On the Hill

Looking back, even someone like me—who seemed to share nothing at all with Eline—had one thing in common with her.

We both loved to walk.

I liked gazing up at the sky and the stars; she simply liked wandering. That was the difference. Yet in a way, it was probably why we could stroll for hours without a single complaint.

“…”

After the liberal arts lecture ended, Eline and I stepped outside.

And now we had been walking in silence for a full ten minutes. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Between the tall rows of trees lining the path, a crimson sunset was sinking, and we headed north as we always did—toward the quiet side of campus.

…

If the feelings I used to carry were anxiety and constant wariness, now it was only worry for Eline that pressed to the front.

Her expression was deeply sunken, her eyes unfocused as though her thoughts were somewhere else entirely. She walked as if she could not see the path ahead, simply following the pull of my hand.

Tell me when you’re not shaken.

Her words came back to me. At the time I had thought she said them only out of consideration for me. Seeing her now, I thought I understood a little better.

I did not want to force an answer from her. Just when she was ready, when she wanted to.

A faint restlessness was inevitable, but that was something I had to bear.

If I can’t even wait this much…

I would have no face left to show the Eline who waited for me.

How many more minutes did we walk?

Once the tree-lined avenue ended, the Northern District came into view—its desolate old buildings rising one after another. The worn structures were dyed in red light. We walked between them.

“Lutes.”

“Yeah?”

At last Eline broke the long silence.

“Were you worried a lot?”

“…No. I’m fine.”

Of course it was a lie. I had been terribly worried. I had never seen her look so drained before.

“You changed your perfume.”

I shifted the subject as casually as I could. I had been so focused on how lifeless she seemed that I only now noticed it—there were no flowers nearby, yet a sweet fragrance kept drifting to my nose.

“How is it?”

“It suits you.”

“…”

Eline gave no particular reaction, but she carefully lifted a strand of her hair and sniffed it. Then her fingers fidgeted, and she tightened her grip on my hand.

Maybe she’s a little more at ease.

I hoped so. She did not even have to tell me anything. I just wanted her heart to feel lighter.

“Ah.”

As the buildings of the Northern District thinned out, a gentle slope came into sight. From what I remembered, above it lay an outer boundary of wild grass and a fence that marked the edge of the academy—The Hill.

If we climbed it, studying for the day would be finished.

I said nothing. I wanted to leave the choice entirely to her.

“Lutes.”

“Yeah?”

“…I want to rest. Just for today.”

Her words. I nodded without a single protest, and together we started up the slope.

Just like in the Whispering Forest, no students came here on a Friday afternoon. The only presence we felt was our own.

“Have you ever climbed up here?”

“First time.”

I nodded at her answer ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and kept climbing. Trees dyed red cast long shadows. Aside from our footsteps, everything was still—no stream, no birdsong. Only a quiet place where scattered small stones stood as if to say it was all right for people to pass.

The hill I had not climbed in a long while was fairly long and steep. When I glanced back, Eline’s expression was still calm, though a bead or two of sweat had formed on her brow. Her breathing had not broken rhythm, so she was not truly tired.

Good thing I climbed mountains so often as a kid.

Playing with the village children always ended in mountain climbing—kids from our village and from others. Looking back, we were so young we never even knew whose territory each village belonged to. Childhood memories were always a jumble like that.

While those idle thoughts drifted through my mind, the end of the slope seemed to draw near.

“Haa…”

When we crested the final rise, a wide plain of wild grass opened before us. The view was… of course it was beautiful. The evening glow stretched far beyond the horizon, and when we turned our heads the academy buildings looked as small as toy models. Whenever the wind blew, the grass rolled in waves like a green sea.

“It’s nice.”

The last time I had come up here I had not felt this way at all. We let our gazes wander for a while, then chose a random spot and sat. Cool wind brushed our faces as we quietly took in the scenery, and we laced our fingers together again.

“Lutes.”

“Mm?”

“The person you met at the visitation hall last time—you said they were family, right?”

The visitation hall. The place where I had met Eline’s mother, Clenoa, and where I had last seen Alfred off.

“Well… they weren’t actually family.”

I had brushed it off once before, but when she asked again I did not want to lie a second time.

“…Really?”

Eline’s eyes, which had been on the sunset, turned to me.

“Someone more precious than family.”

“…”

I wondered how she understood ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠those words. It was simply the truth—Alfred was more precious to me than people who shared my blood yet held almost no real affection.

“Your family didn’t come?”

“They’re out west, so it’s pretty far.”

I calmly used the distance as an excuse for their absence.

“The west…”

Eline seemed to search her memory for a moment.

“Lutes, so you come from a knight family.”

A knight family.

“How did you know?”

My eyes widened at the unexpected remark. Long ago, before magic became practical, it had been the knights with their swords who protected the empire from monsters and outsiders.

These days the north received most of the attention—watching for monsters and the northern tribes—but before the empire fully pacified the continent, many remnant forces had lingered in the west.

Naturally, those who earned merit or possessed outstanding knightly talent began to emerge from the west, and so most of the western territories traced their founding lines back to knight houses. The Riperto family was no exception.

Of course, now…

With the continent pacified, the west was considered the most peaceful region after the south, and the Riperto family had somehow shifted to wheat fields and farming. Still, the fact that Eline knew any of this surprised me—until I realized that anyone who paid even a little attention to history would know it. Of course Eline would.

She continued evenly.

“When I was little I went to the west for a short while. That’s why I remembered.”

“You came to the west?”

“The family head was a court mage. Monsters suddenly started appearing in large numbers, so he was dispatched. I went with him.”

I remembered. The western region bordered the Holy Kingdom, so unlike the completely peaceful south it still saw occasional monster outbreaks. When I was small there had been a sudden surge that put the whole area under outdoor restrictions. Of course no one had cared if I slipped out anyway.

“Wasn’t it dangerous?”

Considering Eline and I were the same age, she would have been very young when that happened. Taking her along on a court-mage deployment—whatever kind of person the Payless family head was, he must have had nerves of steel.

“I don’t remember clearly. It was so long ago, and… I was in a daze back then.”

In a daze. That made sense. During the restrictions people from other territories had come to our village, and people from ours had lived elsewhere for a while.

“…I cried a lot then.”

“Really?”

I could not even picture Eline crying.

“What, you don’t believe me?”

“Honestly… yeah.”

At my words she stared at me for a moment, then turned her head away.

“I received a letter from the family head today.”

By now the sunset had shifted to violet, more than half the sun already sunk beyond the horizon. After a long silence Eline slowly spoke again.

“Lutes.”

“Yeah.”

“…I’m scared of the family head.”

The sun vanished completely, and darkness settled in its place. Even without her saying more, I thought I understood the reason. When she was little, many things must have happened. It might have been prejudice on my part, but perhaps that was also why she could endure such a murderous schedule…

“And now? …Yeah. I think I still am.”

Calmly beginning her story, Eline’s eyes held the past. When she gripped my hand tightly, it was not so much the tremor as the resonance of her voice that traveled through our joined fingers.

“I got the letter at lunch today… and it brought back old memories. That’s why I looked like that in front of you.”

She turned her head slightly to look at me.

“It’s strange, right?”

“Not at all.”

An immediate answer.

“…Really?”

“Yeah. Not strange at all.”

I looked up at the sky. The violet was gradually turning black, and one by one the shining stars began to appear.

“I used to care a lot too.”

When I was little. Before I understood their ways, I could not grasp why only I was neglected, so I did every kind of thing to get attention. I deliberately fell down the stairs, deliberately caught colds in the freezing winter, even starved myself for days. Nothing came of it. They only scolded me when I did something wrong.

“Now… well, not really.”

It was familiar by now. I no longer wanted to wonder why they acted that way. When I showed them magic they finally took an interest and sent me to the academy. If I earned a diploma in exchange for magic, I would be able to receive food, clothing, and shelter at my brother’s side without having to watch his mood. That would be enough, wouldn’t it?

“So it’s okay.”

At my words Eline looked at me. Our lives had been different, of course, but I hoped even a little of this might comfort her. And I hoped that the me of now could be even a little strength for her.

“Yeah…”

Silence settled over us.

“Eline.”

Our eyes met.

“If something’s hard, I’ll help you.”

“…”

“I don’t know if I’ll be any use, but I still want to help you.”

Eline had always been hard to face directly, yet this time I did ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠not want to look away.

“It doesn’t even have to be because we’re lovers. I just don’t want to see you looking like that.”

She gazed at me steadily, then carefully opened her mouth.

“You’ll really listen to anything?”

“If it’s something I can do.”

Guilt and self-mockery both had to be pushed down for now.

“Thank you.”

At my answer Eline seemed to lighten a little; a faint smile touched her lips.

By then a bluish moonlight was brightly illuminating the plain, and the Milky Way cut across the ceiling of the night sky. The distance between us had closed, and the sound of her heartbeat quietly filled the stillness. One by one the academy buildings lit up, glowing like tiny candle flames.

“Lutes.”

“Yeah.”

The wind blew.

“I like you.”

Eline’s voice held no tremor. How many times had this been? Every time before I had mumbled something vague, but I no longer wanted to. I looked at her without wavering. I hoped she saw the same in me. With difficulty I opened my mouth so she could hear.

“…Me too.”

Of course my voice was shaking.

Hearing my answer, Eline wordlessly pulled me closer.

Thud—

She pressed her forehead to mine.

“Eli—”

“Just a moment.”

She spoke quietly.

“Just stay like this for a little while, Lutes.”

…

“Okay.”

And so the two of us stayed with our foreheads touching, eyes quietly closed.

For a long time.

Until the wind became familiar.