Come to think of it, even someone like me—who seemed to have nothing in common with Elline—did share one thing with her.
We both liked walking.
The difference was that I loved looking at the sky, at the stars, while Elline simply enjoyed wandering. But in a way, I think that was exactly why neither of us ever complained about always going everywhere on foot.
"…"
The general studies lecture ended, and we walked out together.
That was ten minutes ago now, and we'd been walking in silence ever since.
Between the tall rows of roadside trees, a red sunset was bleeding across the sky, and we headed north as we always did—toward the quiet.
*…*
If what I used to feel back then was anxiety and the constant need to read the room—
now, looking at Elline, all I felt was worry.
Her expression had sunk somewhere deep, and her eyes looked vacant, as though her thoughts were somewhere else entirely.
Like someone who couldn't see what was in front of her—she was simply walking, guided only by the pull of my hand.
*'Tell me when you're not shaken.'*
Her words came back to me.
At the time, I'd thought she said it just to be considerate of me. But seeing her like this now, I was starting to understand what she'd really meant.
I didn't want to push her for an answer.
Just whenever she felt ready. Whenever she wanted to.
There was a faint restlessness in me—I couldn't help that—but that was mine to carry.
*If I can't even wait this long—*
I'd have no right to face Elline, who had waited for me.
We walked on for a few more minutes.
Once the tree-lined path ended, the northern district gradually came into view—a stretch of buildings that felt bleak and weathered.
Old structures washed in shades of red.
We walked between them.
"Rutess."
"Yeah?"
Elline finally broke the long silence.
"Were you worried?"
"…No, I'm fine."
A lie, of course.
I'd been worried sick. I'd never seen her look so drained before.
"You changed your scent."
I said it evenly, shifting the subject.
I'd been so focused on how listless she seemed that I hadn't noticed until now.
There were no flowers nearby, yet a faint, sweet fragrance had been drifting into my nose.
"How is it?"
"It suits you."
"…"
Elline didn't react much to that, but she reached up carefully and took a strand of her hair, bringing it close to breathe in the scent.
Then her fingers fidgeted, and she tightened her grip on my hand.
*A little better, maybe.*
I hoped so.
She didn't have to tell me anything. I just wanted her to feel at ease on her own.
"Oh."
Near the end of the stretch between the northern buildings, a gentle slope came into view.
From what I remembered, at the top was a hillside of wild grass and an outer boundary where a fence marked the edge of the academy grounds.
If we went up there, studying tonight was out of the question.
I said nothing.
I just wanted to leave the choice to her.
"Rutess."
"Yeah?"
"…I want to take today off."
Her words.
I nodded without a word.
And we climbed the slope together.
Like the Chirping Forest, there was no one else here on a Friday afternoon—only the two of us, our presence the only sign of life.
"Have you been up here before?"
"First time."
I nodded at her answer and kept climbing.
The trees, flushed red, cast long shadows across the ground.
Aside from our footsteps, everything was still.
No sound of a stream, no birdsong—just quiet.
Small stones scattered here and there stood like markers, as if to say: *it's all right to pass through.*
The hill, which I hadn't climbed in a long time, turned out to be quite long. And quite high.
When I glanced over, Elline's expression was as composed as ever—but a bead or two of sweat had formed on her skin.
Her breathing stayed even, though, so she wasn't tired.
*Good thing I used to climb mountains a lot as a kid.*
Playing with the village children always ended up with mountain climbing somehow. Kids from our village, kids from other villages.
Looking back, I was so young then that I didn't even know which estate each kid came from.
Childhood memories blur together like that.
Lost in those idle thoughts, I realized we'd nearly reached the top of the slope.
"Ha…"
Cresting the final rise, a vast expanse of wild grass spread out before us.
The view was—
well. It was beautiful, obviously.
The evening glow stretched wide beyond the horizon, and when I turned my head, the many buildings of the academy looked tiny, like miniature models.
When the wind blew, the grass rippled in waves.
"It's nice."
I hadn't felt this way the last time I came up here.
We looked around for a bit, then settled down wherever seemed right and sat.
Facing the cool breeze, we quietly took in the scenery, and I reached for her hand again.
"Rutess."
"Mm?"
"The person you met at the visitation hall—you said they were family, right?"
The visitation hall.
Where I'd met Elline's mother, Cleonoa. Where I'd said my last goodbye to Alfred.
"Mm… actually, not exactly family."
She'd let it go once before, but now that she was asking again, I didn't want to lie a second time.
"…Is that so?"
Elline's gaze, which had been fixed on the sunset, shifted to me.
"Someone more important to me than family."
"…"
I wondered how she interpreted that.
It was true—Alfred meant more to me than people who shared my blood but nothing else.
"Didn't your family come?"
"It's quite far, being out west and all."
I answered evenly, using the distance as a convenient excuse for why they hadn't come.
"The west…"
Elline paused, as if searching her memory.
"Rutess, your family is a knight house, isn't it."
A knight house.
"How did you know?"
Her words caught me off guard, and my eyes went wide.
Long ago, before magic became practical, it was the knights—those who carried swords—who were the main force protecting the empire from monsters and outsiders.
These days, the empire focused its strength in the north to guard against monster appearances and the northern tribes, but before the empire had fully unified the continent, various remnant forces had held out in the west.
Naturally, those who distinguished themselves in battle—or those with exceptional knightly qualities—began to emerge from the west.
As a result, most noble houses in the western territories traced their origins to knight lineages.
House Liperto was no different.
*Though now…*
With the continent long since unified, the west was considered the second most peaceful region after the south, and House Liperto had somewhere along the way turned to wheat fields and farming.
Whatever the reason, it was surprising that Elline knew that—though, thinking about it, it was the kind of information anyone with even a passing interest in history could find. Elline would have known it at a glance.
She continued, her tone unhurried.
"I went to the west briefly when I was young, and it came back to me."
"You came to the west?"
"The Family Head was a Court Mage at the time, and monsters suddenly started appearing in large numbers, so he was dispatched there. I went along."
I remembered.
The western region bordered the Holy Nation, and unlike the south—which enjoyed complete peace from monsters—the west still saw occasional outbreaks.
I remembered it too, from when I was young—a sudden surge of monsters that put the whole area under lockdown.
Not that anyone would have noticed if I'd snuck out anyway.
"Wasn't it dangerous?"
Given that Elline and I were the same age, she would have been quite young when that happened.
Whatever kind of person the Family Head of House Pailless was—a Court Mage who brought a child that young along on a deployment—he had to have nerves of steel.
"I don't remember it well. It was so long ago… and back then… everything was chaotic."
*Chaotic.*
That made sense. It was a time of lockdowns—people from other estates came to our village, and our people lived in other estates for a while.
"…I cried a lot back then."
"Really?"
I couldn't picture Elline crying at all.
"What, you don't believe me?"
"Honestly… no, not really."
At my words, Elline stared at me for a moment, then looked away.
"I received a letter from the Family Head today."
The sunset had shifted to violet by now, more than half the sun swallowed beneath the horizon.
After a long silence, Elline slowly opened her mouth.
"Rutess."
"Yeah."
"…I'm afraid of the Family Head."
The sun disappeared completely, and darkness settled in its place.
Even without her saying more, I thought I understood why.
There must have been a great deal that happened when she was young.
It might be a presumption on my part—but perhaps the reason Elline could endure such a punishing schedule was, in some way…
"Even now?… Yeah, I think so."
Elline spoke of herself quietly, evenly, her eyes holding something from the past.
When she tightened her grip on my hand, it wasn't trembling that traveled through—it was the resonance of her voice.
"Today too, I got the letter at lunch… and old memories came back, and I suppose that's why you saw me like that."
She glanced sideways at me.
"Strange, isn't it?"
"Not at all."
Immediately.
"…Really?"
"Yeah, not strange at all."
I looked up at the sky.
The violet had been deepening into black, and one by one, stars were beginning to appear.
"I cared a lot too."
When I was young.
Before I understood what they were really like—not knowing why I alone was left to myself—I did everything I could think of to get their attention.
I fell down the stairs on purpose. I deliberately caught a cold in the dead of winter. I went days without eating.
But nothing came back.
They only ever noticed me when I did something wrong.
"Now… well, not anymore."
Something I'd long since grown used to.
I didn't want to think about why they were the way they were.
When I showed them I could do magic, they took notice for the first time and sent me to the academy.
In exchange for magic, if I came back with a diploma, I'd have a place beside my brother—food, shelter, clothing—without having to watch my every step.
That was enough, wasn't it.
"So it's all right."
Elline looked at me at those words.
Our circumstances growing up were different, of course. But I hoped it was at least a small comfort.
And I hoped that, right now, I could be even a little bit of a support for her.
"Yeah…"
Silence settled between us.
"Elline."
Our eyes met.
"If there's something weighing on you, I'll help."
"…"
"I don't know how much help I can be, but I want to be there for you."
She was always someone I found hard to hold eye contact with—but this time, I didn't want to look away.
"It doesn't have to be because we're together. I just don't want to see you like that."
Elline looked at me steadily.
Then, carefully, she spoke.
"Will you really listen to anything?"
"If it's something I can do."
The guilt, the self-reproach—I had to push them down for now.
"Thank you."
At my answer, Elline gave a small, unburdened smile.
By now, a pale blue moonlight was washing over the field, and the Milky Way cut across the ceiling of the night sky.
She was close, and the sound of my heartbeat quietly stilled.
One by one, lights came on in the academy buildings below, glowing like tiny candle flames.
"Rutess."
"Yeah."
The wind blew.
"I like you."
Elline's voice, without a tremor.
How many times had she said it now.
Every time, I'd deflected. But I didn't want to do that anymore.
I looked at her without wavering.
I hoped that was how it appeared to her, too.
I forced my mouth open and said it so she could hear.
"…Me too."
My voice was shaking, of course.
Elline, having heard my answer, said nothing—and pulled me toward her.
*Thud—*
She pressed her forehead against mine.
"Elli…"
"Just a moment."
She said it quietly.
"Just stay like this for a moment, Rutess."
…
"Okay."
And so the two of us closed our eyes, foreheads resting together in silence.
For a long time.
Until the wind became familiar.