Anguish
Ian finished her training and stepped out of the sparring grounds to wait for Rui.
She was savoring the cool breeze drying the sweat on her skin when someone approached. She had assumed it was Rui, but the figure turned out to be someone else entirely.
Abel.
The captain of the team that had kicked her and Rui out—the very person responsible.
Seeing that face she had no desire to meet again, Ian’s mood soured in an instant.
“Hey, Ian.”
“…Hah.”
After the usual empty greeting, Abel launched into the same old pitch, just as he always did.
Come back. That was the long and short of it.
Ian listened in silence.
“I’d appreciate an answer soon. We need to decide.”
His voice was as slick and leisurely as ever, which only made her irritation climb higher. Her brow furrowed of its own accord, and she fixed him with a hard stare.
“I think I already told you last time… Is your memory failing you?”
He had made the same offer once before. Ian had refused him flatly. The betrayal of being discarded had been part of it, but more than anything, she would never accept a proposal that meant abandoning Rui.
Abel let out a short sigh and removed his glasses.
“Are you stupid, or just dense…? Ah, same thing, I suppose.”
“What?”
As he calmly polished the lenses, pity and contempt swam in his eyes.
“Face reality, Ian. Drop the romance and the friendship nonsense.”
He finished wiping the glasses and slipped them back on.
“I’ll admit, kicking you out was unexpected. I didn’t want that either. But Rui? That’s different.”
“…”
She had expected something like this, yet the sheer shamelessness of the way he said it left her speechless.
“She’s a commoner by birth. You’re hanging around together now, but after graduation? Are you going to take her with you? People like us—nobles—can never truly mix with her for life.”
He wasn’t wrong. The times had shifted toward valuing ability, but the foundations of the class system remained unshaken.
“What do you gain by clinging to pride for her sake? Friendship? Planning a little picnic on a picnic blanket together?”
“Shut up.”
“Listen carefully, Ian. We’re third-years now. Graduation is only a few months away. Don’t forget your station over a year or two of mixing with her.”
Every word was true. She had no rebuttal.
“This is my final offer. You’ve got until Monday. If you change your mind, come find us. You know where we meet—we gathered there all winter break.”
With that, Abel turned and walked off without a backward glance, as if he had nothing more to say.
…
Ian’s head began to ache.
If she thought of her family, remaining in Alpha Class was the obvious choice. In her declining house, she was the sole hope. Joining the Holy Fire Festival on Abel’s team wouldn’t guarantee she stayed in Alpha, but it would certainly improve her odds.
…Even so.
Even so, she could not accept.
Because she had a friend.
Yes. A friend.
“Ian!”
From a distance, Rui came running toward her with a bright, carefree smile.
Ian’s heart lurched for a second—had she overheard the conversation?—but the clear smile still on Rui’s face let her breathe out in relief.
“…You’re early.”
She set her tangled thoughts aside and greeted her friend.
“Yeah! I’m starving—let’s go eat already!”
Rui grabbed her hand and started pulling her toward the dining hall at a run.
Rui was always cheerful, but today her energy seemed especially forced. Ian said nothing about it.
“Hey, Rui—aren’t you going a little too fast?”
“…”
Rui never looked back. She just kept running toward the dining hall, as if something were chasing her.
Once they reached the dining hall they ordered as usual and sat by the window to eat.
They had always stuck together, so it was true they rarely had new topics to discuss.
“…”
“…”
Today, though, the silence felt heavier than ever.
Ian found herself worrying about Rui, yet Abel’s words kept surfacing, and she ended up eating absently. Her resolve to stay with Rui had not changed—not really.
I’m counting on you, Ian.
The memory of her father’s face rose unbidden—the way he had taken both her hands just before she left for the academy.
“Ian.”
Rui called her name mid-bite. Ian, who had been staring blankly, jerked her head up.
“…Huh. Yeah.”
Her voice cracked a little. Had Rui noticed?
Their eyes met.
“…Rui?”
Rui was smiling, the same clean, sunlit smile she always wore. But today a cloud seemed to hang over it, dulling the light.
“Let’s give up on the Holy Fire Festival.”
She said it flatly.
“…What?”
“I said let’s give up on the Holy Fire Festival.”
The words hit like a blow to the head. Every thought in Ian’s mind vanished at once.
“I’ve been thinking. Finding other people is hard, and it might be better to focus on the exams from now on.”
Rui’s voice was startlingly detached—so detached it sounded as if she were reading a newspaper aloud, stripped of all feeling.
“…”
When they had been kicked out together, Rui had been the one who encouraged her more than anyone.
It’s okay, Ian! We’ll find another team!
That had been less than half a year ago, in winter. Rui had been the one who pulled Ian up when she was drowning in shock and betrayal.
And now she wanted to quit?
“Rui, I misheard you, right?”
“No.”
The answer was firm.
“Let’s give up on the Holy Fire Festival.”
The words sank into her ears again, clear and final.
Only a couple of days ago Rui had been running around desperately looking for teammates. This sudden change made no sense.
Don’t tell me…
“Did Abel come see you?”
Rui shook her head.
“No. I’ve just been thinking it over by myself.”
“You—”
Ian’s grip tightened on her fork. The sunlight seemed to vanish. Clouds had gathered over Rui’s face; rain looked ready to fall at any moment.
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”
Ian tried to brush it off and keep eating.
“Ian.”
Rui’s voice was heavier than Ian had ever heard it. She flinched and looked up.
“…Let’s not be stubborn anymore.”
Stubborn.
Ian set her fork down.
“What did you just say?”
“I’ve been thinking… maybe we’ve been too stubborn about—”
Bang—
Before Rui could finish, Ian slammed her hands on the table and shot to her feet. The fork slipped from her fingers and clattered against the metal tray with a harsh ring. Every eye in the quiet dining hall turned toward them.
“Stubborn?”
Ian’s voice began to shake.
“Stubborn? Is that all you think we’ve been doing?”
Her volume rose. Whispers spread as more heads turned, but Ian saw only Rui. Shock at the sudden change warred with a growing sense of betrayal.
“Ian…”
Ian turned away. If she listened any longer the resentment would swell, and she would end up yelling at Rui.
“I’m leaving first. We’ll talk later.”
She did not look back. Right now all she wanted was to get out of there. She roughly gathered her dishes and walked out, never once seeing the expression on Rui’s face.
In the end Rui finished her meal alone.
The stares made her uncomfortable, but she had been taught that wasting food was wrong.
She tasted nothing. Only the conversation between Ian and Abel played over and over in her head.
…Because of me.
If she hadn’t been there, would Ian have gone back to that team?
She could endure having her efforts belittled, endure being dismissed as delusional. But the knowledge that she had become a burden to her closest friend cut deeper than any blade.
A clatter of metal reached her ears.
“Ah.”
When she came back to herself the plate was empty. Her own hand was still mechanically scraping the bare dish with a fork.
She rose weakly, cleared her tray, and left the dining hall.
It was the weekend; the academy grounds were quiet and nearly empty. She walked without destination, simply wandering.
After what must have been hours her legs began to ache, and she sat down on a bench without a word.
She had always been told that if you smiled, good fortune would come. It was something her father—who told simple, funny stories—and her wise mother had taught her. The villagers would smile when they saw her smile, and that only made her smile more.
“…”
The sun slipped behind the clouds.
“…Heh.”
The reality she first tasted after leaving her village was not kind. Geniuses who made her hard work look laughable were everywhere, and the wall of status pressed in tighter still.
When things got hard, she smiled.
…
“Hic…”
The clouds that had swallowed the sun grew darker.
“…Hic… uh… kuh…”
Rain began to fall through the darkening sky.
“Hic… kuh… uh…”
She knew she should hold it in, but once the dam of emotion cracked she had no way to stop the flood. Tears poured out of her, and Rui sat on the bench and cried for a long time under the rain.
“…”
After crying herself empty, her heart finally settled.
“Sniff.”
Her nose throbbed; her swollen eyes stung. She smoothed her tangled hair with one hand.
She set her ideals aside and looked at reality.
Even if she and Ian—whose skills were barely hanging on—managed to recruit other students, their team would be eliminated early. They would never reach the upper ranks. Abel was right: the odds were low.
“….”
She had climbed into Alpha Class, worked with everything she had, and kept smiling. Sometimes she was ignored, but she hadn’t cared. She had believed that effort would earn recognition.
Had it all been wasted? Pointless?
While those thoughts circled—
Thud—
Someone was walking toward her. The approach was so natural, so fluid, that Rui startled and ducked her head even lower.
…Ian?
Was it Ian? She hurriedly wiped her tears, not wanting to be seen crying.
“I wasn’t crying—you can’t just show up out of nowhere and—”
“Uh… Rui?”
Her frantic wiping froze.
That was not Ian’s voice.
A low, mid-range male voice—one she had heard before and recognized.
Rui lifted her head. Standing there was not Ian, but someone she had never expected.
“Hello.”
A boy looking at her with an awkward smile. Dark brown hair with black undertones, and an air that was both casual and quietly composed.
“Lutes…?”
It was Lutes Riperto.
Why was he here now? Rui hastily lowered her swollen eyes again.
“…What brings you…?”
Her voice came out tiny. Lutes scratched the back of his head.
“This… isn’t a good time for a conversation, is it?”
Rui gave a small shake of her head.
“I’m fine….”
“Really?”
She nodded faintly, then slowly raised her face. She had been taught that unloading your feelings on others was a terrible thing to do.
“Yes… I’m really fi—”
She took a breath and lifted her head fully—and the words died in her throat.
“Hi.”
Beside Lutes stood a girl who had appeared without Rui noticing. The girl Rui had always looked up to as an idol.
“…Eline?”
It was Eline Payless.