Gaming Center

“…Sorry, say that again?”

Underneath her gaze, Uren fidgets. “I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have asked if I thought there was a better way.”

“I mean, I got that, but…”

Sara glances toward the man sitting at the reception table nearby, who meets her gaze curiously. Since she arrived so late, the second floor’s cubicles are already filled with activity by the other amateur teams, though “filled” might be relative in comparison to the floor below.

“What about your so-called plan? You know, gaining the public’s approval and all that?”

“Things happened… Faster than we expected. Look, I know we’ve met recently, and you’ve no reason to help me-”

“Stop. Okay, fine, I’ll bite. What makes you think you’ll have better chances in the game?”

Now, Uren is the one to glance at their surroundings as he steps closer, touching Sara’s arm softly, who tries, unsuccessfully, not to be affected by his sudden proximity.

“You’re right in that my chances in the game might not be much higher than they are right now… But the payoff would be much bigger. If Aston is speaking the truth about the wish, then…”

“You could save your country… And all you’d need is to compete against the best Elysium has to offer on every field…”

“And win.”

Uren nods, his smile strained.

Sara sighs. The problem is that considering how easily Uren’s initial plan was crushed by Aston, he might simply not have any choice other than giving the game a shot.

“And how do you know they won’t sabotage you in there? There are a million ways they could use to stop you. And even if you somehow manage to win, isn’t there a chance Aston might simply deny your wish?”

Uren steps back as he licks his lips, though his honey eyes remain firmly locked against Sara’s. “Aston values their reputation. And, if my information is correct, it being a wish of mine after winning their contest, they’d have a semi-valid excuse to interfere internationally without causing too much uproar… It makes for a good story, doesn’t it? Foreign prince, fighting for his country and winning against all odds, forcing Elysium to put a close to his home country’s war.”

…Shit, she can see it.

“Okay, I see what you’re thinking. I could even say it’s a better plan than causing Elysium’s population to rebel against their overlords. But, Uren, you do know I was just readmitted to the team, right? I don’t know if can ask something like this from them.”

“You don’t need to. Just give me a chance to talk to them, and if I can’t convince them, then I promise I’ll leave you guys alone from now on.”

Footsteps, slowly climbing the stairs at her back, cause Sara to glance over her shoulder as she is suddenly reminded: she should already have reached her computer at this point.

However, before Sara can compel her paralyzed body to move, two familiar heads appear as they emerge from the first floor, instantly spotting her standing next to Uren; and very much not in front of her computer.

Well… shit.

Sara smiles. Avril doesn’t.

“…What could possibly have stopped you from completing the simple task I gave you?”

“Avril, wait, this is team-related business, I swear! Er… This is Uren. He’d like to speak with you… I mean, and with the rest of the team, too,” Sara explains hurriedly, presenting Uren as he stands by her side with a polity smile on his face.

“Uren Hoxha Juric,” he compliments, offering his hand for a handshake.

Avril merely gives Uren a blank gaze from underneath her large hoody, ignoring his extended hand as she walks past. “I know who you are. And no, I’m not interested.”

To his credit, Uren’s smile doesn’t waver as he turns it toward Braden, who hesitates, but, after a look towards Avril’s back as she approaches the reception table, grabs Uren’s extended hand for a halfhearted handshake.

“Braden,” he greets evenly, throwing Sara a questioning glance as she struggles to keep her own smile in place.

“Can you help me convince her?” she whispers quickly.

“To do what, exactly?”

“I don’t have time to explain! Braden, you owe me one!” Sara forces in between clenched teeth as she glares into his handsome emerald eyes.

For a moment, Braden calmly holds her gaze, making something twist inside Sara’s stomach. But then, he shrugs, calling toward Avril, “Maybe we should at least listen to what he has to say!”

The girl stops as she is about to leave the reception table and head into the maze of cubicles, giving the trio an intense sidelong glance.

“I don’t think she likes me,” Uren whispers from the corner of his mouth.

“I think she likes no one,” Sara whispers back, which causes Braden to roll his eyes.

After a second, Braden walks after Avril, saying over his shoulder, “I wouldn’t wait for an invitation if I were you.”

Sara breathes deeply. Then her eyes meet Uren’s honeyed ones, and she attempts a reassuring smile. “They’re good people, you’ll see. I’m sure they’ll listen to what you have to say.”

The person in question doesn’t seem so sure himself, though he does follow after Braden and Sara toward the reception table where, under the coach’s observant eyes, Sara points her thumb at Uren, “Sara Palmer, and guest permissions for Uren over here, please.”

“Mr. Juric,” the man greets with a smile after a brief glance at his monitor’s screen, “Welcome to our unofficial gaming house.” He gestures towards the dozens of partitions to his right. “You may proceed.”

“Come,” Sara whispers, grabbing Uren’s hand on an impulse. Avril has already moved far into the distance, almost having reached their team’s slot, and Sara feels her face burning as she pulls Uren and ignores Braden.

With the corner of her eyes, she notices Uren glancing down at their attached hands, though she decides she’d rather pretend to not have seen it.

“Listen,” Sara starts, which, thankfully, seems to take his attention away from their hands. “You’ve got one shot,” she continues, now putting as much severity into her tone as she can master. “So, you better think about your words carefully. Avril won’t care unless she thinks there’s something in it for the team. Got it?”

Uren sighs. “I don’t have much to offer,” he admits, causing Sara to bite her lower lip.

“Well, you better think of something fast!”

Far too soon, their steps reach their destination, and Sara finds herself staring at the door leading into her team’s space. Braden, who followed from the back silently the whole time, doesn’t bother to wait and walks around the duo in order to open the door and enter.

He gives Sara one last empty gaze before ordering it close again.

Sara swallows. One of their hands is sweating, and for the life of her, she hopes it isn’t hers.

“Uren,” Sara starts, finding his eyes.

“It’s okay Sara,” Uren interrupts before she can continue. He smiles, revealing white teeth which causes Sara’s stomach to dance a little bit. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re even more worried than I am?”

“But if you fail… Then your mission…” Sara frowns as she glances down, partially to escape Uren’s entrancing gaze in an attempt to think clearly. After a moment, she hears him breathing deeply.

“I’m sorry. I never planned to have you involved in this.”

“Thanks,” Sara murmurs, “But I think it’s a bit too late for that.”

Uren doesn’t say anything, and after a second Sara realizes he’s waiting for her to meet his eyes again. While needlessly fixing her hair, she does so.

“Did you do something?” Uren asks calmly, despite the caution Sara now sees in his expression.

“Yeah.” Sara shrugs. “I might have… Spoken to Flora.”

“Flora?” Uren frowns, clearly confused.

“Do you remember the video about us? Posted in the forum? She’s the one who filmed it and posted it.”

“Okay... For now, I’ll ignore how you figured out an anonymous username. Did you discover something by talking to her?”

Sara shrugs again and throws Uren a nonchalant look. “I don’t know… I might have.”

Uren pauses and then sighs, meeting Sara’s stare with a pleading look. “Sara, you know how important this is to me.”

“Yeah, I know, but look, I can’t have you closing me out again because you’ve decided it has become too dangerous. I’m a big girl, big enough to face the consequences of my own choices. And if you want my help, you’ll have to accept that we’re on the same boat from now on.”

Uren takes a moment to answer. His eyes don’t quite meet Sara’s, and for a terrifying second, she wonders if he’ll simply choose to turn around and leave… Until he smiles meekly, meeting her eyes once more.

“I have a condition.”

“…O-okay, shot it.”

“If this metaphorical boat of ours is about to sink, and the chance presents itself, you have to promise me you’ll jump out… With, or without me.”

“Okay, sure, I can do that,” Sara lies.

Despite not looking fully convinced, Uren still raises his eyebrow as he extends his hand toward her. “I suppose this makes us… Partners in crime?”

Sara smiles, accepting the handshake as she winks at him. “Glad we’ve managed to reach an agreeable deal for both parties, partner.”

‘Citizen Uren Hoxha Juric desires to create a link. User Sara Palmer, do you accept?’

Sara’s eyes widen. “Somebody learns fast! Of course, I accept.”

‘Link creation accepted.’

Uren sighs, looking half relieved, half nervous, as he wipes his hand before running it through his braided hair. “Now will you tell me what Flora had to say for herself?”

Before answering, Sara tilts her head enough to glance into her team’s room through the half-glassed wall, making sure they are all still sitting and not eavesdropping on their conversation. Unfortunately, her eyes immediately meet Kay’s, who raises her eyebrow.

As Sara faces Uren again, her cheeks burning slightly, she clears her throat and murmurs, “I convinced Flora to tell me who asked- No, ordered her to post the video. Check this: Apparently, some random girl called Beatrice blackmailed her to do it, and after digging some more, I found that this Beatrice is this close with Seijuro Aston, our prime suspect!”

Sara pauses subsequently to her revelation, but, to her disappointment, Uren simply nods, seemingly not surprised or impressed. “I don’t who Beatrice is, but Aston more or less admitted to being the one behind everything during our conversation. I assume you saw the video?”

“The one where she destroyed your chances of convincing anyone to help you? Yeah, I say it.”

Uren frowns. “I begged her to listen to my history, but she was very clear about not being interested. She seems fully intended on undermining my reputation, I assume, in order to keep things in Crecia as they are.”

“You wouldn’t happen to have recorded some sort of villainous speech from her, would you?”

Uren snorts. “No such luck. She’s too smart for that.”

“I guess. But we shouldn’t give it for granted she’ll simply leave us alone from now on. If she follows us into the game, we need some sort of countermeasure in order to make sure she plays fair. This girl, Beatrice, is probably our best lead right now… If I could manage a moment alone with her…”

Sara bites her thumb, then blinks once she realizes Uren’s weird expression.

“What?”

He smiles, seemingly attempting to hide it, then gives up and smiles some more. “Nothing, it’s just, you’re taking this a lot more seriously than I expected you to… And I’m very grateful for it, Sara. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

…She’s blushing again, isn’t she?

“You’re welcome,” Sara manages to murmur as she averts her gaze.

Suddenly, the door in front of them slides open, causing both Sara and Uren to nearly jump as it reveals a short-haired, livid-looking girl on the other side. Her piercing eyes jump from one body to the other, before stopping firmly once they find Sara’s gaze. “You’re welcomed for what?”

Sara places her hand over her chest to try and calm her now fast-beating heart as she speaks, “Hi, Grace. Good morning to you too, I guess.”

Grace narrows her eyes as she turns them towards Uren, shamelessly measuring him from head to shoes. “And who in hells are you?”

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Uren, ever polity, clears his throat and extends his hand for a handshake. “Uren Hoxha Juric. You may call me Uren.”

Grace looks at the hand extended in her direction for a moment, and then turns her gaze back toward Sara, clearly having decided Uren isn’t worth her time. “We’re PKing, and I’ve died twice because of you already, partner,” she says, reminding Sara they were supposed to pair up today, but she never arrived.

Oops.

Sara attempts a reconciliatory smile. “Look, I’m sorry. This was kind of important, and I was about to go in.”

Grace rolls her eyes. “Of course you were.”

Before Sara can protest, the other girl grabs her arm and pulls her into the room, where Sara staggers and stops, jerking her arm free.

“What the hell?!” Sara snaps, causing Grace to step away with a surprised look on her face which doesn’t last long.

For once, the open hostility in Sara’s expression as she touches the red, hot marks on her arm causes the other girl to back away and throw her hands into the air.

“Whatever! And you wonder why I didn’t want you on the team again.”

“Fuck,” Sara murmurs as she watches Grace head back to her seat. She notices Uren carefully walking into the room behind her, but instead of glancing at him, Sara looks around, acknowledging the room’s seven occupants, many of whom hardly take their eyes away from their screens to nod at her.

“Ah!” someone exclaims, causing Sara to flinch at the vision of his beheaded character on screen.

Sara had time to acquaint herself with their newest member the previous day, whose shock, to his credit, only lasts a moment before he smiles at her, despite his red cheeks.

“Hi, Sara,” the boy murmurs shyly, not quite meeting her stare, “I was starting to think you weren’t going to show up.”

“Hi, Nico,” Sara replies, returning his smile, “Sorry about killing you... Again.”

Nico shakes his head, already turning around with a renewed look of concentration on his face as his character respawns back in the city. “Not your fault. Avril said I need to learn how to keep my concentration even during unexpected situations.”

Seeing his hands moving through the keyboard with no small amount of skill brings Sara a feeling of nostalgia, from when she first started playing the game. However, she decides to let him to his business and moves her gaze to the next person.

“Nice of you to show up,” Zach murmurs without taking his eyes away from his DivineArrow, which, Sara can see from Zach’s monitor, is currently engaged in fierce combat against several other archers.

As she watches, several arrows split against DivineArrow’s cover, right next to his first-person perspective, before he quickly returns fire, only to hide again just as fast, all the while cursing under his breath.

During the brief moment she was able to see the battlefield, Sara notices Charles’ large PeaceKeeper struggling to keep several enemies at bay, his character already bleeding from numerous injuries.

She should’ve been here. Stupid smartass alarm clock.

Looking at the person himself, which much like his character reminds Sara of a small tank in real life, Sara finds Charles staring at his screen with unwavering concentration. Unsurprisingly, given his situation, he doesn’t acknowledge Sara’s existence, and she realizes he probably didn’t even notice she entered the room.

Next to him, but much more relaxed, Shani rugs one of her knees and stares at Sara, leaning back in her chair as her character stands idle on screen, surrounded by nothing other than corpses… The girl’s multicolored long hair has always reminded Sara of her strong personality.

Once their eyes meet, Shani smiles but doesn’t say anything. Instead, her attention turns to Charles’ screen.

Avril sits beside both of them, as gloomy as always, and, separated from the rest, Braden and Grace sit next to each other, whispering among themselves. Braden seems to be trying to convince Grace of something, and failing miserably as the girl stares fixedly into her screen.

“Fuck!” Charles suddenly curses, which pretty much announces his character’s death to everyone, and causes Sara to turn her eyes to Zach’s screen again, just in time to catch him being swarmed by at least three different players.

The result of such a fight is to be expected, despite Charles’s cheering on the side. Zach’s stream of curses once his character dies, however, is enough to make Sara blush, and that’s before his livid expression is turned toward her.

“Way to go, Sara! Way to go!”

“How is that my fault?!”

Honestly surprised, Sara realizes she now has the attention of the room, including Kay’s, who sips from a can of soda and smiles as if watching an interesting show.

“How?! Not only did you arrive nearly one hour late-”

“C’mon, it was more like half an hour!”

“…On your first day back, might I add, but you also distracted me from the fight! Unbelievable! I’m already regretting my vote, let me tell yo-”

“Zachary,” a cold voice abruptly cuts through the room, “Be silent.”

All gazes, Sara’s included, turn towards Avril, except for one; Much different from her relaxed posture from before, Shani now stares at her screen intensely, her typing almost frantic as she rolls her character around, turns it, and shoots an arrow at point blank against her pursuer.

However, to Sara’s disbelief, not only does Shani’s opponent dodges the attack, he also immediately continues to push his character forward, beheading ColorfulFlow. The person herself, however, doesn’t even look towards her screen as her character spawns back in the city, and instead, instantly turns to watch Avril’s screen.

She’s not the only one.

A heavy silence, only interrupted by Avril’s rhythmic typing, descends over the group as they quickly circle around the large stand filled with computers to see the battle from her perspective.

Careful to stay far enough as to not disturb Avril’s concentration, Sara stops and holds her breath once she finally catches sight of the girl’s screen, which flashes in red constantly.

DarkEnding, Avril’s character, swings its spear to block the fierce attacks of a swordsman. However, as Avril dodges and jumps around, the screen rotates so fast that it soon becomes hard for Sara to follow the fight properly. At the very least, she quickly recognizes Avril faces multiple opponents at once, Shani’s killer included.

Suddenly, Avril’s hands break their methodic typing, DarkEnding’s spear lunges forward, and blood flies through the air. Without a pause, she continues to command her character to roll away from her opponent’s attacks… But now Sara realizes her movements aren’t without a purpose, merely a way to stall for the right opportunity.

Avril, usually detached, now stares at her screen intently, her pupils jumping across it, clearly seeing a different scene than those around here; A battlefield, where the slightness mistake might lead to her character’s death, and where every calculated move leads closer to that of her opponents’.

“Pay attention,” Avril says, startling those gathered around her booth. DarkEnding never stops its flurry of movements, nor does Avril sway her eyes away as she continues, “They are cocky. Arrogant.”

Indeed, Sara is able to see the approach of an even greater number of opponents coming from the trees surrounding DarkEnding, but instead of joining the battle, they simply stop to watch it, creating a large loose circle. Avril doesn’t seem worried, as she simply continues to dodge and block with incredible precision, using the longer reach of her spear to keep most of her enemies at bay.

Sara clenches her teeth, something stirring inside of her as she watches Avril’s screen flashing repeatedly.

She should have been here, fighting alongside her teammates…

However, any feelings of shame Sara might are soon overpowered by her excitement as Avril kills another one of her opponents, seemingly effortlessly.

Now, it seems the others have stopped underestimating her, and arrows are being drawn. However, in the middle of the confusion, how would the bystander archers aim properly without hitting their own colleagues?

Avril’s every movement seems to take her character deeper into the underground jungle she had been fighting through, reminding Sara of her fight against the pack of wolves yesterday; Just, DarkEnding’s actions are twice as decisive, and soon it becomes harder and harder for Sara to see any players on screen at all.

“Did she lose them…?” Shani murmurs, pretty much mimicking Sara’s thoughts.

Avril stops her character and carefully turns it around. Sure enough, Sara is unable to spot any enemies left… Until DarkEnding starts heading in the direction where it came from.

“No way you’re-”

“Observe with your eyes, not with your mouth.”

Shani cringes under Avril’s reprimand, whose cold voice is a very poor representation of how fast her fingers move throughout the keyboard, showcasing DarkEnding deadly movements across the dark jungle.

Sara isn’t surprised when she spots the first player on Avril’s path, who, to their credit, is able to raise their weapon just as the spear on screen suddenly shoots forward, following Avril’s cursor snake-like trail at lightning speed, and cleanly beheading its target.

While Avril continues forward as though nothing happened, Sara intakes a sharp breath of the room’s cool, conditioned air. If the one controlling that character was her, even with her reflexes… Would she have been able to avoid Avril’s spear? Or block it? From the attacked perspective, Sara is sure the blow looked as though it changed direction midair, considering how fast Avril’s cursor moved.

Sara is sure she has never seen anything similar from Avril before. Just in a month or two…

No way. Scary. Seriously scary.

Unaware of Sara’s thoughts, Avril continues to play, and soon another enemy appears in view. This time, they hardly have the chance to turn around before their head is separated from its body.

“She’s circling around,” Charles murmurs as he meets Sara’s gaze briefly, “And making sure her footsteps don’t make a lot of noise. They will never see it coming.”

“Is that even possible…?” Uren whispers back.

“Watch,” Charles says, shrugging as he nods toward DarkEnding.

Sara holds her breath. Can she really do it? She has always known Avril was good, but…

On-screen, a clearing appears ahead. Sara is quick to recognize the place where the fight started, and the unaware group of archers who now have their backs turned toward DarkEnding.

One, three, five… Seven archers suddenly turn around, just in time to witness the first of their members fall. Arrows are pointed, but… Avril rolls her character forward, almost sluggishly, and the volley of projectiles goes amiss.

Now, amidst them, DarkEnding’s spear rises fort.

Once the “fight” is over, Avril's screen has yet to flash in red, and none of her enemies ever drew another arrow, though one of them parried her spear with a dagger once, a rather impressive feat.

“Is it… is it over…?” Sara murmurs, finally releasing the sigh of amazement she didn’t realize she was holding.

“Only if you’re referring to my patience.”

Avril slowly turns on her chair to stare at her audience, meeting each of their gazes as DarkEnding stands atop a bloody mess of bodies, ignored.

“This better be quick, Prince.”

***

Earth In Words Institute, Wooded Path

What should she say?

…Is there even anything left to say?

He has failed her, again and again, broken every promise, and for what?

“…and then, out of nowhere, she hit me! Can you believe it?!”

Seijuro’s train of thought is suddenly interrupted by the sight of two big, blue, expecting eyes staring at her.

The princess holds back her sigh. “Yes, in fact, I can. I watched the video… In which I distinctly remember you being the one to hit her first?”

Beatrice’s expectant gaze is replaced by a scowl as she waves her hand dismissively. “Details. And she had it coming. You don’t just waste good food like that...”

Beatrice averts her gaze as she speaks, making it clear to Seijuro that she doesn’t actually care about her spoiled sweets. The slap came during the comment about her family, after all.

Despite noticing their pacing has gone down by a lot after they started holding hands, Seijuro can’t really bring herself to care about arriving late; Not when everything seems so meaningless anyway.

Perhaps focusing on something else might help with her dreadful humor. Why not?

“Beatrice… Your father, he…”

“He’s a prick,” Beatrice starts, though her gaze remains downcast, “He… he never thought I was good enough.” She shrugs. “He always preferred his Linda... Telling me to stay out of the way, to be obedient like my mother, but I… I just…”

Knowing Beatrice, Seijuro has a good of idea of how that must have gone. She gives the girl’s hand a light squeeze, meeting her frail gaze. “That sounds… Harsh.”

Beatrice nods halfheartedly. “It was. Well, it doesn’t really matter anymore, does it?”

“I suppose not.”

“Your turn now!”

As if her confession never happened, Beatrice gives Seijuro a broad smile as she begins to swing their hands back and forth.

“Stop that!”

Seijuro laughs, surprisingly caught by the other girl’s seemingly never-ending energy.

“Only if you tell me!”

“All right, all right! I’ll tell you, just stop!”

Beatrice giggles as she stops swinging and stares into Seijuro’s sunglasses expectantly. “So?”

Seijuro sighs. So much for not thinking about it.

“…Kuro and I had a fight this morning, over my father’s announcement.”

Beatrice rolls her eyes. “I saw that! Kuro is your chauffeur, right? Is he fired?”

“His job is safe,” Seijuro assures, “He took my father’s side, after all.”

“Okayyyy… I can see how that would piss you off. I mean, my maids always… Yeah, I totally understand you. What about the announcement pissed you off so much?”

Seijuro gives Beatrice a glance. “Did you watch it?”

“Well… No, sorry. Seemed bor- I mean, I’m sure it was important, but I had… Er…”

“It’s okay, you were right in skipping it.”

“Okayyyy… I see you’re still pissed about it.”

Seijuro snorts. “I guess I am. And to answer your question, long story short, he told me the announcement was about something important, and I woke up today to find out it was about a stupid ga-”

“S-Seijuro… M-my hand…”

Seijuro abruptly unclenches her grip as she realizes the pain in Beatrice’s voice, who returns her apologetic glance with a strained smile.

“Games and fun, huh? Seijuro Aston’s only weakness.”

“…Shut up.”

Seijuro averts her gaze.

She can do fun.

She’s fun.

…When was the last time she did something because she thought it might be fun to?

“Will you tell me what you thought it was going to be about instead?”

Seijuro gives Beatrice a long, long look, until the shorter girl actually begins to fidget under it.

“W-what?”

“When did you become so…”

“I knew it! You always thought I was annoying, didn’t you?!”

Unable to hold her laugh over the girl’s everchanging myriad of emotions, Seijuro shakes her head. “I’m sorry, but it’s not my fault!”

“You’re the one who never listened to anything I had to say! Seijuro, you’re so cruel! Stingy! Fake friend! She-tyrant!”

“Fine! Enough! I’ll listen to you from now on, okay?! I promise!”

Beatrice stops – literally - causing Seijuro’s laugh to slowly die as they stand in the middle of the desert path surrounded by trees.

“Really? Are we really friends now?”

Staring into Beatrice’s clear blue eyes reminds Seijuro of the summer sky before a storm; Cloudless, endless beyond human understanding, and dangerous despite its apparent innocence.

“You do not believe me?”

Beatrice steps forward, as if trying to force a real answer out of Seijuro. “Promise me. Promise me this is something real.”

“Well…” Seijuro glances towards their tied hands. She is grateful for her sunglasses. “I don’t know how you want me to prove I’m serious.”

“Why did you come to see me yesterday?”

Seijuro shrugs. “I don’t know. I was already there… And the nurses contacted me…”

“That’s it?” Beatrice’s huge eyes seem to expect more, searching for it throughout Seijuro’s expression.

“…Is it so hard to believe I care about someone close to me being hurt? I was worried about you.”

Beatrice lowers her gaze, frowning. “But I… I’m…”

“My mother,” Seijuro admits, releasing a sigh as she attracts Beatrice’s gaze once more, “That’s what my father promised the announcement was going to be about.”

Seijuro adjusts her sunglasses as she averts her gaze toward a slightly darkened sky. She should wear them more often, Seijuro reflects bitterly, for a more accurate representation of reality.

Suddenly noticing a slander, sneaky hand about to touch her face, Seijuro reflexively slaps it away.

“Hey!” With a hurt look on her face, Beatrice rubs her own hand. “That wasn’t nice. I was just curious.”

“About my face?” Seijuro questions suspiciously.

“Well… It’s a really impressive swollen eye you got there.”

Seijuro frowns. Is it swollen already?

At least the pain is a nice reminder… A reminder to never trust Liam Aston again.

“Did he… Did he really punch you?”

She didn’t leave him much choice.

Seijuro sighs. “It doesn’t matter.”

Beatrice cringes. “About your mother, I… I’m sorry. It’s easy to…”

“Forget? Not think about it? Don’t worry, people have lives to live, and I understand they can’t grieve forever… Not even for their queen.”

“Are you… Are you sure? Because I’d have been pissed…”

Pissed, huh?

When her mother’s accident was still spoken of daily...

Seijuro will always remember the stares thrown at her, carrying pity and worry, rather than the respect she had worked so hard to build. The hours spent trying to avoid them, the sense of something being off no matter where she went, how the world seemed to bend onto itself whenever she tried to sleep… The will to scream at the top of her lungs.

The accident; Her pain and despair.

The hospital; Her fear, horror, hopelessness.

The days and weeks hence… And the rage. Always the rage.

Images, and memories, all playing across her vision like a particularly bad movie she seems unable to escape from.

“…Seijuro?”

Seijuro smiles. “Don’t worry, my temper is well under control.”

Seeing Beatrice’s dubious stare, Seijuro narrows her eyes.

“O-of course, I’d never suggest otherwise!”

As Beatrice averts her gaze, laughing awkwardly, Seijuro rolls her eyes. At this point, few people still aren’t aware of what might happen if she loses her cool. Is there even a point in continuing to pretend?

Nodding toward the path ahead of them, Seijuro offers Beatrice her hand once more. “I do believe we missed the first half an hour of Modern Fashion already.”

Eyes sparkling, Beatrice hesitates but for a moment before carefully reaching for Seijuro’s hand as she throws the princess a wide smile.

Though the duo resumes their walk at a slightly faster pace than before, after a moment, hearing Beatrice’s giggle, Seijuro sighs.

“You know, I’d appreciate it if you refrained from giggling creepily in my presence.”

“C-creepily?!”

Seijuro stares at her. “I hope I’m not just a trophy to you.”

Beatrice pales. “Seijuro, you are the first person… You’re the only one…” As Beatrice’s voice lowers gradually, she everts her gaze. “…You’re my first friend. People think I’m pushy and annoying, and… My reputation proceeds me, more often than not.”

“I suppose I saw something under your usual annoying exterior.”

“Hey!”

“And I believe you wouldn’t be so hated if they understood you better... Perhaps you should consider giving them a chance to.”

“…M-maybe.”

“Beatrice-”

Her stare ignited, Beatrice glares at Seijuro as she abruptly yanks her hand from the princess’s grip and steps away. “I don’t know how, okay?! I always… I always fuck everything up! Just like I’m going to fuck this up and make you hate me too! It always, always, always happens!”

Staring at her empty hand, Seijuro blinks.

“You’ll hate me, and it’ll be so much worse! So much worse than if I had never known!”

“Beatrice, I’m not going to-”

Beatrice shakes her head abruptly, whirling her hair as a golden waterfall. “You can’t promise that! It will happen, and then… And then…!” Beatrice sobs, her gaze hidden as she clenches her teeth and steps back once more. “I-I-I am sorry!”

“Beatrice!” Seijuro calls, but Beatrice is already running away, long blond hair bouncing after her petite figure.

After a moment of watching the girl move further and further away, Seijuro frowns. She could’ve, of course, stopped Beatrice by force… Even now, she could still catch up easily.

Seijuro sighs.

Was that too much, too fast?