Chapter 101: Goodbye First Love.

The smell of ink, the scratching sound of the pen nib, the shadows cast by stacked sheets of paper.

It was less silence than a space where the air itself had frozen still.

Mindlessly repeating the same tasks over and over.

The occasional voice that broke through was little more than a low grunt—far short of a true monologue. There was no conversation.

Just the two of them, working at a distance so great they could scarcely make out each other’s expressions.

Once, they had loved and been loved by one another.

And now—what exactly was the relationship between the current Violet and Claudia?

It was after school hours.

As usual, Violet had lingered on campus to stretch out the time before going home.

By sheer chance Claudia spotted her, and that was how the present situation came to be.

Claudia sat at the president’s desk in the study room.

Violet, meanwhile, had commandeered the sofa and table originally meant for receiving guests, and was now completely absorbed in sorting documents.

Mirania—who should normally have been here—was away on other business, and the other members had yet to be decided.

Apparently the two of them had grown accustomed to running things alone like this, but a situation where time, workload, and number of people refused to balance could not be solved by mere habit.

So when Claudia—perhaps for the umpteenth time—invited Violet to help, and Violet accepted without particular objection, it seemed they had finally arranged things so today’s portion of work could actually be finished.

Ever since a little while ago, Claudia had been glaring at the bundle of papers with deep creases between his brows; fatigue was etched heavily across his face.

“Claudia-sama, shall we take a short break?”

“Are you tired? I can call someone……”

“Not me. You, Claudia-sama.”

Violet rose, cutting off Claudia just as he glanced briefly in her direction and reached for the bell.

The one who needed rest in this room was not the mere helper, but Claudia himself, who looked on the verge of being crushed beneath the sheer volume of work.

Given his personality, he was probably thinking something like “rest before the work is finished is unthinkable,” but it was precisely when one was exhausted that making correct judgments became most difficult.

Sometimes it was better to look away for a moment and let the eyes rest, rather than grinding oneself down.

“At this rate you’ll only have to spend extra time reviewing later—it’s inefficient. Please calm down for a while. If possible, even take a short nap.”

She turned back toward Claudia—who seemed to need time just to process her words—after stepping outside briefly to ask the attendant on standby to bring warm drinks and something sweet that could be eaten with one hand.

Claudia’s eyes had gone perfectly round; he looked genuinely startled by both her actions and her words.

The unguarded expression he wore when caught off guard strongly reminded her of Yuran.

（……Yuran, huh.）

In truth, it was Yuran who resembled Claudia.

A tiny, trivial point of similarity that probably no one else had ever noticed.

The Violet of before would never have seen anyone else in Claudia.

Conversely, she would have searched for fragments of Claudia inside Yuran, overlaying them, letting her feelings grow deeper.

Even though she knew—better than anyone—how foolish and meaningless it was to superimpose one person onto another in search of an afterimage.

No matter where she was, she would search.

No matter who she was with, she would remember.

Because it was seared into her. Because it had taken root so deeply it would never come loose.

The love that existed inside her as naturally as breathing always burned warmly, feverishly.

Her eyes, her ears, her nose—every sense had always been waiting, yearning for that person.

Back when she loved Claudia, Violet’s heart had been scorched black, on the verge of crumbling entirely.

She had mistaken overpowering ambition and greed for love, pouring oil on the flames even as they raged, convinced that if she kept burning herself—and burning the other person—until nothing was left, then at the very end a happy romantic conclusion awaited.

“……I’ll rest. A little.”

When the tea-time set was brought in, Claudia—apparently resigned—finally rose with heavy movements.

He sank into the sofa opposite the one Violet had been using earlier, then awkwardly averted his gaze.

He was always so dignified, carrying both the responsibility and pride of being a prince, yet in moments like this he could be surprisingly childish.

“…………”

He brought the warm cup to his lips, then slowly exhaled.

He must have been far more exhausted than even he himself realized; once the tension left his shoulders, he would surely feel at least a little better.

The crease between his brows had softened compared to earlier, and Violet finally allowed herself to moisten her own throat in relief.

To be able to spend such a calm tea time together with him—something she had only ever seen in dreams before.

She had wanted it so badly her hands might have reached out from her throat to grasp it, yet on the actual day it arrived, the scenery visible around her had changed so completely.

The Violet who had been obsessed with her love for him could never have seen this view.

She had rushed forward blindly, trampling every other possibility in her path.

The one who changed was Violet.

The person before her remained exactly as he had always been—his way of thinking, the various desires he had cast aside, even wishing during this one year to be able to become a shadow.

If this change was the result she herself had brought about……

Then surely, the Violet of that day had also possessed the potential to reach a day like this.

Only now could she look back.

Only now could she finally begin to accept the things she had desperately averted her eyes from, the time she had never wanted to remember.

The moment she became aware of her feelings for Yuran, she also became aware—for the first time—of the people she had never seen.

“Claudia-sama.”

“……Hm?”

“Until now…… I caused you a great deal of trouble. I’m truly, deeply sorry.”

Setting the cup down, she slowly bowed her head.

Considering everything she had done, she should have offered a sincere apology much sooner.

Yet right up until this very day, Violet had been unable to properly face her own sins.

Even now she probably didn’t think that everything was entirely her fault.

She couldn’t deny that she had viewed herself—the self who knew no other way—as something like a victim.

Even now she surely still thought of herself as pitiful, and had merely given up on an environment that refused to change.

From the moment she was born into that house, she had probably never truly intended to reflect properly on her past sins.

In one corner of her heart, the dying embers of “It’s all your fault” continued to smolder, never quite extinguished.

But when it came to her actions toward Claudia, Violet believed that the sin was hers.

Claudia, who had been the object of her feelings in those days, bore no fault.

It was only natural to reject feelings that could not be accepted.

Violet’s behavior had been nothing more than persistent, underhanded struggling.

No matter how much Violet had suffered, no matter how painful her background and environment had been—to hurl all of that at an unrelated third party was, no matter what excuses were attached, simply lashing out and causing trouble.

She had averted her eyes, pretended to give up, and refused to re-recognize the ugliness inside herself.

She hadn’t wanted to realize that even after becoming a sinner she would still insist she wasn’t bad.

She hadn’t wanted anyone—hadn’t wanted even herself—to know that she was the kind of person who would think everything that led her into that prison cell was someone else’s fault, that she had only committed crimes as a result.

Even without saying anything, no one would reproach her.

The only one who knew about those days was Violet herself.

Claudia didn’t even remember the true sins of the real Violet.

Even so, she had wanted to say it.

It was mere self-satisfaction.

Not for Claudia’s sake, but purely for her own.

She had to properly bring it to an end. She had to face it.

Otherwise she would remain forever trapped inside that prison cell, unable to move forward.

In a world where she could live and die alone, she could no longer simply live.

She could no longer be satisfied with giving up, drifting along, and merely waiting for the end.

Because there was someone whose hand she wanted to hold.

Someone she wanted to be together with.

Someone she wanted to be allowed to love and live for—even if that love would never be rewarded.

She had decided to draw the curtain on that first love—the one that had made no one happy.