When breakfast time came, Ruslan quietly got up and went down to the dining hall.
When Baigarten, who had come down around the same time, asked if there had been any trouble yesterday, Ruslan hesitated for a moment before just nodding his head.
Baigarten examined Ruslan’s complexion, then let out a light breath and nodded.
As the meal was coming to an end, Ruslan carefully asked if it would be okay to take Sarka’s breakfast to him.
Baigarten had a somewhat contemplative expression, but soon nodded briefly.
Sarka hadn’t put anything in his mouth except for a bowl of soup yesterday, so even though he didn’t usually eat breakfast, it would be better for him to eat something.
Ruslan, who had gathered warm soup and simple snacks, held the plate and went up following Baigarten.
When he knocked on the bedroom door, there was a rustling sound from beyond the door.
When the door opened, Ruslan nervously peeked into the room over Baigarten’s shoulder.
“Did you sleep well?”
Sarka, who had drawn back the bed curtains and sat up, languidly turned this way at Baigarten’s greeting.
Though his face was still tired and weary, Sarka’s complexion was better than yesterday, perhaps because he had gotten some sleep.
Slightly relieved, Ruslan watched for a chance and silently set the plate down on the side table.
Sarka was watching Baigarten sit on the edge of the bed and open his bag. Baigarten pulled out a small bottle from inside the bag and held it out to Sarka.
The firmly sealed bottle opening had a seal in the shape of two birds that appeared to be an eagle and an owl touching their wing tips together, and was made of material that didn’t show the contents. Baigarten briefly explained.
“It took some time to get permission. It’s not a large amount, but it should help considerably.”
Sarka took the bottle and checked it, then silently tore off the seal. The smell of blood rushed out.
Sarka slightly frowned and looked down at the bottle. Baigarten coaxed Sarka understandingly.
“Though the preservative scent is a bit foul, the effect should be good. Drink it all down.”
Sarka brought the bottle to his lips with his brow furrowed as if enduring the nauseating smell, holding his breath.
Ruslan’s heart raced seeing Sarka’s hand, which still hadn’t regained its strength, unsteadily supporting the bottle, but Sarka tilted back his head and emptied the bottle in one go without spilling a single drop.
Sarka’s Adam’s apple moved. The faint smell of blood wafted then faded. He could see Sarka’s pupils, having swallowed the blood, dye a vivid red.
At the same time, the wounds remaining all over Sarka’s body began to smoothly disappear.
It was a scene like someone erasing with an eraser. Ruslan opened his mouth watching the torn marks and bruises remaining on Sarka’s forehead, the faint nail marks all cleanly disappear and return to the spotlessly white and clear skin.
The binding marks remaining on Sarka’s wrists, and even the burn marks on his right hand that he thought would leave scars, all cleanly disappeared as if dissolving in water. Even the pale and haggard complexion smoothly vanished, replaced by a fresh, healthy color on his face like someone who had just come back from running around the playground.
Sarka let out a long breath like someone reborn, then stroked his nape and languidly murmured.
“……I’ll live.”
That voice clearly revived the previous cold and stern strength, and arrogant confidence once again dwelled in it, settling low. The completely unwavering voice was cold and clear. Ruslan felt his mind completely at ease.
Sarka, as if confirming his body freed from muscle pain, slightly bent his nape with one hand gripping the back of his neck. Between the loosely unbuttoned shirt, his neckline curved firmly like a young stag. A refreshed breath flowed from his lips where the split wounds had disappeared.
Ruslan, who had been blankly watching that, suddenly remembered Sarka’s moist lips from the bathroom yesterday, and unnecessarily turned his head, scattering his gaze. Strangely, the area around his earlobes felt hot.
Baigarten checked Sarka’s complexion and nodded.
“Can you return to classes right away?”
Sarka nodded lightly. Sarka, looking down at himself who had slept in an uncomfortable formal outfit because he didn’t have the strength to change last night, frowned slightly. Seeing him displeased with his wrinkled clothing, it seemed the old Sarka had definitely returned.
Baigarten, also judging that Sarka had completely recovered upon seeing that attitude, said cheerfully.
“Good, I’ll report that to the Headmaster. The confinement ends today. Your illness will probably be treated as just a rather severe cold, so if friends ask, keep your story straight with that.”
While Baigarten added several precautions regarding Sarka’s illness name, Ruslan unnecessarily kept stealing glances at Sarka’s profile.
Sarka’s posture was straight, sitting up properly with his back straight and not bowing his head at all like before. His unwavering green eyes had become calm and quiet again, and his lightly closed lips held ascetic restraint. Sarka, silently listening to Baigarten’s explanation, looked like someone who had never once been sick or weakened.
Thinking of Sarka’s eyes from last night that had looked unbelievably pained and fragile, Ruslan felt strange.
Baigarten spoke in a consciously cheerful tone like before, and Sarka also listened with an indifferent attitude like before. The two seemed to have tacitly decided to cover up the past week as if it never happened and treat each other that way.
Ruslan, who had been blankly staring at Sarka who had returned to being an elegant noble boy while lost in thought, suddenly came to his senses at his own name popping out.
“……Ruslan’s luggage should probably be moved back to your room, right?”
Baigarten spoke in a casual tone while glancing at Sarka.
Sarka didn’t answer.
Baigarten briefly observed that attitude, then soon nodded and moved on to another topic.
Barely hearing Baigarten’s voice picking up the list of school events that had occurred during the week and friends who had wanted to visit, Ruslan stared intently at Sarka’s profile. Sarka didn’t turn to look at Ruslan.
Finally, when Baigarten greeted the two and left the room, Ruslan tried to follow but suddenly hesitated. Sarka had stopped mid-rise and was looking at the plate on the side table.
Ruslan suddenly felt his heart beating madly.
Sarka hesitated slightly, then turned his head toward Ruslan as if to say something. Ruslan froze in place unable to breathe, staring at Sarka’s mouth.
“…….”
After a short silence, Sarka closed his mouth and turned his head.
Sarka, who got up from his seat, walked to the wardrobe and took out clothes to change into. When Sarka’s hands began to unbutton his wrinkled shirt, flustered Ruslan hastily ran out of the room.
Ruslan, who had come out as if fleeing and stood awkwardly at the living room entrance, felt his heartbeat pounding so loudly it rang in his ears. Ruslan unnecessarily gulped down saliva repeatedly while listening to the presence in the room.
After a moment, Sarka, wearing his familiar indoor gown, walked out of the room. Ruslan stopped and turned his head.
Sarka looked toward Ruslan as if hesitating for a moment, but soon didn’t open his mouth and crossed the living room to enter the bathroom.
Ruslan, who had been stopped listening to the water sounds, unconsciously moved slightly and glanced inside through the half-open door.
There were no signs of the plate on the side table having been touched.
Ruslan felt his heart, which had soared sky-high, smoothly sink back down.
He waited a bit longer just in case, but after washing up, Sarka arranged his hair and changed into his school uniform, then left the room as soon as he picked up his bag.
Though breakfast time was almost over so there wasn’t enough leisure to eat, seeing the plate without any touched marks, Ruslan unconsciously felt a bit deflated.
……Was last night’s incident being treated as if it never happened?
That might be the case. Though he had shown his collapsed appearance before a human after being weakened to the extreme due to discipline, that probably hadn’t remained as a pleasant memory for Sarka. Perhaps it was a memory so shameful he didn’t even want to recall it.
Ruslan silently looked at the plate, then sighed and took it down to the dining hall to clear it away.
An ordinary day began.
Sarka’s friends seemed to welcome him, both worrying about and joking with Sarka who had returned after being sick for a week.
Sarka, who gently smiled at friends asking after his health, was the courteous, kind, and friendly noble boy he had always been for the past year and a half.
Except that his gaunt neckline and wrists had become a bit thinner, there was no trace of having been sick on Sarka at all.
His neat bearing with not a trace of dishevelment from head to toe, his elegant attitude, everything was no different from before receiving discipline.
It seemed believable if someone said the past week and last night were dreams Ruslan had.
Ruslan, who confirmed Sarka normally eating lunch mingling with friends in the dining hall, finally felt somewhat at ease. A faint worry had remained in his heart wondering if perhaps Sarka would be unable to swallow food again.
Sarka was continuing his lunch as usual, gently laughing at his friends’ jokes.
Ruslan looked at Sarka’s back, then soon began to shove food into his own mouth as well.
Daily life continued calmly as if it had never once been interrupted.
Ruslan brought the luggage bag he had placed under the bed in the scholarship dormitory back into Sarka’s living room and pushed it into the fixed spot next to the terrace. Perhaps Baigarten had said something, as the dorm supervisor didn’t impose any restrictions on Ruslan moving his sleeping quarters.
Ruslan crouched in a corner of the living room and began to check the progress he had missed while continuously dozing or spacing out during that time. To not miss this semester’s scholarship, it seemed safe to memorize these parts completely.
Suddenly realizing that the deadlines for the assignments that had piled up while he was spacing out were dangerously close, Ruslan was horrified and frantically spread open his notebook. It was around the time Ruslan was finishing the piled-up reports with half-flying handwriting.
The door opened and Sarka walked out into the living room.
Ruslan unconsciously fumbled and almost dropped his fountain pen, then barely caught the half-bounced fountain pen in mid-air.
While Ruslan was flustered, Sarka quietly crossed the living room, then slowly sat on the sofa.
Ruslan, who had been frozen unnecessarily tense while gripping his pen, stealthily raised his head as if to check.
However, just before their eyes met, Sarka turned his head and opened the book he had brought out.
When Sarka began to read, Ruslan, who had been hesitating for a moment, soon lowered his gaze and awkwardly began to salvage the report with ink scrawled marks.
A strange silence flowed in the living room.
Ruslan, who had been unnecessarily furrowing his brow and making a serious expression while continuing his report, suddenly realized that the sound of Sarka turning pages could no longer be heard.
It felt like his chest was suddenly constricting.
After hesitating for a moment, Ruslan tried to subtly raise his gaze to check what Sarka was doing.
However, as soon as Ruslan’s gaze moved, Sarka flinched and turned his head.
Ruslan froze in place unable to breathe, staring at Sarka’s profile.
Sarka’s gaze fell back onto the book page. His green eyes wavered faintly.
At that gaze wandering unable to find the part he had been reading, Ruslan also hurriedly lowered his gaze in response. Ruslan’s navy blue eyes also shook violently as he searched for the part he had been writing.
A strange silence flowed.
Before long, Ruslan could realize that Sarka could barely concentrate on his book.
Sarka often stopped without moving his fingers as if lost in deep thought, or would turn his head toward Ruslan as if to say something and freeze stiffly.
However, if Ruslan stealthily raised his gaze to try to meet his eyes, Sarka would immediately turn his head as if avoiding his gaze.
How exactly he should treat Ruslan, Sarka himself seemed to have not yet determined a direction.
Ruslan felt his heart begin to bounce and vibrate thump-thump-thump.
As time passed, Sarka seemed to begin feeling slightly annoyed with himself.
Ruslan discovered Sarka furrowing his brow and looking toward the fireplace lost in serious thought, or resting his chin on his hand with his lips set like someone caught in conflict.
Sarka sat on the sofa with his legs crossed, his mouth closed and quietly submerged in an almost gloomy-looking expression. Occasionally, Sarka’s expression was rigid, furrowing his brow and frozen as if having difficulty enduring irritation.
Ruslan felt his heart unnecessarily becoming anxious. It was like watching a taut ball that could bounce anywhere.
Sometimes Sarka would frown almost like an angry person and glare toward Ruslan, and suddenly scrutinize Ruslan with a strange gaze as if looking at a completely different person.
However, if Ruslan, unable to endure that blatant gaze any longer, stealthily raised his head to try to meet his eyes, Sarka would immediately withdraw his gaze and turn his head like someone who had a blade pointed at him.
That tension made Ruslan break out in cold sweat down his back.
Sarka seemed like a half-enraged person. His furrowed brow was utterly uncomfortable, and in some ways even looked displeased.
Ruslan, unnecessarily cowed despite having committed no crime, stealthily turned his body to sit with his back to Sarka, pretending to concentrate on his assignment.
Sarka didn’t even turn to look at Ruslan, lost in serious thought while staring at empty air.
Ruslan, who had been anxiously listening and observing Sarka’s mood, only moved his eyes to check the table side when he heard a strange sound after a moment.
Ruslan’s body froze.
In front of Sarka who was lost in thought looking toward the fireplace entrance, the corner of a notebook placed on the table was crinkling and crumpling by itself.
Sarka seemed unaware that he was using telekinesis, lost in thought. Ruslan thought it was similar to movements people lost in deep thought unconsciously make rubbing paper corners with their fingertips or mindlessly twirling pens.
Occasionally, as if Sarka was unconsciously moving his telekinesis, a pen that had been resting on the paper would roll about half a turn then return to its place.
Ruslan now began to feel suffocated.
Trembling unnecessarily worried that the sound of pen strokes might be heard, Ruslan crouched like someone being punished and stealthily wrote his report.
Sarka was lost in contemplation so serious it made the observer uncomfortable, resting his chin and leaning his body diagonally against the armrest while staring at empty air.
What thoughts were moving inside that head, Ruslan was now more scared than curious.
As if frozen on thin ice, not even the sound of breathing came from the living room.
Sarka sometimes stared at Ruslan’s back so intensely that the back of Ruslan’s head tingled, and sometimes turned his head to look at empty air and stopped as if irritated with himself.
Ruslan took advantage of the gap when Sarka turned his head to secretly check the table side, and after witnessing the scene of Sarka’s fountain pen floating diagonally in the air slowly rotating, couldn’t even dare to turn his head again.
In the end, Sarka seemed unable to reach a conclusion.
When bedtime approached, Sarka stood up with an irritated movement and tossed the book he was holding onto the table, then walked with long strides into the bathroom.
After washing up, Sarka didn’t turn to look at Ruslan and tidied the table, then entered his room without looking back.
Only after the bedroom door closed did Ruslan exhale the breath he had been holding as if spewing it out.
Ruslan placed his palm on his wildly beating chest and pressed down, frozen staring at the bedroom door.
Thinking he would have to sit facing each other like this tomorrow too, Ruslan even felt a brief temptation to wonder if he should go back to stay in the scholarship dormitory. He felt like his lifespan had shortened by a few days.
Ruslan thought that now was more nerve-wracking than when Sarka toyed with him like a bored cat.
It was like watching some unknown creature trying to break through a box, in a situation where he couldn’t even judge whether he should run away or wait quietly.
