Delusion (4)
Delusion (4)
Time passed. Serepina never came back to talk about ending the engagement.
My days settled into a rhythm. Lectures at the appointed hours — I stared out the window while the professors' voices droned like lullabies, or traced meaningless doodles across my desk. At night, I returned to the dormitory. I walked the same corridors every day, moved between the same rooms, and somehow never once crossed paths with Serepina. It was almost deliberate, the way she seemed to avoid me.
I wished she would just get it over with and say the words.
Sometimes my feet carried me toward the chapel on their own.
Estelle was always there. Sitting on the steps to the second floor, or sprawled across a long bench staring vacantly at the ceiling, killing time. When I appeared, she would chatter away with genuine delight before sending me off looking thoroughly reluctant.
That was where I was coming from tonight.
She spotted me from a garden bench and waved.
The sunset caught her silver hair, staining it a pale rose.
I exhaled and walked over. No one else was around, at least. I didn't have to worry about being seen. We fell into step beside each other and headed toward the chapel.
"Wait here."
She said it the moment we stepped inside and bounded up the stairs with light, quick steps. She was back almost immediately, holding two ripe red apples in both hands.
"Here. Eat. Don't ask where they came from."
She handed me one. The other she rubbed briskly against the sleeve of her priestess's habit, then took a large bite. The crisp crunch echoed through the empty chapel.
"Mm, sweet. Go on, try it."
She spoke around the mouthful, cheeks bulging.
I looked down at the apple in my hand. Wondering if there might be blood on it, I gave it a perfunctory wipe against the hem of my uniform jacket.
Estelle kept talking whether I responded or not.
"It's strange when you think about it. I decided to start staying here, moved my things in, and literally the very next day you showed up."
She perched on the edge of the altar, swinging her legs.
"The moment I saw you, it was like... how do I describe it. My mind went completely blank. Like I was under a spell. Just... no thoughts at all. If you'd been in my place, you'd have thought the same thing, wouldn't you? That maybe I was some heretic, or a black mage using dark sorcery."
Instead of answering, I bit into the apple. Sweet juice flooded my mouth.
"Yeah. Sweet. It's good."
She stared at me for a beat at the blatant deflection, then burst out laughing — a soft, breathy puff of sound.
I took my evening meal at the chapel with her. She prattled on as always, recounting the trivial events of her day. I mostly listened.
"Anyway, what do you think about just staying here with me? In the chapel. There's an empty room I could clean up. The second floor's pretty cozy. It's a hassle coming all this way to visit, isn't it?"
She threw the question out as we walked back afterward.
"No."
I answered immediately.
"Why? Am I the problem?"
"No. I'm just more comfortable in my own room."
She pressed her lips shut after that. She looked a little sulky. I left her standing in front of the chapel and returned to the dormitory alone.
I no longer drifted through the hours like I used to. I had built something resembling a routine.
I attended every lecture during the day. At night, sleep or no sleep, I lay down in bed at a fixed hour and closed my eyes. I made myself try to sleep. Sometimes I slipped out of the dormitory in the middle of the night and swung a sword under the moonlight. My uncooperative body drew arcs that had nothing to do with my intentions. I buried myself in a corner of the library, thumbed through books on magic, and muttered spells under my breath, but only hollow sounds escaped my lips. The things that had to be built up from childhood through systematic training were nearly impossible to catch up on now.
Swordsmanship demanded a conditioned body. Magic demanded mana refined meticulously from a young age.
So I told myself I was just exercising. The point was to stay healthy, to move my body at night, treat it like a workout. After enough hours of movement, I could fall asleep even without drinking.
But the nights I didn't drink, the nightmares came without fail.
I hadn't drunk tonight.
So she came again.
Rineta's body hung from the ceiling, vivid before my eyes.
The sour, rancid stench — that particular reek of death — stung my nostrils. Yet I had the eerie illusion that her body still held some lingering, lukewarm warmth.
I walked up to her without reaction. I set the toppled chair upright, stepped onto it, and untied the rope around her neck. Then I didn't so much cradle her limp body as let it drop to the floor before managing to lift her onto the bed.
If I squeezed my eyes shut hard enough inside that tepid, nauseating sensation and stench, I would eventually wake from the dream.
My whole body was drenched in cold sweat. The feeling of breath choking up into my throat made me gasp for air as I staggered into the bathroom and doused myself with cold water. I stood under the spray and slammed my head against the wall several times — a dull, heavy thud with each impact.
After washing up, I would wander the academy's nighttime streets for hours, then sit on a random bench and smoke hand-rolled cigarettes until morning came.
During the day, I hid every trace of those nights and presented a composed face.
If I got close enough to people, familiar enough, they would decide there was nothing the disgraced exile from the family could do anymore. If I stayed by Estelle's side and simply avoided drawing attention, then — as I'd told Levina — maybe I could still manage something.
Today I sat through another tedious lecture and was walking down the corridor toward lunch.
At the far end of the hallway, Serepina was laughing and talking with her friends. Our eyes met. It was the first time in what felt like an eternity.
* * *
Serepina froze the instant her gaze locked with Ravin's.
She didn't know what to say. What expression to wear.
"Hey, isn't that... Ravin Edelgard?"
Her friend Elise tugged at her arm.
Serepina snapped back to awareness.
"Serepina? What's wrong? You look pale."
Elise watched Ravin walking slowly toward them from the end of the corridor and spoke with a note of barely contained excitement.
"Is it because of that thug? I heard you're finally breaking off the engagement?"
"...I'm not going to."
Serepina forced the words out.
"Just a few days ago you said you couldn't stand it anymore — that you were going crazy. Sera, he runs around with gangsters, his conduct is awful, and now he caused that disaster in the Forbidden Archive and got a student killed..."
"I know. I know, so stop, Elise."
Serepina bit her lip and answered with an edge of irritation. She understood her friend meant well. She just didn't want to hear it. If she let herself be swept along by what everyone around her said, something was going to go terribly wrong.
"From what I've heard, that man is about to be thrown out of his own family. Are you serious about this?"
"So I'll keep him with me. That solves it."
The words came out on impulse.
Elise looked at her and let out a long sigh.
"What you see in that pretty-faced delinquent, I'll never understand."
She murmured it under her breath and gave Serepina a light push on the back.
"Fine. Stop skulking around avoiding him like it's doing you any good, and go say something. We're heading to lunch first."
Her friends drifted away.
It felt as though Ravin and Serepina were the only two people left in the corridor.
He was drawing closer.
Serepina raised her hand awkwardly. She thought she should at least greet him.
Ravin walked straight past her.
She had expected the old reaction — a smile of welcome, a look of gratitude over a simple greeting. The sight of him walking by without even acknowledging her was far harder to accept than she had anticipated.
She stared blankly at his retreating back.
She couldn't let him go like this. She didn't know why. She only knew she had to act.
Before she understood what she was doing, she had followed him and caught hold of his sleeve.
His steps halted.
He turned around slowly.
The moment she saw his face, Serepina's breath stopped.
The man she hadn't seen in a long while did not look well at all. His bloodless face was beaded with cold sweat. His eyes were unfocused, the pupils drifting somewhere vague.
Instinctively, she reached out. She wanted to touch his cheek. She wanted to ask if he was okay.
His voice stopped her hand in midair.
"Rineta...?"
Only after he said the name did Ravin's blurred vision sharpen.
"...Ah. Serepina."
"Rineta — who is..."
Serepina started, then let the question trail off. Probably some woman's name. Someone he met outside. Now wasn't the time to press him. His condition didn't seem normal.
"Wait. Can we sit down somewhere and talk for a moment?"
Ravin wiped the cold sweat from his forehead with his sleeve and nodded.
They walked in silence and sat down side by side on a convenient bench along the path.
An awkward silence settled between them. Serepina had sat a little apart at first, but soon shifted herself closer.
"We haven't really talked in a while, I thought."
At her words, Ravin gazed at her with a distant expression. Then, faintly, a smile crossed his face — something that looked almost like relief.
He reached up and gently stroked her hair.
Under normal circumstances, she might have pulled away from that touch. Serepina was sure of it. But right now, for reasons she couldn't name, her heart ached so deeply that the words she had meant to say never left her lips. She just bit down on her lower lip, hard.