest advice borne of having walked a similar path.
"You can let it all out now. It was hard on you, wasn't it?"
"Hic... sob...!"
Her first comfort.
It was the first comfort she had ever received in an isolated world where no one could understand or empathize with her. At last, sweeping forward like an irresistible tide, her pent-up grief surged from the deepest recesses of her heart. For reasons she could not comprehend, the girl's small frame gradually burrowed toward the only man who had ever offered her solace.
Wails of sorrow rippled through the clubroom. A tiny hand curled into a fist, clutching his lapels as though crying out to the heavens, while a rough, calloused hand came to rest upon her back with unprecedented gentleness. There was no monster in this room—only a wounded child, and an upperclassman who understood her pain.
By the time Charlotte had poured out every drop of her long-buried feelings onto Junon, leaving her eyes swollen and red, the other members were still waiting outside just as Junon had requested.
"Hey, guys!"
Goden, having received word late, came rushing over, bringing the entire team together outside the Tembris clubroom. As his booming voice resonated to match his towering frame, Senia brought an index finger to her lips.
"Shh. Keep your voice down, Goden."
"Uh... r-right."
"We're trying to catch even a little of what they're saying... so bear with us, even if you're confused."
Once Michel chimed in with her explanation, Goden nodded with an enlightened expression. Junon surely had his reasons for asking them to wait outside, but waiting naturally wore on one's patience. How on earth had he broken through that unyielding wall and carried Charlotte back on his shoulders? Seeing Charlotte, who had always kept everyone at arm's length, being carried in like that was bound to make anyone curious.
"..."
"How is it, Senia? Can you hear anything?"
"Whoever built our clubroom certainly did an exceptional job soundproofing it."
In other words, no matter how hard she pressed her ear to the wood, she could hear nothing at all.
"Well, at least we'll never have to worry about anyone eavesdropping on us. That's a good thing, isn't it?"
"What's so good about it, Michel?! I'm dying of curiosity here!"
"Eavesdropping is still bad manners, Aris."
Michel pointed out the obvious, but human curiosity was not so easily quelled—least of all for Aris, who had been the most thrilled of all at the prospect of an adorable junior joining their ranks. Pacing back and forth in rapid, anxious strides while groaning under her breath, Aris finally lost the battle against her own impatient nature and bolted toward the door.
"I can't take it anymoreee!"
"H-huh? Wait, Aris—cough!"
"That idiot, seriously!"
Kicking up a smokescreen of illusion magic to obscure their vision, Aris reached the clubroom in an instant. Since Junon had only intended to talk, he had not bothered locking the door. When it swung wide, the scene awaiting her was ripe for misunderstanding.
"Aris? Haa... I told you not to come in until I came out."
"Ha..."
Far from listening to Junon, Aris let out an incredulous gasp. Charlotte's eyes were so red and swollen that they contrasted starkly with her blue irises; no matter how one looked at it, Junon appeared to have bullied her to tears. And moments later...
"You absolute scoundrel!"
"Wh-what is this all of a sudden?! Gaaah! Hey! Use your words instead of your fists, dammit!"
"Making a girl cry?! And such a tiny, precious child at that... You need a beating... A sound thrashing!"
"What the hell are you even talking about?! Gaaack!"
Aris relentlessly rained spicy smacks upon Junon until the other members rushed in to pull her off. What followed was predictable: Aris, having left several scarlet handprints across his back during her fierce rampage, approached Charlotte to soothe her and tell her everything was all right, while the girl who had so desperately wanted to seem mature hid behind the back of the boy who had comforted her, recoiling from Aris like a child wary of an unfamiliar adult.
That had been the inception of her dependence.
The distant memory shattered as the blazing twilight lost its embers, welcoming a sky scattered with seed-like stars to restore the present. Just like back then, the young woman's eyes were glistening with moisture. Right before the recollection broke, the voice echoing in her mind belonged to the very same person.
'Well... I put you to sleep with medicine to solve it this time, but even if you ever did go on a rampage, the guys in this team would be more than enough to stop you.'
For a long while after, she had followed in the footsteps of the one who had carried her. Why had she been so terribly terrified and wary of the comrades she now treated with such ease? Following that incident, she had thrown herself into agonizing training, vowing to prevent her mana from ever running wild again.
And she had grown dependent. She had clung to the conviction that even if she lost control one day, they would be there to hold her back. Looking at it now, it had been a foolish, complacent faith. That reliance had swelled to such proportions that she had never even considered finding a solution on her own, ultimately leaving her backed against a cliff—where, terrified that someone weaker than herself might be harmed, she had spat out those cruel, defensive words.
Why she had only realized this truth now was something she could not answer, yet she refused to turn away from the fact that it had still been her own doing. The tears spilling down her cheeks were born not of fear, but of crushing guilt.
Footsteps drew near once more. There was no intent to conceal their approach. Steady and rhythmic, the strides closed the distance until they came to a halt before the girl who stood with lowered head, dabbing at her eyes.
"Crying here again, Charlotte?"
"...Senior?"
Her blue eyes trembled in utter bewilderment. How did Senior get here? No. Now isn't the time to think about that. Charlotte hastily rubbed her eyes, wiping away the tears she had been shedding alone. At that, Junon spoke, echoing the words he had left unsaid earlier when she had defensively brushed him off.
"I told you before: when it's time to cry, you should let yourself cry."
He sighed softly. "You remember everything, yet you haven't changed a bit. Really, now..."
Remember. He had undeniably said 'remember.' And he had said, 'You remember everything, yet...' Which meant...
"Don't tell me... you know..."
"Yeah. I came because I know everything. Why else would I have sought out this place?"
"How could..."
Ironically enough, the secluded spot where Charlotte had come to weep was a simple walking path on the Academy grounds. It was an ordinary promenade, no different from dozens of others scattered across the campus. Yet for the two of them, the path held an entirely different meaning.
It was the place where his pre-regression self and her remembered self had first sparred, taking their initial steps toward change. A place of crossroads—cherished as a precious memory by one, yet buried as a memory that ought to be forgotten by the other. To anyone else, it was a nondescript trail that held no special significance without the context of that day, but between the two of them, it remained indelibly etched in their hearts.
With that realization, Charlotte's eyes brimmed once more as a surging wave rose from within, releasing an uncontrollable flood of tears.
"Senior... I, I..."
"Enough of that for now. Just cry. Cry your heart out like you did back then, and we can talk through it slowly later. All right?"
Why had nothing changed from that day? Though there was so much she wanted to say with an honest heart, it felt as though her throat were choked by the rising tide. Knowing what she had said back then—spewing venomous words to push others away out of her own cowardly terror—she simply wanted to offer a single, heartfelt apology. Yet again.
This time as well.
Tears took precedence over gratitude.
"Senior... Seniorrr...!"
He could mock her for crying so slovenly when she was practically grown. He could berate her, asking what right she had after speaking to him the way she had. He could even condemn her, saying she was bound to repeat the exact same sins in this life. None of that mattered. Right now, she simply wanted to lean into that dependable, warm embrace. She wanted that rough hand to pat her back. She wanted to feel that her weeping face was hidden, shielded from the world.
And this time...
"I'm not going anywhere. Not until you're completely done crying. So take your time and let it all out."
Without regret.
She did not want to live with regret ever again.
Charlotte wept endlessly. It was fortunate that this promenade was rarely frequented by other students; otherwise, anyone passing by would have assumed I had reduced her to tears.
Has she finally calmed down a bit?
Much like before the regression, her eyelids were raw and swollen. Though the soft sniffling continued, it seemed she had finally emptied the worst of it. The snuffling paused for a moment, followed by a quiet sniffle as she cleared her thoroughly ruined voice. Soon after, she parted her lips.
"I'm sorry, Senior. I'm so, so sorry."
Those were the first words Charlotte uttered after her tears subsided.