Chapter 34: It’s okay to sit down.

I had noticed the moment I stepped into the classroom that something was off.

Yesterday she had been so looking forward to this, yet the smile Violet gave me when she saw my face was not the one I had imagined and longed for.

She was never especially good at smiling to begin with, but when she was with me her expression always softened, just a little.
Not out of vanity; it was something I knew from long years of watching.

The slight downward tilt at the corners of her eyes, the wry smile that said “good grief,” the proud, haughty look she put on when she was pretending to be selfish for my sake; all of them were beautiful and dear to me, far better than the dignity she used to hide her heart.

The fools who surrounded Violet and judged her only by the mask she wore probably praised her as “magnificent.”
Those idiots deceived by mere gilding were laughably infuriating.
I agreed that she was magnificent, but the magnificence they saw was not even a tenth of her true worth.

I wanted Violet to always be smiling.

I wanted Violet to be happy.

And I wanted to be the one to make it happen.

That was why I had invited her today.

I didn’t want to send her back to that house, but right now I was powerless to stop it.
Someday I would tear Violet away from the Varhan family; I had sworn it.
Until then, I had to endure.

In my heart I wanted to run away with her, to crush the Varhan house by any dirty means necessary, to make everything that hurt her disappear from the world.

But even if she stopped being hurt, she would never be happy that way.
And I would never be able to make her happy.

Right now, all I could offer was a temporary reprieve.
I wanted to help her forget that prison, even if only a little.
And yes, selfishly, I wanted to plant memories of fun outings with me in a girl who had probably never experienced such a thing.

The Violet waiting in the classroom I burst into was wearing neither the smile I had pictured nor the wry one I had prepared for.

A smile that looked a little sad, a little pained, forced into shape to keep those feelings from spilling out.
She was “smiling” far more obviously than usual, yet there was no feeling behind it.
It was the same mask she wore in front of her father, at balls, for the young ladies who admired her.

To Violet, that mask was a boundary line: do not touch.

There was no need to carelessly prod a wound she had desperately bandaged and make her relive the pain.

So I smiled and played the usual little-brother role: cute, kind, gentle.

I thought if I could make her forget the wound instead of trying to heal it, that would be enough.

When Violet suddenly stopped walking, a sliver of unease stirred.

Was she feeling ill? Had her mind affected her body?

When she looked up, her face held not sickness but something like urgency.

“Tell me… What can I do for you, Yulan…?”

Those glossy, perfectly smooth eyes stared straight at me.
She had no idea that the moment I appeared in them was the happiest instant in the world for me.

Even if I told her my heart danced simply from being called by her name, she would only take it as a joke.
That was partly because of her lack of confidence, and partly because I had always hidden my feelings behind the shield of “childhood friend.”

What Violet could do for Yulan.

What Yulan wanted from Violet.

Not just today—I wanted to go everywhere with her.
Even simple shopping in town would be fine; a longer trip would be wonderful.
I wanted to dress her head to toe in things I chose.
I wanted to show this beautiful person off to the world, and at the same time lock her away where no one else could see.

I wanted to hold her hand as we walked, to wrap an arm around that slender waist, to hold her until she begged me to stop.
I wanted to pour all this endless love onto those pale, cool cheeks until they burned crimson.
I wanted every inch of her, from the ends of her hair to her toes, to be mine and mine alone.

I laid my hand over the one gripping her bag handle so tightly.
Despite the redness from pressure, her fingertips were cold, betraying her heart.

Was she nervous? Or anxious?

There was no need for anxiety.
If anything troubled her, I would remove it.
I wanted her to be free of worry at all times, comfortable in every moment.

I would never forgive anyone who harmed Violet.
Never.

But the fact that she was shaken because of me—that made me happy.
The thought that I occupied space in her mind was intoxicatingly sweet.

I forced down the grin that threatened to break free.
I couldn’t shed the cute-little-brother mask yet.

“Thank you, Vio-chan.”

Thank you for wanting to repay me, for caring about my feelings.

That kindness was all for my sake.
Not for Violet’s; for the sake of the me who loved Violet.
Everything was my ego, my desire to make her happy.

That was why there was only one thing Yulan wanted from Violet.

“You don’t have to do anything.
Just be there.
That’s all I need.”

A wordless “eh?” escaped as a breath; her slightly parted lips froze, looking impossibly soft.
She was shocked—this was unexpected.
Her perfectly round eyes made her look exactly like a startled cat.

“Stay with me forever.
Let me stay by your side.
Don’t go far away.”

“Yu…lan…”

“Don’t forget that I’m right here beside you.”

“……”

I knew long ago that when her face crumpled like this, she was desperately holding back tears.

She was too used to being alone; she feared someone staying close, and the moment I looked away she would instantly turn her back and vanish.
She herself probably didn’t even realize it—an instinct branded into her since childhood.

Being alone is lonely.
Love is frightening, yet she wants to be loved.
She wants to be left alone.
She wants someone to stay, yet believes no one ever will.

Violet’s heart was a whirlpool of contradictions.
She fears, she wishes, she gives up, and grinds herself down.

As long as she remains in that house, she will keep giving up.

So I have to overwrite it, again and again, every time it fades.

“Vio-chan, you’re not alone.”

I watched her bite her lip and gently covered her eyes with my palm.

Her eyelashes brushed my skin, and for some reason, it felt a little warm.