Night of the Full Moon (8)
Night of the Full Moon (8)
"Eat up. I made it myself."
Rina stared at the lunch box placed before her.
The container was elegant. A subtle, pleasant aroma wafted from inside.
— Blink. Blink.
Rina slowly lifted her head.
Ian Blackangus.
He was looking at her with a blank expression.
As if that deadpan face was supposed to be cool or something.
But Rina knew better now.
She knew that he'd been showing this same kindness to other girls — just yesterday, and again today. And she knew that kindness came with strings attached.
"......."
Rina had always been the nice one.
It was her nature, but it was also what everyone expected of her — a mold that encased her whole being.
No matter how someone acted, Rina could usually respond with warmth and gentleness.
Even so, the sight of Ian right now made her suddenly, irrationally angry.
'... I did have my hopes up. Just a little.'
He was different, at least to her.
The feeling wasn't huge, but it was there — a tiny, quiet flicker of curiosity.
Why does he go so far out of his way for me? The question made her wonder. It stirred a small sense of anticipation.
A flutter of hope that maybe she was special to him.
And what crushed that hope was none other than Ian's attitude.
Now here he was, brazenly holding out a lunch box as if nothing had happened. The sight made fury boil up inside her all at once.
Color rose faintly in Rina's cheeks.
Her face grew hot.
It had been so long since she'd felt real anger that she startled even herself. She bit her lower lip.
'Does he think he can just walk all over me because I've been too nice?'
That was it.
Rina's "niceness" had finally formed its first crack.
The crack was a small hole, barely as large as the tiny hope she'd once let herself feel for a boy named Ian Blackangus.
Before she knew it, Rina snapped at him.
"You're giving me this lunch box? To eat?"
"That's right."
"Why?"
Even Rina was startled by how coldly the single syllable cut through the air.
"...Huh?"
Ian blinked back at her, dumbfounded.
His cluelessness only made her angrier — it felt like he was mocking her.
"Why are you giving it to me?"
The cool-guy act Ian had been putting on crumbled to pieces on the spot.
He started stumbling over his words.
"Th...this is. Well. There was, um, ex...extra. From making it."
"Aha. Extra, huh. So you've been making the rounds, taking care of someone else in class, I suppose?"
"No. That's not— The lunch box is only for you......."
"Oh. So *this* lunch box is just for me?"
Rina smiled out of sheer habit.
But the corners of her lips were trembling faintly.
"What an honor. But why me, specifically?"
"Huh...?"
"I asked why me."
"Th...that's. I just happened to find out your family's going through a rough time. So I figured I should, y'know, look out for you a bit."
Look out for her.
Normally, she would have just felt grateful that he meant well.
But this? Handing out the same "care" to anyone and everyone?
'Ha!'
Her insides were churning.
Irritation prickled all over her.
She couldn't explain why, but she'd never felt anything quite like this before.
The words just started spilling out, unchecked.
"You think I'm some beggar or something?"
"N-no... it's not like that."
"Then what is it? Why give me this?"
"Well, I... you just looked hungry......."
Ian was visibly flustered now.
Just pathetically miserable.
Rina snatched the lunch box from his hands.
"Aha. So you're just pitying me."
"Ah......."
"I mean, sure. Friends look out for each other like this, right? Don't they?"
"Y-yeah. Because we're friends."
Friends, her ass.
He'd clearly come here to confess again today.
She could tell just by looking at him.
So Rina made herself smile on purpose.
"Ah~ sorry, aha! Guess I got the wrong idea for a second. Thought maybe you were confessing to me?"
"......."
"No way friends would do that, right? Right?"
"...Yeah."
"Okay then. Thanks, Ian. I'll gratefully accept your pity."
Looking out for her? Fine. The whole cool-guy act? ...Sure, whatever, let's say she could tolerate it.
But no matter how nice Rina was, she still had her pride. Ian had utterly, ruthlessly smashed it to bits.
'Pathetic bastard.'
Rina grabbed the lunch box and turned her back on him.
"Hey, uh, but Rina......."
She ignored whatever he was mumbling.
— SLAM!
They'd been the only two in the room anyway. Nobody was watching.
She slammed the classroom door with all her strength.
Then she headed up to the roof, where she could be alone.
Rina leaned against the wall and sat down.
A lunch box handed to her by a worthless jerk.
"......."
But she had to eat it.
If she didn't at least have this, she wouldn't eat at all today.
Click. She opened the lunch box.
— I'll always cheer for you. I like you.
The moment the lid came off, she saw the side dishes arranged to spell out words.
"Ugh, seriously."
For a moment, she considered just hurling the whole thing away....
— Gurgle.
Instead, Rina ground the food to bits with her chopsticks.
She crushed it until every last letter was unrecognizable.
Then she ate.
"Haah...."
A storm of emotions swirled inside her as she chewed.
The faint fondness she'd felt when Ian first gave her school supplies. The sense of betrayal when she realized he did the same for everyone. And now, a creeping self-disgust as she forced herself to swallow every bite.
That was the moment the crack in Rina's niceness first formed.
The name of that crack was Ian Blackangus.
And one day later.
Ian threw himself off the roof.
◆
During the week he was gone, a restless unease settled over everything.
His absence felt impossibly large.
Because the desk that had always been stuffed full was now completely empty.
She was hitting her limit.
The shell of "niceness" she'd trapped herself in was constricting around her, suffocating.
She wished someone — anyone — would come and save her from herself.
And then one day.
— Scrape.
The classroom door slid open, and he returned.
She was shocked. She'd heard he was badly hurt. She'd assumed he'd never come back.
At the same time, Rina knew it in her gut.
Ian was utterly, completely changed.
The first thing that was different was his eyes.
They used to be timid, almost fawning.
'.......'
Now they were impossibly cold. She could barely meet his gaze.
— Clatter.
And there were no supplies. No lunch box. Nothing.
He paid her no attention at all — as if he'd completely forgotten her during those few days he was gone.
As if he were condemning Rina Rosewell herself.
— A perfectly correct answer, Cadet Ian!
— An excellent approach. Very creative. Stay behind after class, please.
He started standing out in lectures, earning praise from professors, getting top marks.
And if their eyes so much as met, he'd look away. Ignore her entirely.
— Thump.
Her heart suddenly raced at the look in his eyes.
'... Huh?'
She was confused. Why? She was supposed to hate Ian, wasn't she?
Then it hit her.
Ian was no longer looking at the Rina who was trapped inside the mold of "niceness."
He was looking past that shell to the real Rina Rosewell beneath it — and his gaze was cold and merciless.
This from Ian, who used to obsess over appearances more than anyone.
His sudden, suspicious glare only drew her interest further.
Because Rina had been waiting for exactly that. Waiting for someone — anyone — to finally shatter the image she'd been forced to maintain.
'... How did you manage it?'
She was curious. What had changed in Ian's eyes so suddenly?
She got her chance during the Shadow Forest field exercise.
They were assigned as a team — just the two of them. She'd wanted to ask him then.
But things didn't go as planned.
And after that day, the whispers started.
— If Ian keeps outperforming you like this, won't you end up losing your scholarship?
The whispers subtly steered her emotions.
Feelings she had long suppressed just to keep up her good-girl act began bubbling up.
Rage.
Envy.
Aggression.
All those feelings seeped out through the hole that had been drilled into her heart.
Through the hole named Ian Blackangus.
— He's the one who betrayed you. And what about that suicide note? Do you actually think he could be your savior?
Now that she thought about it, she'd always disliked Ian.
She had hated him.
— Get rid of him.
She nodded along with the whisper.
Ian felt like someone she could hate. Someone she was allowed to hate.
◆
Rina shook herself free of the memories.
She looked around.
Everything was pitch black.
She was still inside the space of her own consciousness.
"......."
And then she realized.
That what she'd just experienced had been her life flashing before her eyes.
As if by some magic, her heart finally felt clear.
"In the end... I didn't want to be the nice girl."
Keeping up that act had been too exhausting.
She'd been tamping down all those dark emotions, burying them deep inside.
Ian had punched a hole straight through all of it.
And then everything had burst out.
Every last feeling, all aimed straight at him — even emotions he'd never been responsible for in the first place.
And during all of that, she'd listened to the whisper.
This was the result.
She'd lost her reason to her hatred for Ian.
The whisper had seized control of her body, and now she was probably about to die.
"Ah......."
In the end, Ian was just the first button that got buttoned wrong.
If only, back when he'd first confessed to her,
— I'm really grateful for all this, but I can't accept your feelings.
If she had just been a little more honest and said that, maybe things would have been different.
She had been a coward.
She had needed the supplies Ian gave her. She had needed the lunch boxes. She had needed him taking care of her.
So she'd never said the words aloud and instead just let them pile up silently inside.
That pile-up became a small hole in her heart, and through that hole, all the ugly feelings she'd never expressed came pouring out.
Even if she really did dislike Ian.
The way she'd taken it all out on him — that had been too much.
"When you get down to it......."
She finally understood.
In the end, Ian Blackangus had been a kinder person than she was. Maybe that's why he'd seemed like an easy target. That was why she'd gone and vented all her anger onto him.
— Wake up, Rina Rosewell.
Ian's voice reached her, faint and distant.
Was it a voice from outside her consciousness?
Suddenly, a tear slid down Rina's cheek.
"...I want to live."
I don't want to die like this.
I want to go back out there. I want to be more honest from now on.
And first... I want to tell you, Ian.
"......That I'm sorry."
For taking all the care you gave me for granted.
For singling you out to ignore, amid all those other people.
For unconsciously hating only you, lashing out only at you.
I'm sorry.
I know excuses won't help — that I suddenly lost my mind, or I've been hearing strange voices, or something must have gone wrong.
Because in the end, all of that just amplified what was already inside me.
"...Because I'm a garbage person."
A fool who let herself be swept along by others, just pretending to be nice.
And then, like trash, turned around and took all that frustration out on you — the one person who was genuinely kind.
I'm not just some perfectly nice girl.
I've always wanted someone to see that.
For someone to scold me for being this way.
To set me straight.
To call me out, firmly and decisively.
For that reason.
"I wish I didn't have to be the nice, clueless fool all the time."
I know now. So I want to apologize.
Desperately.
"...I'm sorry, Ian. I'm so sorry."
And I should be punished, too.
Because I'm not the nice Rina Rosewell anymore.
"...Hurry up and punish me."
I've done awful things, so I deserve a punishment just as painful.
.......
Tears streamed from Rina's eyes.
"Please, just save me this once."
And once again, she leaned entirely on Ian.
Shamelessly so — she disgusted even herself with how brazen she was being.
But maybe that desperate prayer reached him.
As though a ray of light were descending into the deep sea, her surroundings began to brighten.
As if she were being reeled in by a hook,
Rina's consciousness slowly surfaced.