Chapter 24: Contrasting Similarities.

Lunch break ended up being mostly wasted.
Though Violette managed to eat with Yuran, the portion was barely more than a dessert.
She doesn’t mind—time was lost due to her own choices, and her appetite is modest anyway.
But for Yuran, it’s different.
Waiting for her cut into his time, and expecting someone with his physique to be satisfied with so little is unfair.
She hopes he could focus on afternoon classes…
By the time she’s thinking this, the school day has ended, and she wants to praise herself for taking thorough notes.

‘Is he free now…?’

While packing her notebooks and textbooks, she thinks of Yuran—or rather, his stomach.
If he’s hungry, she’d like to treat him to something, but she doesn’t know his plans.
She should’ve asked before lunch ended, but the idea only struck her during class.
Yuran is bright, gentle, and as good at being spoiled as he is at being caring.
He likely has many friends.
The thought of taking up his after-school time makes her feel a bit guilty.

‘I’ll check his classroom…’

Her thoughts narrow as she considers it.
Yuran’s classroom is on the first-year floor, where Maryjune’s presence looms large.
Going there as Violette, a second-year with a reputation steeped in rumors, feels like dropping a lit match into oil.
The gossip has mostly died down among second-years, but where the source—Maryjune—is, it could flare up again.
Even if they’re in different classes, Violette, unable to teleport, must navigate the halls.

“…If it turns into a scene, I’ll leave immediately.”

Not going isn’t an option, but neither is charging in recklessly.
Planning an escape route shouldn’t invite too much trouble.

“Lady Violette, goodbye.”

“Yes, goodbye.”

She returns a classmate’s farewell at the classroom door and leaves.

—

A year and some months into high school, the sprawling campus remains unchanged from middle school.
It’s so vast that, even after over a year, there are classrooms she’s never visited.
Y deletion’s class is one of them.
Of course, she’s been to first-year classrooms as a first-year herself, but Yuran’s is different.
The oversized academy makes even neighboring classes feel distant, with oversized rooms and hallways to match.
And there’s another first.
Since attending the same school, Violette has never visited Yuran’s classroom.

‘…Maybe I relied on him too much.’

In middle school, Yuran came to her daily, so she never needed to seek him out.
Realizing now how much she leaned on that, she feels a pang of regret.
Still, a senior, a duke’s daughter, and a figure of rumors visiting his class doesn’t bode well.
She’d prefer to avoid Maryjune in this sanctuary of a school.
It’s only because it’s after school that she musters the courage, but under normal circumstances, the idea would be crushed.
Even now, despite her resolve, her steps are slow, passing countless students heading home.
Her futile hope to reduce the classroom’s crowd is painfully obvious.

“…I’m here.”

There’s a limit to stalling, though.
Her pace was slower than usual, but Yuran’s classroom looms before her.
Peering through the open door, she sees only a few lingering figures.
She’s relieved the crowd has thinned, but the tall figure she seeks is absent.

“Did he leave…?”

Straightening from her forward lean, a murmur escapes.
It makes sense—fewer people mean a higher chance Yuran’s gone home.
The words she tossed at him during lunch, about not having plans, come back to haunt her now.

“Got a visitor?”

“…!”

Just as she turns to leave, resigned, a voice calls from behind.
She expected to be noticed by someone inside, not caught off guard like this.
Without thinking, she spins around reflexively.
Her eyes are drawn to tan skin, rare in a country of pale complexions unaccustomed to sun.
It’s her first time seeing it up close, but it feels less jarring than expected, radiating health.
Bouncy silver hair and large, round eyes scream “cute,” but the rolled-up sleeves reveal arms twice as thick as hers.
Compared to Yuran, he seems short, but he’s still taller than Violette.
In an academy full of refined students, he feels… ordinary, yet vibrantly energetic.

“Got business with our class? Or looking for someone?”

“Uh, yes…”

As expected from his appearance, he’s the type with no concept of shyness.
There’s no hint of ulterior motives, so she doesn’t need to be wary, but his rapid approach makes her instinctually want to retreat.
Still, since he’s talking to her, she might as well ask.
Yuran’s not in the classroom, but whether he’s gone home or just absent is unclear.

“I was looking for Yuran Kugurus… Has he already left?”

“Yuran?”

His expression shifts to surprise, more than curiosity, at the name.
After a brief pause, his gaze wandering as if piecing something together, he speaks.

“Are you… Violette?”

“What…?”

Her name, called out of nowhere, prompts a question mark before a nod.
She’s certain this is their first meeting—she wouldn’t forget someone so distinctive.
Oblivious to her confusion, the boy nods repeatedly, satisfied.

“Just like he described… No wonder he’s so protective.”

“Um… have we met before?”

“Nah, sorry. Hearing your name out of the blue must be weird.”

“I wouldn’t say that…”

His hearty laugh reminds her of the sun, but differently from Yuran.
If Yuran is a warm spring day, this boy is a blazing summer sun—almost scorching, yet oddly endearing.

“I’m Gia Fault. First time meeting you.”

“Violette Rem Varhan. You seem to know me already.”

“Yuran talks about you a lot. First time meeting, but you’re practically a friend to me.”

“Yuran…?”

“We’ve been buddies since middle school.”

It’s an odd thing to say, but her first thought is surprise.
Both Yuran and Gia surely have many friends, but their vibes are polar opposites—different types entirely.
Yet they’re friends, and from Gia’s tone, close ones for some time.
Violette, unfamiliar with friendship—especially between boys—finds it hard to grasp.
But knowing her dear childhood friend has a compatible companion is reassuring.

“He shouldn’t have left yet, but he’s not here?”

“Not in the classroom, it seems.”

“Maybe he got roped into something… He’ll probably be back. Wanna wait?”

“No, that’s alright. We didn’t have plans, so I’ll head out.”

His kindness is appreciated, but waiting here feels nerve-wracking.
With no guarantee Maryjune has left and no set time for Yuran’s return, it’s too risky.
This is her fault for not making plans.

“Can I leave a message?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“I’m sorry about today. I’ll make it up to him… Can you pass that on?”

“Got it! I’ll make sure he hears it.”

“Thank you.”

It’s a shame she couldn’t fill his likely empty stomach today.
But meeting his friend was a silver lining.
Yuran, who once clung to her side as a child and visited her constantly after starting school, has found true friends.
Knowing his likable nature and imagining he’d make friends was one thing—seeing it in person is another.
She’s glad he didn’t end up like her, especially since she knows her influence shaped him.
Her precious “little brother” has friends.
He still visits her often, but someday that might fade.
Once her closest childhood friend, he may graduate to a more distant role in the near future.
It’s a bit lonely to imagine, but if his circle of important people grows, isn’t that wonderful?

She could go home in a rare good mood—except she jinxed it.
“Home by the end of the field trip” is a fitting saying; she shouldn’t have let her guard down until passing the school gate.

“Violette.”

“Prince Claudia…”

“Can I have a moment of your time?”

The entrance she was about to slip through recedes.
Unable to dismiss Claudia’s serious expression, she pivots, already guessing where this is headed.