Chapter 75: Idol admiration.

I first felt something out of place when I began talking with other girls instead of staying glued to my brothers.

Cute dresses, accessories; I wore whatever I was told to, yet none of it ever truly interested me.
While girls my age happily complimented each other’s gowns, I could only give vague smiles, unable to fit in.
I did think the layers of frills and ribbons were lovely.
But wearing them felt restrictive; I didn’t like it.
I could look, but my hands never reached out.
In the end, I could never find any meaning in dressing up beyond obligation.

Girls like cute things.
Girls dislike insects and reptiles.
They find flower fields in full bloom beautiful and do not stare in fascination at vividly colored poisonous mushrooms.
No matter how pure the gemstone, they do not wish to wear it unpolished.

The more I learned what a “girl” was, what a “dream princess” was supposed to be, the further I drifted from it.

Fortunately, my appearance alone was close enough to everyone’s ideal princess that imitating the role was easy.
I simply, slowly, over time, grew apart from the Rosette that existed in others’ minds.
I never felt sad about it.
Before sadness could take root, I had already accepted it as inevitable.

Yet before I knew it, the need for a Rosette who was not the ideal had begun floating in limbo.

Even after realizing it, I couldn’t stop.
I didn’t try to change.
I never even wanted to.

Hiding felt stifling, and being found out was frightening, but I never once thought of letting go.

So deep down, somewhere, I always knew a day like this would come.

×　×　×　×

The package that arrived that day contained, under the pretext of “a gift from my brothers,” the very thing I had asked for.
Something difficult to obtain at this academy.
Even if it existed, I would never have dared touch it.
Owning illustrated guides not only to reptiles but to insects and poisonous plants as well was far too removed from the ideal princess.
No one could justify it as “for studying.”

Yet I couldn’t help being interested.
My hand reached out on its own, my eyes drawn without effort.
Resisting was pointless.
Fortunately, the only two people who knew; my brothers; accepted it completely.
That alone was enough to dispel any illusion that I was wrong.

It’s fine, I could think casually.
I had thrown away the guilt of hiding years ago.

This is who Rosette is, I could declare proudly, at least inside my own heart.
In my private world, I could follow my heart more freely than anyone.

Realizing it was all bravado always came one step too late.

“Eh…”

I had been certain no one was there.
In fact, I had never once seen another soul in that spot.

Dim, smelling more of earth and leaves than flowers, it was my favorite place.
No one ever came near, and sometimes I could even observe tiny intruders.
The perfect spot.

And she was sitting there.

Like scattered jewels beneath a cloudy sky, her presence was vivid even in the shadows.
Unconsciously I felt: this is her territory.
No matter the location, no one would ever say she didn’t belong.

It wasn’t that she blended in.
The surroundings bent to accommodate her.

Even her startled expression was beautiful.

“V-Violet…-sama.”

Everyone knows that name.
Everyone’s gaze is stolen by that figure.
They are drawn to her and simultaneously push her away.
They want to appear in her sight, yet at the same time they fear her, tremble, and freeze.

I had spoken to her only a handful of times, but I knew every rumor and impression that swirled around her.
Even if they only skimmed the surface, to most people they were truth.

I, who knew not a single fact, had seen reality inside that illusion as well.

A moment of fear.
When she realized it had been conveyed, she panicked and misunderstood.
Yes, the person at the source of the fear was indeed Violet, but the reason was not her.

Panic creates openings.
Instant weaknesses.
A momentary lapse in priorities, an illusion.

“…An illustrated guide?”

And I fell straight into that illusion only after the result was already decided.
I learned the hard way that regret always comes after.

I was terrified, horrified, desperate not to be rejected.
Just imagining her beautiful lips twisting in disappointment made my body stiffen.
I saw futures in which she tore my truth to pieces.

Only to realize every image in my mind had been nothing but delusion.

“What you’re drawn to is your freedom.”

That was surely not consolation or anything of the sort.
If anything, it was indifference; proof that I wasn’t even worth dreaming an ideal of in her eyes.

Her gaze and her attention slipped away from me.
The fact that I did not appear in her world stirred something deep inside my chest.
I couldn’t tear my eyes from her retreating back, praying she would look over her shoulder once more.
An overwhelming wish.

The panic I felt now was the complete opposite of moments ago, yet it had always been by my side.
It had clung to me all this time, and eventually made me give up.
A gravity so familiar I had even forgotten to find it annoying.

I was powerfully, irresistibly drawn to her.
I hesitated to reach out, yet simply wanted to draw closer.
I had superimposed a dream, a phantom, something that wasn’t real, onto her back.

And in that moment, for the first time, I understood.

Ah, this is what “longing” feels like.