Chapter 41: You don’t lie.

As time passed, the lively lunch gradually drew to a close.
The bell hadn’t rung yet, but many had already finished eating; some left the cafeteria, others lingered in post-meal chatter.
Today, as usual, Violet belonged to the former group.

If it had been just her and Yulan, they might have lingered a little longer, but with this group, the conversation couldn’t last, or rather, the atmosphere had turned sour.

The first to finish was Yulan. Not long after, Violet drained the last of her tea.

“Thank you for the meal?”

“Yes, thank you. You were right, it was delicious.”

“Good. Shall we go, then?”

“Eh…?”

He waited until the empty cup left her fingers, then tilted his head and asked.
She thought he just wanted to hear her opinion on the dessert he’d recommended, but the satisfied look vanished in an instant. With a light, escort-like lift of his fingertips, he prompted her to stand.

Still not quite grasping his intentions, Violet blinked blankly. Yulan deepened his smile and glanced at Gear, who was still eating.

“Gear, we’re heading out first.”

“Mmmph—”

“Don’t be late.”

Gear’s cheeks were puffed out like a squirrel’s. The two mountains of bread had become one, considerably smaller now, but considering the remaining time, it still looked tight.
Forgetting that her hand had been suddenly seized, Violet couldn’t help worrying whether he’d be all right.

Yulan, clearly used to this, gave only a token warning; there wasn’t enough urgency to actually hurry him.
Was it because Gear always made it on time in the end, or had Yulan simply given up? Violet couldn’t tell.

Her drifting thoughts were tugged back by the fingers gently leading her.

“Well then… excuse us.”

“W-wait… um, please excuse me…!”

The glance Yulan flicked toward Claudia held not a trace of friendliness; he knew that better than anyone.
The eyes that usually gave a soft impression were completely cold; the slight upward curve of his mouth made a robot look warmer by comparison.

The grip wasn’t strong, yet it was the kind of hold that left no room for shaking him off. She managed a small bow just before leaving; she hoped it counted as barely polite.

His steps were brisk and unwavering, a little faster than usual.
Yet she never felt she’d be left behind; perhaps because he’d perfectly matched his stride to hers. Fast pace, slow progress; long legs moving carefully.

Their only connection was the light touch of fingertips.
Watching his soft hair sway, she followed without knowing where they were going.
If she asked, he probably wouldn’t answer anyway.
He probably didn’t even have a destination.

He just walked until a suitable spot caught his eye and stopped.

They arrived at a small courtyard along the path back to the classrooms.
There were many places called “courtyards” on campus, but this one wasn’t the large flower-filled expanse; it was more modest, yet large enough for a beautiful stone fountain.
At this hour there were few people; just a handful of shadows chatting briefly before returning to class.

Like them, they sat on one of the benches.
The sound of water striking stone filled the space; no one would overhear them here. A natural soundproof room.

The fingers that had stayed linked finally relaxed, and she felt the tension leave his shoulders a little.

“…Feeling calmer now?”

“I wasn’t exactly un-calm, you know?”

“True. Some people commit strange acts with perfect composure.”

“Ahaha, sorry.”

“This isn’t funny.”

His brows drooped in a sheepish smile; there was no trace of the hard, icy demeanor from moments ago.
Still, he wasn’t reflecting on his actions; he only felt bad for bewildering her. Violet knew that perfectly well. They hadn’t been childhood friends for nothing.

She’d worried countless times, past and present, whether she should try to correct him at least a little.
She understood the reasons behind his behavior, so she hesitated to let outsiders interfere carelessly, and more than anything, anything she said might boomerang spectacularly back at her with increased force.

“Sorry for dragging you into it.”

“…I was the one who dragged you in first.”

She had chosen that table knowing Claudia would be there.
She knew Yulan had deliberately inserted himself between them out of concern for her.
Otherwise he would never have approached; he would have avoided the situation more skillfully or endured it better.
He had more than enough experience and technique for that.

She was fully aware how precarious her current position was.
She also understood what Yulan feared.
And all of it stemmed from seeds she herself had sown.

She felt guilt, though not quite sin, for actions that had bred distrust.
Just because the past year’s mistakes had been wiped clean didn’t mean everything she needed to reflect on fit neatly within that frame.

She had no intention of asking to be forgiven so easily now, nor of confronting Claudia directly and fanning further suspicion.

This was something only Violet should bear and atone for in silence.

“Don’t make that face. If you’re going to repent, do it to His Highness Claudia.”

“I feel zero repentance or regret toward him.”

“Even if you think it, don’t say it out loud.”

She let out a sigh, shoulders slumping with it.
There was no point rehashing Yulan and Claudia’s poor compatibility now, but the fact that it hadn’t faded with time, nor settled into a cold war, but actually worsened; she still thought about it constantly.

She didn’t expect them to become friends; that was never something that could be forced.
Yet it still felt strange that Yulan, who fundamentally disinclined to start fights, bared his fangs so openly.

Was there something between them she didn’t know?

“…………”

“What’s wrong?”

“…No, it’s nothing.”

Even if she asked, Yulan wouldn’t answer honestly.
He was usually straightforward, but the moment Claudia was involved he turned stubbornly childish; she knew that from experience.

And above all, even if she learned the truth, what could she possibly do about it?

“Just… don’t do anything reckless, okay?”

“…Thanks.”

Yulan narrowed his eyes, looking genuinely happy;
but he never actually nodded.