Laura remembers that day.
The day Professor Antorelli acknowledged her.
The man who, more than anyone else, took a sharp attitude towards the students he taught and coldly evaluated their achievements.
The day he recognized Laura von Adelheit, her immature self.
It was on that day that the fading identity of Laura, who was secretly dying inside, firmly took root deep within her.
Laura cannot forget that day. She will probably never forget it for her entire lifetime.
“……”
Laura opened her closed eyes. The same darkness welcomed her.
With all sources of light blocked, her figure, curled up on the luxurious and soft bed, was so pitiful it was hard to imagine it belonged to the proud Laura von Adelheit.
After maintaining that position for a long time, her whole body became stiff, screaming at even the slightest movement. Reluctantly, Laura buried her head into her knees again.
– Knock knock.
A cautious knocking sound echoed. Laura, curled up like a turtle, showed no signs of movement.
– …Laura.
It might have been different in the past, but at that moment, it was a voice she didn’t want to hear even if it meant death. The voice that had devastated her mind.
And, the voice of the father she once loved more than anyone as family. That voice belonged to Maximilian von Adelheit.
– Wake up.
Laura did not respond. She felt no value in answering.
It was unimaginable that he could commit such terrible acts; he was far too vile a human being. His past actions left no trace of acknowledgment; he was a disgusting hypocrite, so different inside and out that the warm demeanor he usually showed could have been a mask.
That was the assessment Laura had of Maximilian at that point in time. The reason for her extreme thinking was not simply that her father caused Professor Antorelli pain.
It was the cold, stinging feeling of contempt. The betrayal that dug deep into her chest. The dark side of a figure she had loved as family and followed as a father.
What hurt the most was hearing him brazenly utter, “He’s a person with very poor mental condition,” after committing such acts against Professor Antorelli. Laura found that utterly revolting.
Did her mother know about this? Laura was unbearably curious, but she did not want to destroy the family unit, so she let it go.
– Laura. Do not make your father anxious… At the very least, let me hear your breath…
Despite Maximilian’s earnest words, Laura held her breath, indifferent.
It was as if she would never let him hear her breath.
Soon, a rustling sound came from the door as someone stood up. Laura glanced at the clock.
‘Two hours…’
The Duke. The head of the Adelheid Ducal House. He was a very busy man who usually didn’t have a moment to spare.
Amidst that, he had been lingering outside Laura’s door for a full two hours.
Immediately recalling that fact, Laura felt a twinge of guilt rising as she forcibly scrunched her face.
‘…Hypocritical.’
Who could say if that was all an act? Was he merely pretending to sincerely reflect on his mistakes, throwing away his pride merely to appease Laura’s anger?
In the first place, that apology should have been directed at Professor Antorelli, not Laura. Laura had neither the right nor the qualification to forgive Maximilian.
Having personally experienced Laura’s firm will, Maximilian muttered to her with a waning voice.
– …Professor Antorelli will be visiting this weekend.
“…!”
– Since you mentioned wanting to see Professor Antorelli since last time, I made every effort. He will be visiting on Saturday morning, so prepare yourself without delay.
Laura’s eyes widened. Her body instinctively turned towards the door.
The sudden movement of her stiff body sent a sharp pain coursing through her, but Laura did not show it. She ran toward the door in a frenzy.
As if sensing the commotion, Maximilian’s presence, which had been turning to leave, stopped. It was of no concern to Laura.
– Creak—!
The firmly closed door opened. Although it was just a very tiny gap, enough for only one of Laura’s eyes to see through, the fact that the door opened was what mattered. Maximilian turned back and approached.
“L, Laura…!”
“Is it true? Professor Antorelli is coming… Really?”
“Yes. He’ll be here this weekend, so you won’t have to wait long.”
“Ugh…!”
Laura trembled. It was a shudder mixed with half fear and half relief.
She was terrified of meeting Professor Antorelli, not knowing how broken he might be, yet relieved that he might pull her out of this pit of despair.
“More importantly, Laura. Just let me see your face for a moment…”
“When the professor comes, have him come straight to my room.”
Seeing that the door had opened for the first time in two weeks, Maximilian attempted to meet Laura, but she sharply interrupted him.
“And, please do not come to my door again.”
“…Laura.”
“I can’t… face you right now.”
“……”
Maximilian’s expression noticeably hardened. Laura, leaving that father behind, slowly closed the door.
– Click.
It was the moment her room became once again firmly disconnected from the outside.
– …Laura. I will send your meals as usual. Do not skip meals.
With those words, Maximilian finally left.
Hearing his footsteps fade away, Laura threw herself onto the bed, clutching the blanket tightly. The plush blanket crumpled in response to her gesture.
“Finally…”
I can meet him. The tousled hair, those always dull eyes, the slightly crooked glasses, and the distinctly defined facial features.
And the deep, soothing voice that calms anyone who hears it. I will be able to hear it all.
Laura, who trembled at just the thought of the Academy, felt her anxiety completely evaporate upon hearing that Professor Antorelli was coming.
And suddenly, a faint scream echoed in her ears.
– No, no, no…! Ah!! Aaaah—!!
The pain that Professor Antorelli must be experiencing. After losing Cesar, how much wider could his wounds have grown during the time they had not seen each other?
It was a scream laced with fear about that. Laura slowly stopped shivering with expectation.
‘What must have happened to the professor…’
Even Laura, who had no direct connection, felt this way, so how must Professor Antorelli be? Laura stopped her restlessness and slowly rose.
‘…Professor Antorelli.’
Deep within her, a small piece of anxiety sprouted. But Laura shook off that anxiety with effort.
‘He is a strong person.’
A strong person. Someone so principled that they could change the proud and arrogant Laura into who she was now, and someone with firm trust in their self-assertion.
Because he had such a transparent self, Professor Antorelli should be fine. Laura made a conscious effort to think positively, gaining control of her anxious heart.
Laura picked up the desk calendar resting by her bedside. Today was Wednesday, meaning she just needed to endure for three more days to meet Professor Antorelli.
And when she does meet him… he will save Laura once again.
He will rescue her from this endless sinking pain. Just like a prince on a white horse, he will free Laura from the intangible torments that shake her.
Yes. Let her think like that. Laura laid down on the bed and slowly closed her eyes.
*
A day has passed.
Unlike her usual habit of skipping meals, Laura properly finished the meal that had come to her door this time. Even though she couldn’t eat the food she usually liked due to not eating for a long time, she had to be satisfied with the fact that she filled her stomach.
Another day passed. There is only one day left until Professor Antorelli arrives.
With a more solemn mindset than usual, Laura took a bath.
Although she didn’t typically avoid bathing every day, this time she paid more meticulous attention than usual as she finished bathing. With her relaxed body resting on the bed, Laura pleasantly closed her eyes.
And after the last day passed.
Laura ultimately couldn’t sleep a wink. Despite having stayed up all night, she opened her eyes wide as she got out of bed.
She had bathed thoroughly the night before, but she once again took a bath early in the morning. She smelled faintly of flowers now.
As the clock hand pointed to 7 AM, Laura began to sit quietly on the bed, staring blankly at the door.
She had already unlocked the firmly closed door. Her fingers and toes squirmed as she hopelessly awaited salvation.
– Tick.
An hour went by. Laura was still sitting quietly on the bed.
‘It’s still eight o’clock. I’m just being overly anxious.’
– Tick.
Another hour passed. After finishing her breakfast that had been brought to her door just like yesterday, she brushed her teeth and sat back on the bed again.
‘Is he having breakfast…?’
– Tick.
And yet another hour.
‘Is there traffic?’
– Tick.
Again, one hour went by.
‘…He did say he would come in the morning.’
– Tick.
The relentless clock hand eventually passed noon.
‘……’
– Tick.
Laura stared vacantly at the clock.
It was now one o’clock.
Laura suddenly felt very pitiful for having been sitting still for several hours.
‘…Ah.’
Yes. That was it.
Logically speaking, no one would come by choice to the house of an enemy.
Yes. When thinking logically, that makes sense.
But why…
“…Hugh! Huh…!”
Why was she crying?
Laura sobbed silently. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
“You, liar… liar…”
You said you would come. You said you would come in the morning, didn’t you?
But why…
– Thud.
“……!”
Someone was stepping down the hallway toward Laura’s room. Hearing that faint sound, Laura instinctively jumped to her feet.
Was it just her imagination?
– Thud.
It wasn’t her imagination. With trembling eyes, Laura looked at the door.
– Thud. Thud.
A rhythmic step. The familiar sound of shoes. Those footsteps…
– Thud.
Finally, they stopped in front of her door. Laura involuntarily swallowed hard.
A moment of silence fell.
– Bang.
Contrary to Laura’s expectation that there would be a knock, her door swung open violently without warning. Laura held her breath, gazing at it.
– Thud. Drip.
Drops of water soaked the floor. In the state of having been drenched like a mouse hit by the rain, the man appeared. Professor Antorelli.
“Laura von Adelheit.”
“P-Professor…?”
Through his soaked, drooping hair, his eyes glistened with unexplainable sadness.
“I acknowledge it.”
He said.
“I acknowledge that I was wrong.”
All the twisted things, the anger towards those distorted intentions and emotions—he would acknowledge that they were wrong.
He would acknowledge it all.
