The rising sun stubbornly continued its ascent without turning back, as if insisting that it would not retrace its path today.
Its brilliance, though much dimmer than in the summer, was still enough to melt the snow under such a clear sky.
“Ghrrr…”
A wave of dizziness washed over me. I lifted my head from where it had been pressed against the table.
“…Ah.”
The room was in shambles. Empty glasses were scattered everywhere, and unknown professors sprawled on either side of me, muttering in their sleep and smacking their lips.
Among them were some familiar faces. In the far corner of the bar, Professor Armstrong was scratching his abs with his shirt off for some reason, while Professor Andres was passed out beside him.
If I turned my head slightly, I could see a few more familiar faces. It was a table full of theology professors, including Professor Marcello, who was snoring loudly with his arms crossed, looking much like a homeless man on the street.
Professors Esther and Sub-priest Sofia, who had been drinking beside me the previous night, also came into view. Professor Madison, who had been sitting with me at the same table, was nowhere to be seen. Had she already left?
I also noticed the absence of a few other faces—specifically, Dean Charlotte, Interim President Underwood, and Professor Madison.
– Swish.
The bar’s entrance door was opened cautiously, letting a cold wind rush in. Since my table was right next to the door, I shivered and looked up to see who had come in.
“Professor Madison?”
“Professor Antorelli. Are you awake?”
“Ah, yes. By the way, what time is it…?”
“It’s seven in the morning. You haven’t slept too long.”
Last night, thanks to Professor Armstrong who made me his drinking hostage, I was forced to listen to his raspy voice until two in the morning. And yet, it was only seven?
“Ah….”
Suddenly, my vision swayed violently, and a wave of dizziness overwhelmed me. It was the first time I’d ever experienced such a severe hangover, despite not being particularly weak against alcohol.
As I groaned, clutching my spinning head, Professor Madison, who had been standing in front of me just moments ago, was already holding a glass of cold water in front of me, moving so swiftly I hadn’t even noticed.
“From the kitchen. Quickly.”
“Ah… thank you.”
I accepted the glass and greedily gulped down the icy water. It was colder than usual, perhaps because of the winter, feeling almost too cold even for healthy teeth.
“Phew… truly, thank you very much, Chief Professor.”
I thanked Professor Madison again, realizing how close I’d been to making a mess on the table. She dismissed it lightly, waving her hand while pulling out a cigarette pack from her pocket.
“…Would you care for a cigarette?”
“Yes. Would you like one, Professor Antorelli?”
“Yes, well…”
“Professor Underwood, would you like one?”
At the mention of her name, I turned around and saw Professor Underwood standing behind me, counting the money she had taken from her wallet and nodding.
“Alright.”
“Ah… Professor Underwood, where have you been…?”
“I had to take care of the dinner expenses. All funds came from the academy’s budget, so don’t worry.”
With that, Professor Underwood took out her own cigarette pack, just like Professor Madison, and walked silently to the door.
I followed her outside into the cold winter air.
Winter mornings, especially around seven o’clock, weren’t very bright. Shorter days meant the sun took longer to rise.
A chilly cold covered my body as I shivered and pulled the coat I had hastily thrown on tighter around myself. After fumbling through the coat pocket several times, I finally found a cigarette pack with only a couple cigarettes left.
“Professor Antorelli, here’s a light…”
“Ah, thank you.”
“Professor Madison, could you light mine as well?”
“Yes, of course.”
We took turns lighting our cigarettes with the elegant lighter that I had seen Professor Madison use before.
“Hmph…”
“Phew… It’s cold…”
For a while, the three of us remained silent. The pale, thick smoke escaping from our lips mingled with the chilly morning breeze and dispersed slowly.
Though smoking in the cold air seemed to clear my head a little, the aftereffects of my hangover were still overwhelming. The minty taste of the cigarette wasn’t properly reaching me.
The sensation was confusing. I couldn’t tell whether the thing in my mouth was a chopstick or a cigarette. I felt as if I had lost some of my senses, as if my limbs had been severed. A pleasant numbness crept over me, making me slowly realize how my body was gradually losing functionality.
And yet, as I indulged in this drowsy numbness, a sudden chill in the air jolted me back to some semblance of consciousness. The cigarette smoke became a visual representation of my life, a sign that I was still breathing.
“Professor Underwood.”
“Yes? Did you call me?”
“Thank you for all your hard work this past year.”
“…”
At Professor Madison’s words, Professor Underwood silently exhaled a puff of smoke. The smoke escaping her lips clung and thickened in the chilly winter air as it froze.
Even though it would dissipate in a few seconds, it seemed so sensual. Was it characteristic of Professor Underwood?
Finally, her red lips parted.
“Thank you, Professor Madison. You’ve worked hard too.”
“Thank you.”
“Ah… I heard you intend to go on maternity leave next year?”
“That’s correct. I was just telling Professor Antorelli yesterday.”
“So the top professor seat for the second year will be vacant.”
“I apologize. I’ve thought of someone as my successor, so I hope things will continue smoothly during my absence.”
“Thank you for all your hard work. Please rest well.”
Professor Madison didn’t reply at first. Even Professor Underwood didn’t seem to expect a reply, but after silently smoking for a while, she mumbled,
“Yes… thank you.”
After observing Professor Madison for a moment, Professor Underwood stubbed out her cigarette and lit another one. Professor Madison was evidently an avid smoker.
“It’s my hope things work out well for you… with that person.”
“Yes…”
“Hmm… Do you plan to get married?”
“Yes… Yes.”
Professor Madison’s face slightly contorted, as if he had something to say.
“…Professor Underwood, I…”
“Professor Madison, let’s stop there.”
Professor Underwood interrupted him. Her red hair gently swayed.
“You have every right to love again. Don’t chip away at your self-esteem anymore.”
“I’ll take care of your leave, so please rest well. This year, you’ve been working as if chased by something. All for that, wasn’t it?”
“…”
“Professor Madison, memories aren’t simply forgotten by dedicating oneself to work. Especially when the purpose is to forget certain memories.”
“…”
“As they say, the more you try not to think of an elephant, the more it comes to mind.”
“People are stubborn that way.”
“…”
“Well… rest well. I’ll be waiting.”
Once again, I couldn’t say anything. The way I looked at Professor Madison was no longer the same as before.
For some reason, Professor Underwood noticed my gaze and smiled while tapping my arm.
“You too, Professor Antorelli.”
“My situation…”
“You know, both the president and I know you were in the Great War. We’re the ones who recruited you, after all.”
“…”
“I don’t know all the details… But yes. At least, your situation seems somewhat similar to the Swift Prince.”
“What? Who’s this Swift Prince…?”
“Ah, not him? Shall we call you a playboy instead? Hehe…”
At the joke from Professor Underwood, Professor Madison’s face slightly reddened.
Apparently, people have a lot to live for. I’d never seen Professor Madison blush before.
After a small cough, he extinguished his cigarette and lit another one.
“I’m just focused on the present.”
“Yes, I think that’s commendable.”
“…Speaking of which, isn’t Professor Underwood getting along quite well with Professor Armstrong? I remember last time, there was this rice scattering in the Annex building…”
“Ahh, that, it…”
Professor Underwood’s voice wavered and then fell silent. Her shy expression was a novel sight. Today had been full of new discoveries.
An awkward silence followed. Unable to stand it, Professor Underwood spoke up again.
“…What’s the name of the person?”
“The person in question?”
“I mean, Professor Madison’s fiancée.”
“Camielle. Camielle Delphi.”
“What a beautiful name. Hehe…”
“Rather, how about you, Professor Underwood…”
Their voices gradually faded until they were completely inaudible. Only the biting cold wind of winter remained in my ears.
Professor Madison’s expression appeared as usual—stoic—but beneath it, there were faint traces of excitement and happiness, perhaps recalling the new person he loved.
‘…New love.’
Yes, new love. New encounters, new connections…
There is farewell, and there is meeting. When one encounter fades, another is bound to take its place.
But where there is meeting, there is inevitably parting. The end of all meetings is separation. All encounters, all loves, all connections… Are they not ultimately based on departure?
Hence, it’s for the best. After farewells comes meeting…
…
What’s so…
What’s so joyful, so happy?
What’s this new love? What’s a fiancé?
If you truly loved, isn’t it impossible to part so easily? Is my understanding of love wrong?
The depth of affection Professor Madison had and the emotions I still hold… is it really different? Is it not the same kind of love?
Why, how…
How can it change so effortlessly? Are people, am I…
“…Father? Professor Antorelli?”
I had been sitting with my chin resting on my hand, bowing my head at some point.
I looked up. Professors Underwood and Madison stood by the door, looking at me.
“Are you alright? You didn’t respond when we called you.”
“Fearing you might scald your hand, we took your cigarette stub, but you didn’t react even then.”
I stared blankly at my fingers, then back at the two.
“It’s nothing.”
“That’s good. It’s cold, so let’s go in.”
In the end, I reluctantly stood up. The cold air held the sticky remnants of the cigarette smoke I had exhaled.
—
The day before boarding the train.
