Chapter 85: The Beautiful Things That Have Happened Until Now.

“Violet-sama eats very little, doesn’t she?”

“Is that so? I think I eat quite a lot of dessert, though.”

The moment the two of them sat down in the dining hall for lunch, the air froze for a second.
The reason was obvious: two girls famous for completely opposite reasons were together.

The stares were painful.
It was a mutual, unspoken decision to take a table at the very edge. They had both noticed the eyes on them, so they naturally drifted to the corner.

What the people around them thought of the two sitting face-to-face could be guessed from the whispers and suspicious glances; it wasn’t a favorable interpretation.
Most likely, the distrust was directed primarily at Violet.
She no longer cared, but Rosette seemed bothered.
She was wearing an exaggerated smile, bright enough for anyone to see she was having fun.

“Rosette-sama, are you the type who doesn’t like sweets very much?”

Unlike Violet’s mountain of dessert plates, Rosette’s lunch contained none.
Being extreme in the sweets direction was rare, but skipping dessert entirely was also unusual.

“I don’t dislike them… I just prefer bitter flavors.”

Both lowered their voices slightly; because it was a fact that didn’t fit Rosette’s image.

They were similar, yet not.
Rosette’s true self was closer to the image forced upon Violet.
If only their appearances had been reversed, things might have been easier in many ways.
Of course, new problems would have arisen, but it was nothing more than wishful thinking.

“Violet-sama loves sweets, then.”

“Yes. On the other hand, I absolutely can’t handle bitter things.”

“Some of those bitter things are actually delicious, though…”

“I used to think I’d be able to drink black coffee once I grew up.”

“I completely understand. When we’re little, we believe things without any basis.”

“I admired it even though I hated it. Ordering black coffee at cafés and such.”

“Any chance of that dream coming true?”

“Not at all.”

They met each other’s eyes and laughed softly.
In that moment, the clamor of the dining hall seemed to fade.
Curious stares were directed at them, but no one could disturb the space inside their small round table.
No one even thought of intruding.
There was something about that perfect little world that made even the onlookers themselves feel they would never forgive an outsider; not even themselves; entering it.

“But it really depends on the shop. There might be a black coffee out there that Violet-sama could drink.”

“Is that how it works…? I don’t really go to those kinds of places.”

(Because Yulan was always the one who told me about them.)

Only after the failed imprisonment incident had she openly admitted to loving sweets.
Before that, she had been even more careful than Rosette not to break the image others held of her.
She had acted strong, noble, beautiful.
At some point that had been twisted into being seen as overbearing and arrogant.

If people wanted Violet to drink black coffee instead of sweets, she had smiled and pretended to enjoy the bitterness spreading across her tongue.

(Yulan used to secretly give me chocolate or marshmallows.)

At parties, when she was forcing down food she didn’t like to match those around her, he would slip her sweets before she reached her limit.
Whenever she fled to an empty place out of exhaustion, he always found her and handed over a bag full of candy.

His smile on those occasions had always looked somehow sad. It wasn’t her imagination.

(I was making him worry.)

Only now did she realize.
Only now did she notice.
Perhaps because of the possessiveness tightening around her throat.

She knew she should stay away,
yet she only wanted to be closer.

She had wanted to repay him.
But that wasn’t enough anymore.
She wanted to return the favor, yet even that felt far too small for these feelings.

She knew Yulan’s good qualities better than anyone.
He could make anyone happy.
He had become such a wonderful person.

She wanted to watch that from his side.
She wanted to be beside him, closest to him, smiling together, seeing him smile.

The person Yulan made happy;
she wanted that person to be herself.

The person Yulan loved;
she wanted that person to be her.

“—Eh?”

Clang.

The fork slipped from her hand and struck the table with a sharp, high-pitched sound.

“V-Violet-sama…! Are you all right?”

“S-sorry… I’m fine.”

Rosette hurriedly called a server to bring a new fork.
Violet saw her worried expression, heard her concerned voice, and managed to answer.

But inside her head, something entirely different was swirling.

Heat rose to her cheeks without permission; a film of tears coated her eyes.
Right now, she must look pitifully close to crying.
Her lowered face was hidden behind the hair spilling over her shoulders.

She pressed trembling lips together, desperately trying to keep the feelings from overflowing, from becoming sound.

Within her narrow field of vision, she frantically thought.

(Just now, I—)

What had she just thought?

(I love Yulan.)

In that instant,
something inside Violet that had been frozen solid for so long cracked with an audible sound.