I Start with a Bad Hand!

“What are you both holding?” Irene couldn’t finish her sentence, panting heavily as she looked at me. Her gaze quickly shifted to the smoke rising from the herb in my hand. With a hardened expression, Irene dashed forward, not towards me but towards Hayden.

“Hayden Saturn. Are you out of your mind? Smoking herbs within the academy?”

“Irene.” Hayden gently stepped between me and Irene with a soft smile. Irene’s face twisted completely at the familiar tone.

“Don’t get worked up. You’re not usually this emotional.”

As he said this, Hayden glanced at me. “I didn’t force Dietrich, and she didn’t take it. Besides, this is just an herb. You can check it if you like. It’s a plant used as an herb in Sereti.”

He handed another rolled herb from his pocket, his eyes crinkling slightly. Irene didn’t take it, and the herb ended up slipping into my pocket. 

“I’ll be going. And…”

Hayden’s cool hand patted my shoulder, as if to comfort me. But there was a peculiar pressure in his touch. I turned to look at him, but he removed his hand from my shoulder as if nothing had happened.

‘…What’s that about?’

“Don’t be too harsh on your junior. She looks exhausted enough as it is. There’s no need for you to be so cold.”

“It’s none of your business,” Irene retorted.

“Is that so?”

With a thin laugh, Hayden walked away leisurely.

“I’ll see you. It was nice meeting you today.”

Leaving only the strange scent behind, Hayden departed from us. I hadn’t noticed it while he was here, but once he left, an awkward tension hung between Irene and me. The excitement from before was gone, replaced by Irene’s hardened expression.

“You need to… conduct yourself better, Dietrich.”

Everyone I faced seemed to comment on my conduct. Just how poorly behaved did they think I was? With those words, Irene gave a slight nod and turned to leave.

‘No!’

It was already so awkward; if I let it go, it would become irreversible with time. The depth of relationships doesn’t necessarily correspond to time. The same goes for drifting apart. I hurriedly followed her steps, speaking up.

“I have never thought of you as anything other than my friend, Irene.”

But her steps didn’t falter. Damn, maybe I spoke too softly. Desperately, I continued, even though she didn’t stop.

“How could I think otherwise? Cedric, I mean, the young master of Elexion, may be your fiancé, but I was your friend first.”

“…Relationships change over time. And it’s true that I’ve known Cedric longer than I’ve known you.”

“Cedric’s relationship with you may change, but ours doesn’t have to. And… maybe not in terms of the amount of time we’ve known each other, but I believe the depth and quality of our relationship are stronger. At least, I know about your pollen allergy, unlike him.”

“So?”

Only then did Irene stop walking. As I caught my breath, unable to continue speaking immediately, she asked with an indifferent expression, “So what does that have to do with you not telling me about it?”

A faint taste of blood lingered at the back of my throat. I took a deep breath and finally confessed, “Because I know you. That’s why.”

Irene unfolded her arms and looked at me expectantly, urging me to continue. Feeling a slight tickling sensation in my palms, I had no choice but to spill my thoughts.

“Because you’re that kind of person. Unlike me, who can pass things off without any principles, you’re someone who upholds what’s important. I didn’t want you to break your principles because of me. I didn’t even want to ask you to overlook it.”

But that’s also why I liked Irene.

“Of course, I admire that about you.”

Irene gazed at me with a somewhat ambiguous expression. She then crouched down beside me as I sat on the ground, too exhausted to stand. I wanted to get up, but the warmth from her shoulder pressed against mine was comforting, so I just adjusted my posture to continue talking for longer.

“Right after graduation, I’m going to marry the eldest son of Elexion. That’s what they want.”

Her expression showed no excitement or joy. She spoke as if she was listing off a task or exam she needed to complete the next day.

“So even though what I hoped and planned for since I was very young has gone awry, it doesn’t matter. Maybe I always knew it would turn out this way. If you belong to a family, you’re expected to contribute to its prosperity.”

“Irene,”

She shook her head as if to say it was fine.

“Being useful to someone is a good thing. It means they recognize my competence.”

She added briefly, her eyes sparkling differently from before. I felt a strange sense of triumph at knowing something about Irene that Cedric didn’t.

“But sometimes, it’s suffocating. When I’m defined not as myself but as part of the Horatius family. When I’m treated as a component of Horatius rather than an individual. It’s understandable, but…”

Irene took a deep breath then. Her shallow chest rose and fell slightly.

“It’s suffocating. It swells until I can’t bear it anymore, and then, all at once, a part of my mind feels like it shatters into pieces. The me I knew, the me I was, disintegrates without meaning, and others pick up the pieces they need and reassemble them.”

Her words made a part of my chest feel like it had been bruised with a dull thud. I pressed closer to Irene’s shoulder.

“So, I guess I was more sensitive towards you. You and Agnes… well. Even if I become part of Elexion, I hoped you would stay by my side. The things I leaned on and looked to might become meaningless.”

Irene confessed in a calm voice, the warmth from her shoulder still comforting. I looked down at my toes and murmured, “Even if I could go back, I still wouldn’t tell you.”

It felt like a declaration that slipped out unconsciously.

“Because I don’t want you to shatter into pieces. Then, and now, I hope you don’t lose any of those straight pieces of yourself. But I had to ask you a very difficult favor, one that went against your principles… I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t want to say it, even

if it meant risking our relationship falling apart.”

Irene, crouched beside me, seemed smaller than usual. People who molded themselves to fit others’ expectations gradually diminished in size.

“I like every single piece of you,” I said.

“All of them?” she asked.

“Well, some parts are a bit tough to deal with.” Like insisting we wake up at 4 AM for a meaningful life or marking questions on every line of my script and asking me to explain them. 

Irene let out a short laugh at my complaint, then composed herself and asked again, “Then why did you finally tell me now? Why not keep it a secret forever?”

“Uh… because you’re the most capable?”

“Don’t give me such flattery.”

“It’s not flattery, but… if you need another reason, it’s because you’re precise and dependable. When it comes to this, there’s no one I trust more.”

In summary… I don’t want anyone but you for this. After a brief silence, Irene responded.

“…I’ll help you.”

“What?”

“But explain everything in detail. Leave nothing out, so I can keep up.”

I slowly turned my head to look at her in disbelief. The Irene I knew had no soft spots. But perhaps people aren’t so easily broken down and explained piece by piece. Somehow, the combination of various pieces had unlocked something in Irene’s heart.

That day, we talked for a long, long time.

***

‘Why is the weather like this?’ I looked up at the hallway window. Despite it being midday, the sky was growing darker. It wasn’t just the shorter days; heavy clouds were covering the sky.

‘Is it going to snow? It’s not quite cold enough yet, so maybe rain?’ 

Just as winter approached, this was unusual.

With little interest, I turned my gaze from the window and slowly made my way back to my dormitory. The sound of my footsteps echoed eerily in the hallway. The corridor was low-ceilinged, and the smell of earth just before the rain seeped through the windows, filling the hallway.

As I approached my dormitory, I saw a figure leaning against the door. The hallway was dark, making it difficult to identify who it was from this distance. However, as I got closer, I recognized the distinctive profile.

Maybe I felt a bit glad. I quickened my pace slightly as I approached, and even in the shadows, I could see the gleam of his golden hair. Icarus slowly lifted his head to look at me as he heard my approach. His face, cast in shadows, wore an unreadable expression.

“Ah, good timing. I had something to tell you,” I started.

“I heard something unbelievable from the priest.”

The cold voice echoed in the quiet hallway. An uneasy feeling crept over me, and I slowed my steps.

“What does it mean that you don’t have a body to return to in your world?”

At his words, I stopped and met his gaze. Icarus’s face seemed to be both enduring something and trying to understand it at the same time.

As I resumed my steps towards him, I thought, ‘So the priest finally told him.’

Damn. I swallowed a short, bitter curse. I had hoped Icarus would remain unaware until the end. He was the only one who knew I was from another world, and I didn’t want him to know I had nowhere to return to.

Now I stood at the door of my dormitory where he had been leaning. We both remained silent as I stood beside him, just as he had done. I leaned against the door and thought, ‘What should I do?’

How could I convey my feelings to Icarus without hurting him, in a way he could accept? But once he found out, there was no way to avoid hurting him. Some decisions, even if unintended, could hurt others just by being made.

‘So isn’t it more important to handle the aftermath well?’

If my decision was going to hurt him, the best I could do was help him heal as quickly as possible. The words I needed to say were clear in that moment. I had the responsibility to alleviate his sorrow, even if it meant pretending to be heartless.

I had used his feelings to my advantage, so I had to act in a way that ensured he would no longer be swayed by me. I needed to make him withdraw the affection he had given me, to the point where he wouldn’t care about my existence or future.

In this world where souls could easily shatter, that seemed to be the best thing I could do.

“Icarus,” I began, my voice firm, “I didn’t want you to know because it’s a harsh reality. The truth is, I’m not from this world, and I don’t have a place to go back to.”

His eyes widened slightly, and I continued before he could respond.

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry or feel sorry for me. I need to resolve this on my own. You don’t need to be involved in my mess.”

“But Dietrich—”

“No, listen,” I interrupted. “You deserve better than to be dragged into my problems. I’ve relied on you too much already, and it’s not fair to you. From now on, I need to face this alone.”

He looked hurt, and I knew my words were having the intended effect, painful as it was.

“I don’t want you to wait for me or try to help. It’s better for both of us if you forget about me and focus on your own life.”

Tears glistened in his eyes, but he didn’t let them fall. I stepped back, putting more distance between us.

“This is goodbye, Icarus. Take care of yourself.”

I turned and walked away, leaving him standing there in the dark hallway. It was the hardest thing I had ever done, but in a world where souls could easily shatter, it was the only way to protect his.