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Chapter 66
“Hey, didn’t we once listen to the rain together like this before?”
Jaelin paused a moment, then spoke.
“Oh — yes. In the cave. After we were attacked by the bear….”
“A bear? Ah, right.”
A memory she’d forgotten popped into Lionel’s mind.
“That ribbon was given to me by, um, senior after that….”
Lionel glanced at the yellow ribbon tied to the round back of Jaelin’s head. The cloth ribbon’s edges were frayed from long use.
A strange unease crept into him.
When he’d seen Jaelin blushing in the library he had honestly wondered if she still liked him. Not long after, Lionel had noticed the way she felt about him. It was impossible not to see — her eyes always overflowed with affection toward him.
She tried to hide it, but Lionel could read the feeling plainly. Jaelin still liked him.
If it had been someone else, he might have used that immediately, keeping a polite distance and taking advantage. But with Jaelin that wasn’t necessary.
She never said outright that she liked him, nor did she push her feelings onto him.
He didn’t know how deep her feelings ran, but as long as she didn’t confess first and make things awkward, he thought they could stay as comfortable as they were.
Being together felt easy, sometimes fun, and without pressure — that was just right.
Still, he couldn’t say why thinking about past memories made him uncomfortable.
Was it because Jaelin was clutching at memories he barely remembered? No — Lionel wasn’t the type to be swayed by the scale of someone else’s feelings. How much she liked him had nothing to do with him.
So it must be an emotion connected to Lionel himself. A sudden pressure tightened in his head, and he didn’t want to think any more. A thick fatigue washed over him.
“This isn’t good. It doesn’t look like it’s letting up. We should go while it eases even a little.”
“Y-yeah, you’re right.”
“I’ll walk you home.”
“I’m f-fine. My boarding house is far from here.”
“It’s late. And the rain’s heavy.”
Lionel took off his jacket, flipped it over his head, raised one arm to make a dry space, and beckoned Jaelin.
“Come here.”
Hesitant, Jaelin bowed her head and slipped under Lionel’s arm. It felt like being buried in his scent.
They dashed out into the rainy night, running silently through the rain-soaked streets.
By the time they reached Jaelin’s boarding house they were drenched; only the part sheltered by Lionel’s jacket remained almost dry.
“H-here it is.”
“Get inside quickly. You’ll catch a cold.”
“O-okay.”
“Make sure to wash with warm water and drink a warm cup of milk. You overdid it today, so do some stretching too — otherwise you’ll be sore tomorrow.”
“Y-yes. You too, senior, be careful on your way back.”
“Mm.”
Jaelin noticed Lionel’s wet bangs and forehead. She knew he’d be going back out into the rain, and wanted to take at least a little of the rain off him.
She grabbed his foot as he turned to leave.
“Se-senior.”
“Hmm?”
“Just… wait a moment.”
Jaelin stretched on tiptoe — Lionel was so tall she couldn’t reach his forehead otherwise — and used her dry sleeve to wipe the raindrops from his wet forehead and hair. It was a brief moment, but Lionel’s pupils flickered.
“T-there, it’s done.”
Lionel looked down at Jaelin for a moment, then turned back toward the street.
Running through the steady drizzle, Lionel glanced back as if to check whether Jaelin was still watching him.
Through the pouring rain, Jaelin standing under the boarding house eaves was faintly visible, waving to him.
Lionel turned and ran again into the downpour.
Jaelin waited at the doorway until she could no longer see him; only after he had completely vanished did she step inside.
As he’d told her, she washed herself in warm water. There was no milk, so she warmed some water instead, did some stretches, and lay down exhausted on the bed. She was so tired she felt as if her whole body would sink through the mattress. She wanted to sleep, but there was something she had to do.
She logged on to the community site and sent Lionel a message.
[Jaelin] Senior, did you get home okay? Thank you so much for walking me home today.
That night Jaelin dozed on and off while waiting for Lionel’s reply. She kept checking the chat window, but his reply never came.
Lionel stopped by the student council room for the first time in a while. The council was still busy and crowded.
He didn’t like crowded places much, but he knew he had to appear there occasionally. That’s how one’s influence remained intact, he reminded himself.
Besides, he was the former student council president after all. Although he visited the room far less than his title might suggest.
The student council room was noisy with the newspaper club — which was under the council — holding a meeting about the academy’s weekly bulletin to be published this week.
Of all days, Sasha and Nathan were both absent. They often acted as shields for other students, so their absence was sorely felt.
“Hello?”
When Lionel entered and greeted them, the council members all greeted him in unison.
Among them was the editor-in-chief of the newspaper, who was in the same year as Lionel.
“Oh — Lionel’s here? Long time no see.”
“Sorry, I didn’t realize you were in a meeting. Bad timing on my part, dropping in when you’re busy.”
“It’s okay, senior. Sit here.”
Rogia, who was at the meeting as part of the newspaper club, pointed to an empty chair across from her.
That was the only free seat at the table, so Lionel sat where she indicated.
“You here to decide this week’s bulletin content?”
“Yeah. We’re discussing feature ideas. Nothing good’s come up. Any ideas?”
“What would I know? You’re the chief — you should know better.”
Lionel deflected politely and let the junior keep face.
“Then maybe an article about students’ ideal types? Lionel, what do you think of that topic?”
Though asked of him out of courtesy, the topic seemed already decided.
“That could be fun. Students would like that. But how would you frame the article? ‘Ideal type’ is subjective. You can’t include everyone’s opinions.”
“We’ll pick a few qualities people look for in the opposite sex, hold a vote, and publish the results. We can add some student interviews to make it more substantial.”
“Hm, good idea.”
Lionel listened seriously and nodded in agreement.
“Lionel, what’s your ideal type?”
Rogia, who had been waiting for an opening to jump in during the conversation between the chief and Lionel, asked directly — apparently hoping to secure an interview about Lionel’s ideal type.
When the question was asked, the other students in the meeting looked at Lionel with bright, eager eyes. The chief secretly gave Rogia a thumbs-up; an interview about Lionel’s ideal type would surely make this week’s bulletin wildly popular.
“Me? Hmm. I’ve never really thought about it.”
“Surely you have at least one thing you prefer — someone who communicates well, or someone similar to you, something like that?”
Rogia pressed on while Lionel avoided the topic. In truth, he had never given his ideal type much thought.
Everything he was currently responsible for already overwhelmed him; he had no time to invest in the dreamy nonsense of love or romance.
Besides, Lionel knew someone who had fallen in love utterly. He had watched that person closely for a long time — for far too long.
That person sometimes wandered aimlessly with a haunted look, as if possessed by ghosts, or stared blankly into the void with the air of someone whose life had already ended.
He had abandoned everything and given everything away.
Things that had been invisible in his youth began to appear to him as he grew older and his perspective matured.
Sometimes that person’s eyes looked like they had given up on life — lifeless pupils. For that person, nothing else seemed to matter.
When Lionel showed a look of incomprehension, that person — his father — whispered to him,
“Don’t give me that look. You’re blood of the Eduardos. You can’t deny your blood. One day you’ll meet the person you truly desire, and then you’ll understand my feelings a little.”
Yeah. At first Lionel had felt sorry for his father. He’d lost someone he truly cherished and wanted to keep by his side forever.
Avenging the person who caused his mother’s death was only natural. But his father seemed to value nothing beyond revenge.
What was love anyway? At some point Lionel vowed never to be like that.
If that’s what love meant — that nothing else in life had value — then he would rather live ignorant of such a feeling.
