You worthless piece of sh*t, you stupid bastard. No amount of cursing himself did any good. You were already gone, and he was nothing but a fool standing alone in this spot.

The sheet music crumpled between his fingertips. The music of a stupid man who had received such a perfect love and yet believed he knew nothing of love, who believed the only warmth this world had to offer was the fleeting heat of a body in bed, crumpled along with it.

“Professor! Thank goodness you’re up.”

Just then the door swung open and Peter walked in. The moment he saw me sitting at the desk, his voice carried on with visible relief, and my mind snapped back to reality in an instant.

“Everyone was worried about what would happen if you were still too sick to get up today. You’ll need to hurry and get ready if you want to make it on time.”

Peter sensed something was off and trailed off at the end, moving quickly to my side, but I couldn’t bring myself to lift my head.

Today, at last. Danyu and Astaire were getting married.

* * *

No matter how many times he retied the necktie, the tightness around his throat wouldn’t go away. He already knew why the tightness wouldn’t leave. And so he focused all the more on the task of tying it. Because he knew he couldn’t bear it if he couldn’t at least blame the necktie for this feeling.

While that went on, again and again, Peter hovered around him without a word. For someone who normally spoke faster than he moved, it was an unusual thing. Perhaps that meant his face looked that bad. A bitter smile was all that came out at his own wretchedness.

He didn’t look in the mirror on his way out of the house either. A man dressed up in fine clothes with the face of someone half dead. He had no desire to confirm that pathetic sight for himself. Nor the destination that sight would make unmistakably clear.

The wedding of Danyu and Astaire was being held in the royal palace chapel, the same place where the Jubilion had taken place. The palace chapel was a remarkable venue, opened only for the Jubilion and royal weddings, and the decision to open it had been made with appropriate consideration given to the fact that Lady Astrid was a distant relative of the royal family and that Danyu was the Jubilion’s champion. Danyu had been overjoyed at the thought of holding her wedding in the most sacred space in the kingdom.

Unlike the day the Jubilion had been held, the chapel was decorated throughout with flowers. White roses, signifying vows and happy love. The flowers blazing brilliantly in the summer sunlight made the passage of time feel real. I was still back in that winter two years ago when the Jubilion was held, yet when had time slipped by like this? Among the people gathered in clusters, talking about the bride and groom, I alone stood apart from it all, occupying a corner by myself.

Far off among the crowd, Astaire was moving about busily. Watching him, I felt a strange sense of having been thrown back to our school days. Astaire always in the middle of people, and me always watching from a distance. Nothing had changed.

Astaire was someone accustomed to staying close to others. While I was shut away in the practice room chasing an even more perfect performance, he was always among people. Not only his university classmates but even professors known for being exacting would give him special allowance.

Astaire had told me he had been crushed by my talent, the talent he could never have, but there were times I envied his way of staying. Those were the days when the relentless forward march of my steps grew too heavy to bear, or when everything I had in my hands felt meaningless for reasons I couldn’t name. He probably never realized it himself, but the ability to make someone want to stay by your side was a precious talent in its own right.

When someone left, another person would come and fill the space beside him. Perhaps that was why, whenever I thought of Astaire, I always pictured him laughing in the middle of a crowd. But now, in my imagination, standing beside Astaire would be Danyu Astrid. You, who had once stayed beside me.

“You were sick for days, and it shows. Aren’t you pushing yourself too hard?”

While I was placing the two of them side by side in my mind, Astaire appeared before me in a tuxedo. My effort to avoid him so he wouldn’t see the turmoil inside me had come to nothing.

“It’s just my face that looks that way. I feel better than I look.”

“Well, that’s a relief, but.”

At the vague deflection, Astaire’s eyes narrowed. Even I could tell it wasn’t convincing. What part of this face, swollen from crying, could possibly look fine. But when I brazenly lifted my head and met his eyes, Astaire eventually threw his hands up.

“Take care of yourself from now on. You were young back in university so fine, but aren’t you tired of living like a wreck?”

A bitter smile formed at the casually delivered advice. It was something Astaire had said every time he saw me suffering through a hangover since we graduated. Hearing it made the fact that I had stayed in the same place, unchanged, for so long feel very real. More vividly than even the sight of the transformed chapel.

When did I start standing here, staring blankly at other people’s faces? From some long-ago time I couldn’t remember, I had been standing in this very spot. While I stood there in a daze, my legs forgot how to run with any strength, and as more time passed, they forgot even how to walk in peace.

In the meantime, countless people had passed me by. Danyu, Astaire. Before I knew it, when I came to my senses, everyone was standing far away, looking back at me. How hard would I have to run to catch up to you all? If I ran my whole life and still couldn’t reach that place, then my life had no choice but to end like this, collapsed on the ground.

“Yeah. You’re right. I need to change too.”

“That’s not like you.”

“Is it a problem if I respond nicely for once?”

“It’s just strange seeing you be so agreeable. It doesn’t suit you. That’s all.”

The word strange felt so welcome, and that was because I had a burning desire to shed the person I used to be. I looked at Astaire with a genuine smile, and he gave a slightly awkward smile back and gave my shoulder a light pat, the way you would to encourage someone. Encouragement, when he had no idea what I was thinking. It was a very Astaire thing to do.

“Oh, right. Did you finish the piece?”

“How did you know?”

But the smile that had filled my face vanished at the words that followed. He hadn’t anticipated my sharp reaction, and he waved his hand in confusion.

“The piece you’re writing? When I came by a few days ago you said you’d been losing sleep over it.”

“Ah. Right, I suppose I did.”

Only then did I remember Astaire coming to the house full of discarded sheet music. As the stiffness in my face eased, the ease returned to Astaire’s as well. In fact, there was even a faint mischief playing across his expression.

“What kind of piece is so incredible that the Sio Lieselotte loses sleep over it? You never used to get stuck when you were composing.”

“It’s my first time writing something like this. I did finish it, though.”

Saying that, I slipped my hand into my pocket and felt the rustling texture of paper at my fingertips. It was almost funny that I had thought to bring this sheet music even in the rush of leaving the house. What would Astaire say if he saw this piece I had written thinking of Danyu. Maybe instead of words, a fist would come flying at my face first. Because the feeling that filled every note of this piece was unmistakably love and devotion.

While I ran my fingertips over the corner of the sheet music again and again, someone called Astaire’s name from across the room. I glanced over and saw an unfamiliar face waving at him. Astaire gave a brief bow in that direction, then turned back to me.

“Sorry, Sio. I have to go over there. It’s that kind of day, so there are quite a few people looking for me. You haven’t seen Miss Danyu yet, have you? Go on. If you don’t show your face, you’ll have a hard time dealing with the fallout later.”

Astaire pushed me toward a small door at the side of the chapel. I turned to protest at being shoved, but Astaire was already far away. I watched him disappear back into the crowd, then slowly began to walk.

In truth, the waiting room where Danyu would be was the first place I had meant to go the moment I arrived at the wedding. I had only been circling around because my heavy feet refused to move, but once I was pushed into taking that first step, the rest came easily. I reached the door in no time and knocked lightly. It was almost laughable that I had been circling around, unable to cross this short a distance.

The maid who heard the knock opened the door. The moment she saw my face, her mouth, which had been about to ask the perfunctory question of who I was, closed shut.

“Please come in.”

I passed the maid as she stepped aside to let me through, and caught sight of Danyu’s back as she sat before a large mirror. The pure white dress, like a white rose, clashed against her red hair and dazzled the eye. My gaze traveled past her elegantly pinned red hair to the mirror, and Danyu’s face reflected in it came into view in turn. My feet stopped without me realizing it. The fact that the girl I remembered from those days was nowhere in that spot felt so utterly unfamiliar.