Miss, stop committing suicide

Chapter 7

The ceiling.

A small but ornate chandelier hung from the pure white ceiling.

Around the chandelier was a pattern that rippled like waves.

It resembled clouds.

When something resembling the sky blocks your view of the actual sky, it feels suffocating.

If the ceiling were simply painted white, it wouldn’t feel as deceptive as this vague artwork.

I don’t like it.

Now that I think about it, the sharp pain I felt when I breathed in and out was gone.

Curious, I touched my neck, surprised to find that it felt perfectly fine.

The amazement quickly faded, replaced by suspicion.

Who brought me here? Where exactly is this?

And why am I even here in the first place?

I remembered Lydia tormenting me. I had been walking, exhausted, trying to make my way back to my room.

Though “tormenting” feels like too mild a word for it.

Still, I clearly remembered up to that point.

Then someone blocked my way, and I collapsed from sheer exhaustion.

When I woke up, I was here.

I pushed aside the neatly tucked blanket that covered me and sat up.

My body felt fresh.

There wasn’t a trace of sweat or the distinct odor of unwashed skin, even though I was sure I’d been drenched in cold sweat earlier. My clothes were clean too.

Did a maid, while tidying the streets, pick me up?

Could a maid even use healing magic? Or maybe they could?

I wasn’t sure. It didn’t feel like the world was set up with that level of detail.

Perhaps some people were simply learning magic.

Not that it mattered.

Next, I noticed a fragrant aroma. Coffee.

Freshly roasted beans filled the room with a rich, distinctive scent.

Turning my head, I saw a steaming cup of coffee on the table beside me, its smell so enticing it made my mouth water.

I hadn’t been able to drink coffee for a while because I couldn’t afford decent beans.

Still, not knowing what might be in it, I decided to pass.

“What’s going on here?”

Having never experienced anything like this, my mind wandered to dramatic possibilities. Could I have been kidnapped?

If so, I was being treated far too well.

There were no silver restraints on my wrists or ankles, no collar tying me to anything.

The bookshelf was full of books, and the room was an ordinary dorm room.

It wouldn’t be hard to leave.

So, someone must have brought me here out of concern.

I must have looked pretty awful.

I had been drenched in sweat, struggling to breathe, completely worn out.

When would this frail body of mine ever recover?

I could sit on the bed and ponder metaphysical nonsense like “Who am I?” or “Is what I see real?”

But I wanted to leave this place.

Sliding my feet into the slippers neatly placed on the floor, I walked toward the door.

Now that I think about it, even the wounds on my feet no longer stung.

A maid, or someone else, must have used healing magic on them too.

How embarrassing. Bare feet can feel oddly sensual yet unpleasant at the same time.

I glanced at the books on the shelf.

They were all about magic.

Books full of alien languages I wouldn’t understand even if someone opened them for me.

“Are you awake? You suddenly collapsed and gave me a real scare.”

The voice cleared up all the questions swirling in my mind.

I turned toward the sound and saw someone emerge from an inner room.

A man. Taller than me by a head, pale as if he hadn’t seen sunlight and spent his time locked indoors, studying.

Describing his face in detail was too much effort, so to put it simply—he was fairly good-looking.

Eyes where they should be, a nose exactly where it belonged—he had a proper face.

But wait. Wasn’t this the guy who might not end up with Vivian in the end?

And wasn’t he just one of three similarly well-formed men constantly orbiting Vivian?

Maybe I should’ve kept reading until the conclusion.

The story was absurd, though—so inconsistent and juvenile that a perfectly respectable noble family crumbled overnight.

It got so stale at one point I couldn’t bear to read any further.

Well, I lived in this world now, anyway.

Evan scratched the back of his head awkwardly and stuffed his restless hands into his pockets.

“…Oh. Evan.”

“The coffee on the table—it’s your favorite, right?

I just brewed it, so it’s still warm. If you prefer it cold, I can add some ice.”

He smiled awkwardly, trying to keep the conversation going. His demeanor was stiff, like a poorly tuned automaton.

It was hard to tell what he wanted to say. He opened and closed his mouth several times as if words were caught in his throat.

After I slapped Vivian’s cheek, comforted her pitiful self, and received a thorny scolding the next day, my family had collapsed spectacularly without rhyme or reason.

That girl left this world, and now I am here.

No wonder things were awkward.

I sat back on the bed, picked up the coffee cup, and inhaled its aroma.

I sipped cautiously, letting the bitter flavor and fragrance linger in my mouth before swallowing.

“Tastes good.”

“Really? It’s the kind you once recommended to me.”

“It’s been a while since I could have something like this.”

Silence followed, broken only by the sound of me sipping the coffee.

An uncomfortable, awkward relationship.

“I heard about your father… yesterday.

I also read about what happened to your family in the papers.”

Evan had always been like this.

No tact, bringing up whatever crossed his mind.

I didn’t know how to respond, so I nodded slightly, silently pleading for him to drop the subject.

What did it matter now what happened to my father or how he was?

A bit of comfort would be nice, but I doubted Evan would offer that.

“Yeah.”

Before Vivian, or even after meeting her, Evan and this girl had been close friends.

They were childhood playmates, after all.

Sometimes, I’d even dream of moments when Evan and this girl played together, or when she started to fall for him.

I personally had no interest in Evan, but it seemed this girl still harbored feelings for him.

Her tone betrayed a lingering sting with every word she spoke to him.

It made me want to stop distinguishing between myself and her—but how could I?

Time might resolve everything.

Though I wasn’t sure I had the strength to endure until then.

“Thanks for helping me.”

Evan shrugged in response.

Come to think of it, I collapsed because he blocked my path and wouldn’t let me pass.

I vaguely remembered him mumbling something at the time, but I’d been too exhausted to hear clearly.

“Were you looking for me?”

“Yeah. About what happened with Vivian before… I think I was too harsh with my words, so I was trying to apologize.

Vivian also said she was worried about you.”

“Oh, so you thought I shut myself away because of you?”

My tone sharpened involuntarily.

I didn’t think I was a particularly emotional person, but apparently, this girl was.

Something about being in front of Evan always brought this out in her.

Even though my words were as cold as frost, he answered without flinching.

“Yeah. That, and… I read the paper.

I thought you might be sad. Everything you had is gone now. Even me.

You know why I don’t like Vivian, don’t you?”

“…”

“I’m kidding.”

But the air was far from joking.

Ironically, that made it clear he meant it.

Perhaps I shouldn’t have said anything at all.

When I finished my coffee, Evan quietly refilled my cup.

As I stared at the rising steam, he spoke again.

“Your lips and throat were burned earlier. Why?”

What excuse could I make?

There was no way to explain the burns convincingly, so I dodged the question.

“Maybe I burned them while drinking hot coffee or something.”

“And the cuts on your feet?”

“Maybe I accidentally stepped on some thorns.”

He frowned.

“If you’re hurt, get it treated.”

“By who?”

“Ask your friends. Lydia, wasn’t it?

That girl you always hung around with—why not ask her or Vivian?”

He stopped mid-sentence.

At least there didn’t seem to be any immediate trouble.

I wasn’t dragged here by strangers, nor did I sense any threat. If things got uncomfortable, I could simply retreat to this cozy room.

“Right. Why didn’t I think of that?

We were just laughing and playing together at lunch, after all.

Oh, how silly of me, ha-ha.”

They say there are countless reasons behind extreme choices—unrequited love, incurable illness.

Yet, amidst the plausible causes listed in newspapers, it’s worth asking:

Did a friend ever reply to someone in despair with casual indifference?

That person would be the real culprit.

A hauntingly poignant line.

The dam of emotions cracked by Lydia’s torment had collapsed entirely now, and speaking with Evan brought forth all my buried resentment and weariness.

He noticed my expression and hesitated before murmuring:

“If you ever need someone to turn to, come to me.”

“To you?”

“Because I’m worried about you.”

Ah, how kind of him.

I must have looked truly unstable.

“Haha.”

The words made me smile involuntarily.

Evan, on the other hand, looked unnerved.

This girl had never heard such words before.

Evan had never said such things to her before, either.

Not that I deserved such concern. Or, well, not anymore.

“I’ll go now. Thanks for the coffee.”

As I stood, dizziness washed over me, but I made my way to the door.

As I slipped on my shoes, Evan’s voice called out from behind.

“I can make coffee anytime you want. Just let me know.” Without answering, I left the room.

I could feel his piercing gaze burning into my back.

Remembering the polite façades we exchanged, I recalled something Vivian once said:

This is what it truly means to be at odds.

Both parties knowing yet doing nothing.