TPCF 03

Chapter 3  Maybe it was both.

People who saw Anita and Rutger together often assumed they were more than friends, yet not quite lovers. But from Anita’s perspective, their relationship was purely hierarchical—one of dominance and submission.

Anita’s window was always tightly shut, but Rutger entered with ease. In contrast, Rutger’s window was always open, yet to Anita, it felt like an impenetrable barrier meant only for her.

To Rutger, Anita was just one of many people orbiting around him. But to Anita, Rutger was the only one.

He would barge in whenever he felt like it, stir her up, and then leave. Every time he disappeared, a deep void would crash down on Anita.

So she had run away, crossing half the empire to distance herself from him.

“Let’s talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

Anita had only come out to buy a sandwich. She’d chosen not to sit in the open dining area with its wide glass windows because she feared she might run into Rutger. And yet, Rutger Veilan, with eyes sharper than an eagle’s, had managed to track her down anyway.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“What do you mean, what’s wrong?”

Even as she replied curtly, Anita felt disgusted with herself for worrying if Rutger might be hurt by her tone.

“You’ve been avoiding me ever since you got here.”

That wasn’t true. Anita had been trying to avoid him long before she came to the Valder region. It was just that Rutger had never noticed—because he never paid her any attention. Now that they were in a new environment, he was finally picking up on something different.

Turning away from Rutger, Anita thought bitterly to herself.

“Did I do something wrong?”

She didn’t look back. The truth was, this wasn’t entirely Rutger’s fault. In the twelve years they had known each other, he had been consistently indifferent. But Anita wasn’t blameless either—she had foolishly clung to that indifference for twelve whole years.

“No. You didn’t do anything.”

Fortunately or unfortunately, Rutger didn’t try to stop her as she turned her back and walked away. He never did. As if he had nothing to lose. As if, because Anita was the one to turn away first, everything was entirely her fault.

Pressing her fingers to her throbbing forehead, Anita made her way to a wooded path and collapsed onto a bench. Classes hadn’t even properly started yet, and she was already exhausted. She seriously considered transferring schools. Sure, her path had overlapped with Rutger’s once—but it didn’t have to happen again.

She unwrapped her sandwich and took a bite. The students had raved about this place—the crisp lettuce, the fresh tomato, and the savory ham were supposedly so good they brought tears to your eyes. But to Anita, it was just… fine.

She had always eaten to live, not lived to eat. Even the act of chewing felt like a chore.

She was chewing absentmindedly when something bright red popped into her peripheral vision.

“Anita!”

Why was her name being called so often today? Anita wanted to deny that her name was Anita Rodel. Just like lettuce didn’t have a name and was simply called “lettuce,” she wished people would just call her “you.” Then maybe she could at least pretend she didn’t hear and keep walking.

Lost in these pointless thoughts, she suddenly noticed the red thing in front of her eyes was shaking wildly. Annoyed, Anita focused her blurry gaze.

A rose?

Just then, the rose was whisked away—and replaced with a face full of grease.

“Oh, Anita. You’re beautiful as always.”

She was doomed. This life was doomed.

Looking at the man with bulging frog-like eyes, a face flushed red as if he drank alcohol by the crate, and unnecessarily plump lips, Anita sighed in despair.

His tie looked like it was strangling him, and perhaps because of that, his voice came out high and thin. Clearing his throat, he knelt on one knee in front of her.

“Anita, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. Your black eyes gleam like obsidian, and your skin is pale as a blank sheet of paper.”

Anita looked down at the man—whose name she couldn’t even remember—with conflicted eyes. She had only asked him for directions on the day of the entrance ceremony. That was all. But he had demanded her name, her department, and even asked if she had a boyfriend.

He hadn’t even given her directions.

“Your black hair is like the cloak of a reaper sent to collect me.”

Pale as paper. Cloak of a reaper.

Anita couldn’t tell whether this man was just tragically bad at expressing himself, or if he was insulting her in a very roundabout way. Either way, it was awful.

“Oh, my goddess. Won’t you come to me now?”

The sound of whistling and giggles around them made Anita squeeze her eyes shut.

Is this how Rutger had felt?

Whenever her unwanted feelings for him accidentally showed, had Rutger felt this same discomfort? No—his situation would have been worse. They were neighbors, and their families were very close.

With that realization, Anita couldn’t quite bring herself to hate the man in front of her completely.

To make matters worse, some spectators were now starting to gather around. All Anita had wanted was a ham sandwich. Why was life so difficult?

Come to think of it, something like this had happened a few years ago too.

Anita had been attending Rosetta Hall, a girls’ school, while Rutger had been at Penon Hall, a boys’ school. Though technically separate, both schools belonged to the same foundation and were located right next to each other. The students often mingled.

At the time, Anita had been studying for an upcoming exam when a shadow suddenly loomed over her book.

Is there an eclipse? she’d thought.

If only it had been an eclipse. Unfortunately, it was one of Rutger’s friends who had been pestering her recently. They had bumped into each other once on campus, and ever since then, he had been way too interested in her.

“Why don’t we go out? I’ll treat you well.”

“Sorry. I’ll have to decline.”