Even Long Journeys End - 3
Brother left for work the moment he returned to the Imperial Capital. Bureaucracy really was grueling work. I could not recall ever seeing him truly at ease.
I must never become a civil servant.
I still had not decided on a path after graduation, but I would avoid the bureaucracy at least. I was nowhere near as remarkable as Brother; I would never last.
That was why I fretted every time I saw him. He already looked exhausted—what must it be like in truth? Students at least received vacations, but Brother had nothing of the sort.
Should I make him something?
The thought rose in earnest. At the Academy I had baked cookies laced with every restorative herb I could find, yet after the break I had stopped. A guest lingering in the kitchen was improper.
The butler had heard we ran the Baking Club and told us we were free to use the kitchens as we pleased, but I had still never set foot near them. The food prepared by the estate’s own staff would surely be better for Brother than anything I baked. There was no sense in getting in the experts’ way.
Yet watching him crushed under work, I wanted to help even a little. Just a moment—only a brief moment—surely it would be all right if I slipped into the kitchen?
“No one will ever say it was your fault.”
The voice seemed to linger at my ear; I shook my head hard. That day Brother had listened to my complaints and spoken the words I needed to hear.
Right—I still had not properly repaid him for that. A small token of thanks before any more time slipped away would be only proper.
Yes, that was why the idea had come. Because I still owed him, that was all.
That is all it is. Nothing more.
I made excuses to myself even though no one was listening. No—not excuses.
I pressed a hand to my steadily warming cheeks and headed for the commercial district. There would be no medicinal herbs in the kitchen, after all.
I slipped quietly out of the estate and bought a full armful of ingredients. If anyone noticed, what I could manage alone would turn into a group outing, and that would rather spoil things.
“Brother?”
“Hm?”
On the way back I ran into him—right in front of the main gate, so calling it “the way” felt a stretch.
I had not expected to see him at this hour. He usually returned only after the sun was nearly gone.
I was trying to keep it secret…
I had been caught before I could even make the surprise gift. I had deliberately chosen a time when he would be gone, yet here we were.
It felt as though Enen Himself were scolding me for hiding anything from Brother. We had already laid every secret bare between us, so—
No.
My thoughts kept sliding in strange directions. This would not do.
Brother was staring at me so intently that my mind refused to work properly. What was it? Why was he looking at me like that? Had something odd gotten stuck to my face?
Or did he have something to say? Here, where we had met by chance, just the two of us…
“Luise, do you have a moment?”
“Pardon?”
My hands trembled so hard I nearly dropped every package, but I managed to steady myself. Why was I like this? It was hardly the first time I had been alone with him.
I stole several glances in his direction only for our eyes to meet. For an instant I almost looked away, but that would have been even more awkward.
“Sorry to spring this on you.”
“It’s fine. I have plenty of time.”
I shook my head hurriedly at his apology. Thanks to him I was resting comfortably in the capital; if he asked for me, I would make time even if none existed. That was only proper.
At my vehemence Brother let out a small laugh. Had I shaken my head a little too hard?
“There’s something I’d like advice on.”
“Ah—yes! Anytime!”
At the word “advice” every scrap of embarrassment vanished and my heart began to pound.
Even at the Academy I had told him steadily: if anything troubled him, he should speak whenever he wished. I owed him so much; I wanted to repay even a little.
Yet instead of opening up, he had listened to my own childish complaints. Separate from gratitude, the memory still made me squirm with mortification.
Finally.
Now Brother would share the worries he had kept hidden. At last I could return a fraction of what he had given me.
And now… he trusted me enough to confide, did he not…?
A thrill I could not name spread through my entire chest as I waited for him to speak.
“There’s someone I know—”
The predictable yet unexpected opening nearly made me laugh.
Brother, in a situation like this, “someone I know” was obviously an excuse.
He seemed to realize it himself; he closed his mouth again and stared awkwardly at the ground.
The indecision that had dirtied my heart flared one last time.
“There’s someone I know—”
What the hell am I even saying.
Self-loathing hit me. Anyone could see that dragging “someone I know” into an atmosphere like this was pure excuse—a way of saying I’m about to talk about something really embarrassing, but it’s not about me.
I had come seeking courage and instead displayed courage scraping the floor. If there were a rest home for super-cowards, I would be a VVIP.
“…It’s about me.”
“Yes—the someone Brother knows who is Brother.”
Luise’s lightly smiling reply made me feel even more wretched, yet the self-loathing I had just vented somehow settled my heart.
“A few years ago something bad happened.”
I spoke carefully, avoiding any direct mention of the event itself.
I was consulting Luise to find the courage to tell Margeta, not to dump everything on Luise. Piling my wounds onto a girl who had not yet fully healed her own would have been unforgivable.
“Because of that, I shrank back a little. I think I pushed other people away more than once.”
From Margeta’s perspective it had been neither “a little” nor “more than once.” I was endlessly sorry.
“And after pushing them away, I never explained the circumstances. I said nothing at all.”
Truly nothing. No account of my situation, no request to wait because of this or that. None of it.
“It was too much. If I pushed someone away for my own reasons, I should at least have told them what those reasons were.”
The choice had been entirely mine. Because I still could not forget Hecate, I had been unable to accept Margeta. An undeniable choice of my own making.
And Margeta? Had her choice been equally free? Of course not. A free choice is only possible when every piece of information is available. How could she choose freely when I deliberately withheld that information?
I had suppressed Margeta for my own sake. No amount of dressing it up changed that fact.
“I was scared to speak. Afraid that saying anything might destroy the relationship we have now, afraid I would only burden her.”
I fell silent for a moment and studied Luise’s face.
She listened quietly, blue eyes bright. She showed neither startlement nor reluctance at the sudden confession, nor even pity—only quiet attention.
Because of that, oddly, my heart felt lighter. Thank you.
“Honestly, I was just scared. There’s no other way to put it.”
I reached out and patted her shoulder a few times.
Until now I had always felt ashamed whenever Luise, younger than I, worried over me. Thinking about it now, what did I have over her besides age? At least she had found her own courage.
“So I wanted advice from someone who has courage.”
“I think you’ve got the wrong person.”
“I don’t know—I think I found the right one.”
We both smiled at that. It was not particularly funny, yet laughter came unbidden.
Still smiling, Luise fixed her gaze on mine and spoke softly.
“If you’re a coward, wouldn’t you actually want to lean on someone else?”
An answer I had not expected.
“Truthfully, I didn’t speak out of courage either. I just wanted to say it—I thought if it was you, Brother, you would listen. It was nothing but childish dependence.”
She laughed sheepishly, yet the words kept coming.
“Terrified of keeping it inside, terrified of telling anyone, yet still wanting to pour it out to someone, wanting comfort. Is there another coward like that in the world?”
As she spoke she laid her hand over the one resting on her shoulder. I almost pulled away on reflex, but she held on and would not let go.
“It was only a coward thrashing about until the words spilled out. But you listened to that coward, Brother.”
Would the person you want to confide in turn away from a coward’s cry? The addition left me speechless.
No. The Margeta I knew was not that kind of person. Even if she heard someone else’s trauma, she would never take it lightly.
“Or is the thing you carry something that happened because of your own fault, Brother? Is that why you’re afraid to tell anyone?”
Regrettably I could not answer with confidence. If I had been a sturdier pillar for Hecate, that day might never have come.
I stood silent, unable to open my mouth, and Luise smiled gently.
“You never wished for it to happen, Brother.”
Familiar words.
“And you never looked away from it either.”
The same words returned with our positions reversed.
“You never forgot.”
My face heated for more reasons than one. What on earth had I been thinking when I said those things back then? I had spoken so confidently while I could not even take care of myself.
“Then no one will ever say it was your fault.”
“…Those are the words I wanted to hear.”
“They were the words I wanted to hear too.”
A hollow laugh escaped me. Now I was losing to Luise even in eloquence.
“Yes. I wanted to hear them.”
Still, it was fortunate I had lost that contest of words.
If I had been uselessly silver-tongued, persuasion would have failed. I would still be hesitating even now.
“Thank you.”
No wonder she was the original heroine.
“Not at all.”
Luise’s bright smile gave me the courage to look properly at Margeta.
Or was it not courage, but the desire of a coward to lean on someone?
Courage or cowardice—it no longer mattered. The result would be the same either way.
It took a whole year.
One year since I met Margeta. Only now could I show her my true heart.