"I trust you," Lilliana said resolutely, gaze steady as she looked into Soren's crimson eyes, still damp around the edges but clear in a way that mattered.
"Really?"
The word came out more uncertain than he meant it to, like he was checking whether the ground would hold before putting his weight on it.
"I admit, it sounds like fiction," she replied, voice calm, "but I don't think you'd lie about this, and besides, Miss Olivia told me something a while ago, she said the reason you all won against that dark elf was that you knew about him for some reason."
"Ah, yeah…"
Soren's shoulders loosened a fraction, the mention of Olivia and Murmur acting like a small bridge between what he had said and something Lilliana could actually place in reality.
"It is a bit funny that you contradicted yourself so fast, though," Lilliana added with a soft laugh, the sound cautious at first, then warmer as she let it exist.
"Huh?"
"Before, you said you didn't know how it all happened," she pointed out, eyes narrowing slightly with amusement, "then out of nowhere you explained everything."
"Oh…"
He scratched the back of his head, awkwardness flickering over his face.
"Sorry."
"I'm not looking for an apology."
Her tone was immediate, gentle but firm.
"If anything, I'm glad you decided to tell me. It makes me feel trusted."
"I do trust you," Soren said without missing a beat.
Lilliana just smiled at his words, not teasing him for it, not making it bigger than it was, simply accepting it.
"Ren?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you."
Heat rushed to his cheeks with no warning, and it annoyed him more than it should have, because he couldn't even pretend it was intentional.
He averted his gaze and nodded slightly, clearing his throat as if that would reset his face.
"Ahem, we should drink before it gets cold."
"...It's already cold," Lilliana muttered.
He pretended not to hear, lifted the teacup to his lips, and immediately regretted it.
'Ugh…'
The tea, now ice cold, tasted awful, bitter in a way that wasn't the pleasant kind, but it did its job anyway, cooling his mind enough to remind him why he had been walking through those corridors before she grabbed him.
The cup clinked softly as he set it back down, and he turned slightly toward her, deciding that if he was going to force normal back into existence, he might as well start by asking for help instead of trying to shoulder everything alone.
"Lilly? Can you help me with something?"
"I don't mind."
She tilted her head.
"What's wrong?"
He paused, searching for the shape of the thought.
"...Over the past week, it wasn't just you acting strangely, right?"
Lilliana nodded, guilt flickering across her face so quickly it was almost reflex.
"Yeah… that's why you looked like that," she murmured quietly, as if the memory of his expression physically hurt.
"Well, the thing is, I want things to go back to normal," Soren said, forcing himself to speak plainly. "I thought some people might come to talk to me today since I took care of things, but everyone still seems to be keeping their distance."
"That makes sense…" Lilliana's brows drew together. "Even if they're back to themselves, they still remember what happened."
"Exactly."
Soren's fingers tapped once against the table, impatient energy looking for somewhere to go.
"So I was thinking the likely problem is that the others feel awkward around me. They think they suddenly started acting like that, but they don't have any explanation, and I can't exactly walk up and say 'by the way, you were cursed by a bishop of envy.'"
His mouth twisted.
"So the only thing I could think of is to throw a party."
"...Huh?" Lilliana exclaimed, the sound sharp enough to snap the room's calm.
"What?"
"I was on the same page as you for most of that," she said slowly, staring at him like he had taken a wrong turn mid-sentence, "I'm sure the others feel guilty toward you, and that's why they haven't said anything yet, but why did a party suddenly show up?"
"...Isn't that obvious?" Soren asked, genuinely confused.
"No?"
"If everyone is together and given alcohol, tensions will naturally loosen," he said as if it was basic arithmetic, "and if they see that I'm trying to talk to them, wouldn't they be less anxious?"
Lilliana's eyebrow furrowed, skepticism written plainly across her face, then after a moment she nodded anyway, because she could follow the logic even if she didn't like how confident he was about it.
"That… makes more sense than I thought."
"Exactly." Soren smiled, relief sparking at having a plan again. "So I wanted your help. If I invited everyone to the clubroom and said there was going to be a party, a few of them would flake, but if you said they had to come for club activities or something, then I think things would be different."
"As I said earlier, I'll help," Lilliana replied hesitantly, "but I don't know much about parties, so try not to rely on me too much."
"Don't worry about that." Soren waved it off. "Just trust me."
••✦ ♡ ✦•••
"Do you really think this'll work?" Lilliana asked cautiously, looking around the clubroom with that same expression she wore when she suspected a student was about to do something reckless.
Strewn around the dining room and living room were the decorations they had bought yesterday on the way back, nothing overly lavish, just enough that it would be obvious there was an "event" rather than an ordinary evening, streamers still in their packaging, small hanging charms, a soft cloth meant for the dining table, a few little things that would make the space look warmer.
"It's fine, isn't it?" Soren replied, already unpacking groceries into cupboards as if speed could stop his thoughts from catching up with him. "It's not like we're celebrating anything. It's just for fun."
"…I guess…" Lilliana murmured, sounding unconvinced in the way someone sounded when they were preparing to be proven wrong.
Soren didn't answer right away, he just kept unpacking, because if he paused too long, the silence would turn into thinking, and thinking would turn into that same uncomfortable heaviness he was trying to scrub out of his chest.
The last of the snacks went into the cupboard.
He shut it with a little more force than necessary.
"Okay," he said, clapping his hands once like a commander signalling a new phase of battle. "Decorations go up, food goes out, drinks stay… somewhere safe."
Lilliana blinked.
"Somewhere safe?"
Soren glanced toward the table where the bottles sat.
"Somewhere Felix and Essy can't immediately reach the moment they walk in."
"That's not safe," she said flatly. "That's just delaying the inevitable."
Soren grinned as he pulled out plates.
"Exactly. Delaying the inevitable is the foundation of civilisation."
Lilliana stared at him for a long second, then her gaze dropped to the decorations scattered around the living room area, the streamers, the tape, the tablecloth, hands hovering as if she was bracing for something unseen.
Soren noticed.
He didn't comment on it directly, didn't point out that she was still tense or still scared, because he could see how easily she would fold in on herself if he did.
Instead, he moved closer and nudged one of the streamer packs toward her with a gentle push.
"Here, you're in charge of making it look like a party."
Lilliana's ears twitched.
"Why am I in charge?"
"Because I'm in charge of cooking," Soren replied immediately. "We all have roles."
"It better be tasty…"
"I'll try my best to live up to your standards, Professor."
A tiny huff left her, dangerously close to a laugh, and she turned away, unrolling tape with careful fingers.
Soren watched her for half a second longer than necessary, not because he thought she would mess it up, but because even now, even after the café conversation, she still moved like she was afraid of taking up space, like she was trying to make herself small enough that nobody could get hurt by her presence.
He didn't like it.
So he kept the room moving instead, grabbed the tablecloth and flicked it out over the dining table with a dramatic flourish, letting it billow like a stage curtain.
It landed slightly crooked.
Lilliana glanced over.
Soren immediately adjusted it with aggressive precision, smoothing the edges like his dignity depended on it.
"…Ren," Lilliana said cautiously.
"What?"
"You're acting like this is a life-or-death operation."
"It is," Soren replied without hesitation.
Lilliana's brows furrowed.
"How?"
"If this fails, it'll take too long for things to return to normal."
Lilliana stared at him as if expecting him to backtrack, then slowly nodded like she understood completely.
"...True."
"Then let's do our best, okay, Lilly?"
His voice softened just enough to be real.
"I'm counting on you."
She shook her head, but the tension in her shoulders eased slightly as she went back to taping streamers along the wall, and Soren took that small victory and ran with it, because momentum was the only thing keeping him from sinking.
Food went out next.
Nothing complicated, he wasn't trying to prove anything, but enough that people could sit and pick at things without feeling like they had to commit to a full meal, small pastries, snacks, a few savoury dishes that didn't require utensils if someone didn't want their hands occupied, the kind of spread that suggested 'stay a while' without saying it out loud.
Every now and then, his eyes flicked to the clock.
Then to the plates.
Then to the clock again.
Lilliana noticed.
"You're nervous," she said quietly.
Soren's hands paused.
He considered lying, then decided it was pointless.
"A little," he admitted, then quickly added, "but mostly I'm just… impatient."
Lilliana's ears drooped slightly.
"What if they don't come?"
His jaw tightened for a fraction of a second; he forced it loose again.
"They'll come."
He said it like a fact, not a hope, because if he let it sound like hope, it would crumble in his mouth.
Lilliana didn't look convinced, but she didn't argue either, pressing another piece of tape down, smoothing it with her thumb until it stuck properly, taking care with tiny things as if that could keep larger things from falling apart.
Soren turned back to the counter.
"Alright, we need cups, and water, lots of water."
Lilliana's eyes flicked to him.
"Planning to get everyone wasted?"
"Planning to not have anyone die," Soren corrected.
That made her blink, then her face tightened with recognition.
"We really did go too far last time…"
Soren winced as the memory tried to resurface, that night at the bar where they had gone all out without a single care in the world, and he cleared his throat, pointing at the drinks.
"This time is controlled," he declared. "We're being mature."
Lilliana's gaze slid toward the bottles again.
"And you think Mr Felix and Miss Esper will allow that?"
Soren stared at her.
Lilliana stared back.
Then they both sighed at the same time, identical resignation.
"…We'll try our best."
Soren set the bottles on a higher shelf, stepped back, and evaluated.
Lilliana tilted her head.
"That's not high enough."
Soren squinted.
"It's fine."
Lilliana walked over, stood on her toes, and still reached it easily, then looked at him with a quiet, judgmental expression that said more than words ever could.
"If I can reach it, everyone can."
Soren clicked his tongue and moved them higher.
"There," he said, brushing his hands together. "Is that better?"
Lilliana nodded once, approving.
For a moment, it almost felt normal.
Almost.
Then Lilliana's hands stilled around the tape roll.
"…Ren," she said again, softer this time.
Soren didn't look up, but his attention sharpened instantly.
"Yeah?"
"…Should I go find them now? Like you said."
'Right…'
He wiped his hands on a cloth and nodded.
"Yeah. Let's do it now while I'm still setting up. If you wait too long, they'll already make plans."
Lilliana hesitated, and Soren turned slightly, catching her expression.
She wasn't unsure about how to ask them.
She was unsure about what it meant, about calling everyone into the same room after what happened, after the weird week, after the guilt, after all the words they still hadn't said.
Soren softened his voice.
"Lilly, just treat it like a gathering."
Her eyes flickered.
"That's what I'm scared of," she admitted quietly. "If I make it sound too serious, they'll assume it's… about that."
Soren paused, thinking.
Then nodded slowly.
"…Then don't make it serious," he decided. "Make it annoying."
Lilliana blinked.
"Annoying?"
"Yes," Soren said with absolute confidence. "If it sounds like a normal club thing, Felix will complain but show up, Essy will show up just to tick her name off, Amelia will show up because she doesn't like being left out, Olivia will show up because she's nice, and Alex will show up because Olivia's showing up."
Lilliana stared at him like he had just recited a battle plan.
"…That's strangely accurate."
Soren shrugged.
"It would be harder not to know how everyone thinks after being around them so long."
He pointed at the table like it was a podium.
"Please invite them, Professor Roseblood."
Lilliana's ears twitched at the title.
"Don't call me that."
"Invite them, Lilly."
She sighed, then went to the entrance, put on her shoes, and turned back toward him.
"...I'll be back soon."
"Thank you," Soren said sincerely.
"..."
She turned, and he saw it, the smile on her face still strained, still carrying the weight of everything that wasn't fixed yet.
••✦ ♡ ✦•••
After Lilliana left, the clubroom felt too big.
Soren paced, a slight anxiety lodged in his chest, not sharp enough to be panic, but persistent enough that it made him restless, because even with a plan, he couldn't stop worrying, couldn't stop imagining each outcome like his mind was determined to test how much he could handle.
What if they didn't show up?
What if things didn't fix themselves?
What if their friendship broke and the room stayed empty and quiet forever?
He was scared.
He didn't want to lose everyone he had grown so close to, not over something so minor, not over something that hadn't even been real, because truthfully, even though he had been hurt while everyone was influenced by [Dark Energy], he never held it against them.
It wasn't their fault.
It was Morcant's.
And he had already solved that problem.
He just wanted everything to go back to normal.
So he kept moving.
More cups set out.
Napkins stacked.
Plates arranged.
Then he stepped back and assessed the room.
It wasn't flashy or expensive.
But it looked… warm.
The soft decorations Lilliana chose made it warmer, the food made it inviting, and the deliberate absence of anything "serious" made it feel possible, like laughter could exist here again without immediately turning into apology.
Soren looked at the door.
Then at the clock again.
He waited for Lilliana to return, standing in the quiet for another minute, then another, attention sharpening at every distant footstep outside the clubroom, heartbeat jumping stupidly each time the hallway made a noise.
Then—
Knock. Knock.
A firm knock sounded against the clubroom door.
————「❤︎」————