The Scene from That Day
Recovering didn't take all that long.
Setting aside the three days I'd spent unconscious, I was able to leave the infirmary a mere four days later, as if the battle of that day had been nothing but a dream.
Part of me wanted to stay in bed a while longer and skip out on my classes, but there was still far too much I needed to find out before I could afford to laze around.
And honestly, it was boring as hell anyway.
And so the walk to school arrived again after so long. As I made my way along the familiar path through the conifer grove I traversed every morning, breathing in the crisp scent of grass, the same silver creature was inevitably bouncing up and down beside me.
"Are you really sure you're okay? The professor said you could take more time to rest, remember?"
Rone's endless attempts at persuasion—this had to be the dozenth time—were making my ears grow calluses. I was grateful that she worried, but she took things a little too far sometimes.
The doctor had already confirmed I was nearly fully recovered, and I, the patient in question, kept insisting I was fine. Why she objected to me going to school this hard, I had no idea.
Frankly, even my own mother wouldn't worry this much.
"I'm perfectly healthy. What's the point of lying around in a hospital bed? Besides, you're wearing yourself out over nothing too."
"I'm fine, though…."
Rone muttered quietly, avoiding my eyes, but I had no intention of changing my mind.
If I knew how much Rone had suffered during the full week I'd spent in that hospital room, the last thing I'd want would be to stay there a moment longer.
I didn't know the exact details of the three days I'd been unconscious, but according to Marie, Rone had kept watch at my side day and night without rest, so the toll on her—both mental and physical—must have been brutal.
On top of that, after catching a few hours of sleep the day I woke up, she'd stayed glued to my side the whole time except when she was actually sleeping.
If nothing else, I wanted to leave as soon as possible to avoid staging any more scenes like that, so it was a genuine blessing that my body cooperated for once.
Though Rone's devoted nursing had certainly played its part too.
"Anyway—thank you, Rone. Thanks to you, I was able to recover this quickly."
When I expressed my gratitude for all her efforts with complete sincerity, the gloomy expression on Rone's face quickly blossomed into a sheepish grin. Like watering a flower that had wilted.
"Heh, think nothing of it."
Watching Rone flash her trademark peace sign with a goofy smile somehow put my mind at ease.
Only last night I'd had this worry and that weighing on my chest, after all.
From there, we traded the usual meaningless small talk until we finally reached the back entrance of the main building. And it was there that we ran into a rather unexpected pair.
"Dinauer, it's been a while. I'm relieved to see you've made a full recovery."
"Fools always heal fast, Elisha."
Two girls whose very first words were so wildly opposite you'd never believe they were best friends—Elisha and Marie.
Come to think of it, they were both among those who'd visited me in the hospital.
Marie's sharp tongue was needling me so bluntly today that I wanted to stuff her mouth shut on the spot, but whatever her faults, she was a grateful one, so I decided to let it slide for a day and greet them normally.
"I am, thanks to you. I appreciate you coming to visit."
"When a friend gets hurt, that much is only natural. Oh, right—did you enjoy the fruit?"
Being filed under the category of "Elisha's friend" stirred an odd sense of pride in me, honestly.
Sure, it still felt like some distance remained between us, but I wasn't clueless enough to blurt back friend? at this point, so I simply replied in an even tone.
"Yeah, it was great. Rone peeled everything for me, so I ate it all."
And I did eat it all. That was precisely the problem.
In my memory, the fruit that came with a get-well visit came neatly arranged in a small basket—but of course, a duke's daughter apparently couldn't bear to be modest about anything. She'd gone completely overboard.
Worse, Rone insisted that eating plenty of everything was the fastest road to recovery and peeled the entire mountain of it, leaving me feeling like I'd eaten more fruit than actual meals.
Looking back now, it frankly astonishes me that I managed to finish all of it.
"Aren't you taking a bit too much advantage of your precious childhood friend?"
"Did I ask her to peel it? She did it because she wanted to."
Marie shot me a sidelong glare while twisting the tips of her pink hair around her finger, but I succeeded in batting it away without a care, same as always.
That said—why was Rone being so quiet?
"Rone. Rone."
"Huh? Wh-what?"
I tapped her arm and called her name repeatedly before she belatedly turned her head, eyes wide open—proof enough that she'd completely checked out.
It was rare to see this girl spacing out like that. Strange. Normally, even if she seemed a bit dim, she was good about paying attention when people spoke to her.
But just a moment ago, she'd worn the expression of someone looking straight at the two of them while leaving her consciousness somewhere far away.
Rone must have realized herself that zoning out with people right in front of her was rude, because she offered a belated apology. Marie simply stared at her without a word, while Elisha, in contrast, reached out a hand with a smile to break the awkward air.
"You're Miss Elua, I believe? It's a pleasure to meet you properly."
Such a mature response—you'd never guess they were the same age. Was it the social polish instilled by a ducal house? Or simply a naturally considerate nature? Either way, I was grateful for it.
"Mm, yeah…. Nice to meet you too."
Rone clasped the offered hand and returned the greeting, but an awkward stiffness still lingered in her expression.
Come to think of it, this girl was secretly rather shy around strangers.
Elisha had visited her in the hospital, and they'd exchanged the usual introductions and sorted out what to call each other, but they weren't exactly close yet—of course things would be stiff. The sheer gap in her counterpart's status probably didn't help either.
When Rone soon shot me a beseeching glance that practically begged for help, I couldn't hold back a wry laugh.
"Morning assembly is almost upon us, so perhaps we should exchange the rest of our pleasantries some other time and head to our classrooms. I was waiting here because Marie was so worried about you, Dinauer."
"Oh, is that so? I had no idea I was the object of such devoted attention—"
When Elisha lobbed that little jab over the net, I smashed it right back down, and sure enough, a certain pink frog leapt a foot off the ground.
Whoa, when it came to jumping power, that girl really was a frog in every sense. For a split second, I thought that tiny body of hers might actually touch the ceiling.
"Elisha! Don't just make things up!"
"Pfft—my apologies. Well, having seen with my own eyes that you've recovered, I can return home with peace of mind. Isn't that right, Marie?"
"If you cut it off right there, people will think I actually was worried!"
Marie's face flushed scarlet as she snuck a glance my way, then spun on her heel and marched off into the distance without so much as a goodbye. Elisha chuckled at the sight of her retreating back, waved to us, and followed after her—unhurried, as if she knew full well Marie would wait for her.
Watching that scene, it finally hit me: I was truly back at the Academy.
Marie stormed into the main building with her face still burning and immediately rounded on Elisha.
She had been the one who suggested they wait for Vel to show up in the first place—so why on earth had she been thrown under the bus? It made no sense.
"I'm sorry, Marie. I only meant it as a joke. I didn't realize you'd be that embarrassed."
"I-I'm not embarrassed, I'm angry! Anyone could tell that that commoner is going to come crawling up here with his nose in the air again!"
Marie huffed and puffed, steam practically shooting in every direction, but Elisha quickly soothed her down and steered the conversation elsewhere. This was where the hard-earned know-how of a long friendship proved its worth.
"Come to think of it, Miss Elua seemed rather ordinary—nothing like what you described. I didn't sense anything strange about her at all."
"Th-that's not what I meant by strange! I never put it that strongly."
When Elisha phrased it as though Marie had badmouthed someone behind their back, Marie hurried to set the record straight. It was gossip, admittedly—but she'd never come out and openly disparaged Rone.
"Ah, that's right, you didn't. Still, you did say the atmosphere around her was peculiar, didn't you?"
"I-I did. It's not that she seemed like a bad person, exactly…. It's more like she's got her edges showing, you know?"
"I didn't get that feeling at all, so it's fascinating. Perhaps she's simply shy around new people?"
Elisha tilted her head to the side, as if nothing about it gave her pause.
Part of Marie wanted to add something, but putting that particular truth into words felt too awkward, so she chewed on her lip and gave up on speaking.
What was that, anyway? What I saw.
Even now, Marie could only dwell on the question, her first meeting with Rone still burned into her memory.
She'd opened the door to the hospital room carefully, having accidentally arrived without sending word ahead—and the first thing she saw was Vel's body laid out on the bed.
Not that she'd stared at a strange man's body first or anything of the sort; his face had been obscured from view, that was all.
Yes—obscured by a woman who had lifted her hips only slightly off the visitor's wooden chair, leaning her upper body forward over the bed.
When the door opened, the woman dropped back down in a panic at the sound of company, but Marie had witnessed the scene clearly, with both her own two eyes.
When Rone finally asked who she was, Marie answered that she was a friend, and the edge in Rone's eyes quickly settled into calm. Having glimpsed all that, Marie concluding that the two of them were lovers was hardly an unreasonable leap.
But they said they weren't lovers.
Certainly, in a way that bore out Vel's words, there was almost none of the tender intimacy between them that one would sense from a couple. At least, that had been Marie's impression.
But then what was their relationship?
Calling it mere bond from a shared childhood didn't sit right either—the reaction Rone had shown that day still lingered in Marie's head, refusing to dissolve easily.
One-sided love? That was the most likely answer, but still.
Would anyone really react like that over just that much?
When she asked herself the question, no satisfactory answer came, and Marie shook her head.
Somehow it felt like she'd seen something she was never meant to see.
Neither Rone, who had said nothing since, nor Vel, who carried on as if he knew nothing at all, would fade from her mind—they kept flickering there, over and over.
Having tucked away the memory of that day—something she couldn't tell Elisha either—safely in a corner of her mind, Marie set off toward the classroom.
Praying that it would be forgotten soon, and that her instincts had simply been a little too sharp, nothing more.