The next morning. Ruslan opened his eyes with a sparkle in a refreshing mood.
As if the luxury bed in the special dormitory had absorbed all his accumulated fatigue, his whole body felt refreshed and clear.
Like a vampire who had swallowed blood, Ruslan confirmed that even the muscle pain from being tortured by Sarka had completely disappeared.
Ruslan, who stretched triumphantly, sat up with a start.
When he carefully drew back the curtain and checked across, Sarka’s bed curtain was quiet.
Ruslan stealthily put on his shoes, silently took out his uniform from his bag, then quickly slipped out of the room.
Having roughly washed and changed into his uniform, Ruslan began running down the stairs energetically like a squirrel.
Arriving at the dining hall, Ruslan stuffed bread and bagels into his mouth as he grabbed them, and loaded food onto a plate.
Having combined the menu well while deliberating, Ruslan looked down at the prettily arranged finished product.
Ruslan, who held the plate with a satisfied face, ran up the stairs in a rush.
When the door opened, Sarka, who had been languidly sitting on the sofa looking down at a book with his hair still wet, paused and looked back at Ruslan.
Ruslan watched for cues slightly, then slyly walked to the living room table where Sarka was sitting. He could feel Sarka’s gaze following along.
Without making eye contact pretending not to notice, Ruslan smoothly pushed the plate toward Sarka.
Sarka looked down at the plate with an incredulous expression for a moment, then soon looked up at Ruslan with a rough expression.
At that sharp gaze, Ruslan hunched his shoulders and mumbled.
“……Getting permission for every little thing is what for……I just brought it.”
When Sarka made an exasperated expression, Ruslan flinched and hurriedly made excuses.
“I, it’s not that I want to act like your servant……. It, it’s just because you accepted me as a roommate, I also wanted to do something for you……”
“……”
Sarka silently glared at Ruslan for a moment.
At that aggressive gaze, Ruslan slyly deflated. Ruslan, who was watching for cues, mumbled in a shrinking voice.
“If I’m being annoying……sorry. If it bothers you……I won’t do it from now on.”
“……”
When Ruslan hung his head dejectedly like a puppy that had brought the wrong ball, Sarka turned his head and glared at the fireplace area.
Ruslan slyly rolled only his eyes to examine Sarka’s mood.
He could see Sarka’s fingers, furrowed brow and neck stiffly rigid, slowly twisting together. At the movement that seemed extremely twisted in mood, Ruslan’s heart began to become anxious.
Even if Sarka jumped up right now and shoved the plate into the fireplace, he shouldn’t feel hurt.
It was around when Ruslan was making such a resolution.
“……It’s not that I don’t eat because I don’t want to go where there are many people.”
Ruslan flinched and raised his gaze.
Sarka was still turned away looking at the fireplace, rigidly frozen. The suppressed voice was uncomfortable as if forcibly pressing down a blade.
Sarka, like someone doing a very arduous task, frowned and chose his words, then slowly continued.
“I don’t……not have morning sleepiness either.”
Ruslan blinked. Suddenly Ruslan’s eyes widened roundly.
Sarka’s rigidly frozen face looked like an angry person at a glance, but no aggression was felt from Sarka’s voice.
Sarka spoke in a tone that was blunt and awkward, but trying not to raise his hackles.
“I just, don’t like troublesome things……and don’t like eating alone when someone’s watching.”
Having finished speaking, Sarka closed his mouth and remained silent with a rigid expression. Ruslan unconsciously opened his mouth.
This was……not a rejection, not anger or irritation, but……how should he say it.
He’s making……’excuses’.
Ruslan unconsciously froze and stared blankly at Sarka. Sarka still didn’t look back at Ruslan and was frozen with a stiff expression.
Though it was a very awkward and stiff attitude, Ruslan realized what Sarka was trying to attempt now.
This was……the first time Sarka had ‘honestly’ talked about his position.
To the <roommate> who had brought him a meal, who was neither a servant nor a dog being raised.
Ruslan, who had been staring blankly at Sarka with his mouth open, asked fumbling in a dazed voice.
“Then……from now on I’ll bring it, so will you……eat together with me?”
“That thing?”
Sarka immediately frowned and gestured with his chin at the plate.
Ruslan looked down at the plate in front of Sarka in shock, then watched for cues and added awkwardly.
“From tomorrow……I’ll bring portions for two.”
“……”
Sarka didn’t answer and looked at Ruslan, then abruptly stood up.
Sarka, who strode back to the bedroom, closed the door.
Ruslan looked at the bedroom somewhat deflated, then blankly picked up the plate.
Picking up the plate and going down the stairs, Ruslan was half deflated.
Ruslan, who had arrived at the dining hall without even knowing when he’d arrived, lost in thought, looked down at the plate for a moment, then picked at it and ate for no reason.
Having emptied the plate to a degree that wasn’t too embarrassing, Ruslan swallowed what he’d been chewing and returned the plate.
Ruslan’s steps running to the classroom with a fuller stomach than usual were energetic.
The next morning.
Ruslan filled two plates with various foods, then picked up one more plate and evenly loaded it with dessert, fruit, and drinks.
Having finally put the heavy plates on a tray, Ruslan diligently climbed the stairs.
When he opened the door struggling, Sarka, who had just come out of the bathroom, paused and looked back at Ruslan.
When Ruslan held the tray and slyly watched for cues, Sarka, who had been standing briefly, silently entered the room.
Following into the bedroom, Sarka sat down on the sofa by the window.
Ruslan quickly set down the tray on the small table beside the sofa and sat on the sofa across from Sarka.
When he slyly pushed one plate toward Sarka, Sarka silently reached out and pulled that plate the rest of the way. Ruslan slightly pulled the other plate toward himself.
Sarka swept up his still-wet hair, then picked up a cracker.
The two’s first breakfast together began.
Ruslan, immersed in a moving feeling, stole glances at the scene of Sarka across from him spreading jam on bread.
Perhaps because Sarka hadn’t eaten breakfast in a long time, he didn’t approach the food with a particularly enthusiastic attitude.
Having spread jam on one small piece of bread and eaten it with a little cheese and fruit, Sarka seemed to be full with that.
Perhaps because breakfast he usually didn’t eat was awkward, he hesitated slightly and only touched one or two more pieces of cracker.
Ruslan, who became anxious that Sarka might get up any moment, hesitated slightly, then swallowed the bagel he’d been chewing and carefully asked.
“……Why don’t you like eating alone?”
Sarka, who had been quietly chewing a cracker, raised his eyes and looked at Ruslan.
Ruslan couldn’t even bring the bagel in his hand to his mouth for no reason and waited hesitantly.
It was unexpected that Sarka, who wanted to hole up alone in his room all the time, didn’t like eating meals alone. He thought Sarka would think it was better to eat alone than to sit facing humans.
Sarka silently swallowed what was in his mouth, then answered dryly.
“……Because it feels like receiving prison rations, it’s unpleasant.”
Ruslan suddenly felt like a chunk of bagel was stuck tight in his esophagus.
Ruslan froze while holding the half-eaten bagel in one hand and looked at Sarka.
Sarka just expressionlessly lifted his glass of milk and didn’t look back at Ruslan.
Ruslan suddenly recalled that when he had brought food to Sarka sitting on that sofa after the punishment ended, Sarka hadn’t even touched that plate.
Even after starving for days and unable to get up from hunger, Sarka had sat on the sofa all day just staring at it without trying to eat.
Only after hearing the news that his father was coming did Sarka force himself to swallow it. With an expressionless face that didn’t make eye contact with anyone in the room.
He remembered what he’d heard from Baigarten. That Sarka coming to this school was no different from being ‘exiled’ as the price for not accepting his father’s ideology. That Sarka wouldn’t eat food given by Baigarten even if he starved to death.
From Ruslan’s frozen mouth, a dazed voice leaked out trembling.
“I……see.”
Sarka silently chewed a cracker and looked at Ruslan with slightly furrowed eyes.
Ruslan couldn’t eat any more for no reason and mumbled softly.
“……Sorry.”
Sarka frowned. Having swallowed the cracker he’d been chewing, Sarka spat out irritably.
“Don’t apologize for every little thing. You look servile.”
“So, uh, mmm……”
Ruslan almost apologized saying sorry unconsciously, but barely swallowed that word down his throat just before it popped out.
Though Ruslan watched for cues not knowing what to do, Sarka didn’t open his mouth anymore.
Having lifted his water glass and taken a sip, Sarka stood up from his seat without touching anything more.
When Sarka picked up clothes to change into and entered the bathroom, Ruslan hurriedly picked at the remaining food and gathered the plates.
Going down the stairs, Ruslan looked down at Sarka’s plate that had barely emptied only about a third of the food he’d brought.
Blankly picking at the remaining food to eat, Ruslan thought of Sarka who had thrown the food he’d first brought into the fireplace without a moment’s hesitation.
His mood became strangely indescribable.
***
In the strange atmosphere of cohabitation, Ruslan was certain of one thing.
Sarka had truly accepted Ruslan as a <roommate>.
It wasn’t a ‘servant’ or a ‘dog being raised’, but strictly speaking, it could be said to be a relationship that wasn’t yet a <friend>.
Sarka gave exactly half the room to Ruslan, his <roommate>.
In the two-person bedroom that Sarka had monopolized alone, the right half was entirely Ruslan’s territory.
A luxurious personal bed, personal desk, wardrobe, nightstand, bookshelf.
Sarka didn’t interfere with whatever Ruslan did within it.
Because of this, the two-person room was split exactly in half and began to form a stark contrast.
The left, Sarka’s area, was always neat, with high-class items arranged with discipline, overflowing with dignity.
The right, Ruslan’s area, no matter how hard he tried, always had inevitable shabbiness seeping out.
Books with tattered spines had paper edges sticking out jaggedly, fluttering as one or two pages fell out whenever opening them, and bookmarks were split at the ends and spread out like fans. No matter how neatly he aligned them to insert them, the dirty and worn book spines were crooked and spotted.
Notes with ink stains all over them, a fountain pen whose cracking upper part was awkwardly attached by wrapping it with string, an ink bottle that kept leaking below so he just wrapped the bottom part tightly with a handkerchief. A nightshirt fading with age, shoes with tattered soles, and even a lint-covered muffler he’d had no choice but to take out as the weather got colder.
Ruslan’s belongings scattered among the luxurious furniture were like a picture drawn wrong.
The craftsmen who had stamped their seals on each piece of furniture might have clutched the back of their necks and collapsed if they’d seen this state, Ruslan thought sheepishly.
But Sarka didn’t say anything even while watching Ruslan gradually make one side of the room messy.
With an attitude that seemed like ignoring him in one way, and seemed like completely respecting him in another way, Sarka left Ruslan alone.
Sarka barely opened his mouth unless it was an absolutely necessary situation, and Ruslan, tense about possibly making Sarka uncomfortable by rushing at him clumsily again for no reason, couldn’t speak to him carelessly either.
Making the fact that they’d finally become real roommates meaningless, their days would hesitantly end without a single word of conversation exchanged.
