Chapter 102: Let’s end with “See you later”.

Was an ending truly supposed to be this quiet?

She had always imagined it would be far more painful, more agonizing—something heavier, more crushing still.

Something that could never become a beautiful memory. Something that would surely leave fragments of regret lodged in her heart forever, never to fade.

She had thought that the final moments between herself and Violet would leave both of them covered in blood, torn open with wounds.

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

When had she begun to find it beautiful—the way Violet looked straight at her like this?

When had she started searching for her figure while walking down the corridor?

When had seeing her made Claudia want to speak to her?

It wasn’t as though she had always been burning with longing.

It wasn’t the kind of feeling that clung relentlessly, impossible to shake from her mind.

If anything, in the past she had been far more unable to forget, always on guard.

And yet now she understood—clearly, painfully—that this was far more troublesome than before.

“I won’t ask you to forgive what I did. I have no right to say such a thing. But…… I promise you this: I will never trouble you again, Claudia-sama.”

Each word sank deep into the back of her mind.

The urge to not want to hear it, and the urge to not miss a single syllable—they were surely the same thing.

An alarm bell rang inside her: Don’t understand. Don’t let it in.

But when she looked into Violet’s eyes, she couldn’t stop it.

Deep in her chest, something tightened—softly, as though gently gripped.

A sweetly bitter sensation slowly ate away at her.

“I know my words aren’t worthy of trust. I’m not asking you to believe them. I only…… want you to know.”

She had said the same thing once before.

On the day she first invited Violet to this place—the day that only the two of them knew, the day that should be forgotten.

Even then, Violet had stood right before her eyes.

So many things had changed.

She should have felt Violet far closer now than when she had still been running away.

And yet, precisely because of that, the distance between them felt all the more distinct.

When she stopped feeling Violet’s affection directed toward her, what she gained first was relief.

Next came fondness for Violet as an intelligent, talented young woman.

She learned that the face Violet made when she smiled was cute.

She didn’t want to know.

She didn’t want to think about it.

And yet she understood.

Scattered along the path she had walked were countless triggers.

If she had never noticed, things would surely have been easier.

If she had noticed sooner, today would never have come.

But if Violet had remained in love with Claudia all this time……

Nothing would ever have begun.

“……I believe you.”

She had wanted a reason.

She had wanted an absolution.

No one had accused her of anything, and yet—if she had to name it—her own tiny pride had refused to honestly acknowledge as beautiful someone she had once found so irritating, so loathsome.

She had wanted as many justifications as possible.

For her eyes, her ears, her feet to turn toward Violet with legitimate cause.

The straightness of her posture when she stood.

The way the outer corners of her eyes dropped when she smiled.

The refined way she handled her utensils at meals.

The way her true thoughts so easily showed on her face.

The many things she had already given up.

The way she called just one person’s name in a voice completely at ease.

She had been given so many reasons.

And yet every single one of them only reminded her how worthless her own feelings were.

She had been told—only then did she realize—how narrow her vision and thoughts had been.

Would it have been better to push through?

To throw away pride, reputation, restraint—to act on nothing but her own heart?

If she had, would something have changed?

At the very least, would it not have ended without her ever managing to confess?

But that was impossible.

To do such a thing would mean she was no longer Claudia.

To hold pride, to heed the voice of public opinion, to create boundaries—these were both the privilege and the duty of one born into her position.

“I believe you. And I know. I already know…… that you are someone worthy of trust.”

Yes.

That was why this was surely the right ending.

No one and nothing would be destroyed.

The curtain would simply fall, quietly.

The desire to peer through the gap for just a little longer might be nothing more than stubborn attachment, the ugliness of lingering regret.

Why had she—why had Violet—not sooner, or later……?

Even amid the clamor of all that noise, a beautiful person remained beautiful forever.

“Ah…… Thank you.”

The smile that bloomed across her face.

Another memory layered on top.

No matter how many she accumulated from here on, these feelings would never gain any value.

And yet she found herself carefully wrapping each one, cherishing it.

What a laughable, pitiful conclusion.

The fate of a man who never once realized—not until everything he thought he held in his palm had slipped away entirely.

In a story, it would surely be branded a failure and discarded.

（——And yet）

The thing that had sprouted.

The flower that still refused to wither even now.

The beauty she had been allowed to know.

Not a single one of them felt worthless.

No matter how ridiculous, no matter how failed a work it might be—every single piece was precious. She understood that now.

It hurt. It was sad. It ached.

But she could swallow it all and still smile, and call it wonderful.

Not “I’m sorry.”

Not quite “Thank you,” either.

For the ending of the two of them—for the farewell known only to the two of them—the words that fit best were:

“……I’m glad it was you.”

——I’m glad that the first person I ever loved was you.