Rudy froze for a moment, staring at Allen, listening to him spout one vulgar word after another—words Rudy had only ever heard from him on the night of the affair.
The forced smile on Rudy's face gradually disappeared.
His expression twitched a few times as he met Allen's unblinking gaze.
Suddenly, he gritted his teeth and exploded!
With a swift motion, he grabbed Allen by the collar!
He instinctively used wind magic, flipped Allen around, and slammed him against the wardrobe!
Allen froze—he hadn't expected Rudy to pull such a macho move.
Then, right by his ear, came Rudy's urgent and exasperated voice.
"You're asking me, Allen? You're asking me??"
"Is Roxy-sensei's heart set on me?"
"You're asking me what to do?"
"Fine! I'll tell you right now—I'm not like you, always thinking about protecting everyone, always wanting everyone to smile. I know myself well enough: if I were Paul, I'd probably end up just as pathetic, maybe even on my knees crying, begging Lilia and Zenith for forgiveness."
"I know full well that everyone handled things terribly that night!"
"But in the end, who solved the problem? Wasn't it you? You were the one who did the best out of all of us!"
"You're the one who always says the right things, right? The one who always gets things done?"
"You're the one who wants to be perfect, to protect everyone."
"Aren't you proud enough?"
"Then move!"
"Have you forgotten how you solved the problem that night?"
"Didn't you tell us to respect Zenith, to see her as a living, breathing person?"
"To ask her what she really thought? To stand in her shoes?"
"To ask for her forgiveness, and then leave the choice in her hands? To give her respect?"
Allen frowned, about to speak.
But Rudy cut him off.
"You want to respect them? Shouldn't you ask how they feel? Let them choose?"
"Isn't that what you taught us that night? So why can't you do it yourself?"
"Or is it… you don't have the confidence?"
Silence filled the air.
Allen's gaze went blank, as though lost in thought, staring up at the ceiling.
Rudy also froze, looking at Allen's face.
The anger from being outmaneuvered by Allen's questioning slowly cooled, replaced by clarity.
He looked down at his hand clutching Allen's collar and paused.
Awkwardly, he let go.
Could Allen have resisted?
Of course.
But he hadn't moved at all—just listened until Rudy was finished.
It seemed… he was actually listening.
Rudy grinned sheepishly and scratched his head.
A moment later, he simply sat down on a nearby chair.
Still… what he'd just said was all nonsense, born from a sudden rush of anger, turning Allen's own way of speaking back on him.
It wasn't really advice—
More like… a complaint.
Damn, what now?
Am I… going to get iced out by Allen and Sylphy from now on?
"…Presumptuous kindness, huh."
Hearing Allen mutter, Rudy turned in surprise.
Allen was leaning against the desk, still looking up at the ceiling, his face calm—none of the sharpness from earlier remained.
His voice floated in the air toward Rudy.
"Sorry."
"…No, I should be the one apologizing. You're right, Allen. If Father had been more like you, maybe Mother wouldn't have cried that night. Ehehe… Why did we even start arguing? I wasn't planning on it when I came here. If Sylphy overheard, she'd laugh at us… hahaha…"
Rudy's laugh froze on his face.
He turned wide-eyed to Allen, who now glanced back at him in equal surprise.
The next instant—both reached for the door at the same time, bumping heads.
"Ow!"
Allen immediately used Flowing Technique to send Rudy stumbling back.
With a creak, the door opened.
Allen leaned out—and visibly relaxed.
Rudy quickly followed.
Sylphy's door was still firmly shut.
They exchanged a glance, then quietly walked toward it.
But after just a couple steps, Rudy bumped into Allen's back again.
Puzzled, he looked up.
Allen's body was stiff.
Leaning to the side, Rudy saw it—
At the end of the hallway stood a figure in a white dress, silently watching them.
Rudy's stomach dropped. He turned stiffly toward Allen, feeling as if he'd caused him to spill everything too soon.
But Allen was merely frowning slightly at Sylphy.
Wait… why was she out here at this hour?
Rudy turned to call her over—
But Allen moved first.
He strode down the hallway, light and shadow from the lamps sweeping over him.
It seemed like only a few steps before he reached her.
Rudy had to jog to catch up.
Allen stopped in front of Sylphy, first lowering his gaze to her feet.
Only then did Rudy notice—she wasn't wearing shoes.
She was barefoot.
Allen crouched down, examining her feet.
The tops were smooth, but the soles were smudged with patches of dust—some darker, some lighter.
He looked up at her.
It had been two and a half years since their first meeting in Buena Village.
Now, crouched down, Allen could no longer meet Sylphy's eyes at level—he was just half a face shorter.
And because of that, tilting his head up, he could see her eyes fully, unobscured by her white hair.
Her reddish-brown eyes were dull, but when she saw him looking, a spark of life returned.
Their gazes locked.
"Why aren't you wearing shoes?"
Sylphy looked at his face.
He used to talk to her like this often, but for the past half year, it had been rare to see his eyes so easily.
That familiar deep gray—
She had just seen them earlier.
Sylphy averted her gaze.
"…Forgot."
Allen studied her for a moment, then looked at her feet again, leaning forward slightly—
But stopped.
He straightened up.
"Let's go. The floor's cold."
"Okay."
They turned toward the teacher's dormitory.
Rudy fell back a step, glancing between Allen and Sylphy's backs, the corners of his mouth curling into a harmless smile.
When Sylphy had washed her feet and put on slippers, the three stood before their respective doors.
"See you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow."
With that, Rudy slipped into his room.
The remaining two stood with hands on their doorknobs, looking at each other's doors.
Time passed in a heartbeat—or an eternity.
Then Sylphy's soft voice came, almost a whisper.
"…Allen, did Rudy tell you? That it was my idea for Madam to come teach etiquette?"
"Mm. He said it was his idea."
"…I see."
"I feel like I messed some things up."
"No."
Sylphy turned to him.
Allen met her gaze, focused.
"No?"
"You didn't mess up at all. What you both did was precious."
"I like it a lot."
"…Then that's good."
"See you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow."
The sound of doors opening almost in unison—then closing.
Sylphy leaned back against her door, sliding down to sit on the floor.
"…Didn't mess up?"
She buried her head in her knees.
Allen tilted his head as if "looking" at her—
With only a wall between them.
Just one wall between them.
(End of Chapter)
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