Lucy felt her knees buckle, a chill anchoring itself at the back of her neck. She inhaled deeply and sank to the ground, sitting in the dirt. Pico blinked and nuzzled her cheek, worried about her state. Alan disengaged from his guardian, which reappeared beside him with a victorious grin.
He crouched beside Lucy, who still had her knees drawn up, and extended a steady hand.
"Are you alright?"
Alan's gaze met Lucy's teary eyes, and for a moment, she hesitated. Once again, she was staring intently into his eyes, but his calm expression remained unchanged. Unlike before, her fingers moved to take the hand he offered so assuredly. She stood slowly, feeling the rough scrape of her grazed knee from the fall.
"Thank you so much."
—What were you doing in the abandoned part of the academy? —he swept his gaze over the area warily—. Troublemaking students usually hide here, probably because there are never any teachers patrolling.
Lucy swallowed hard and brushed the dirt from her palms.
—I was looking for my friend's guardian. She was with me until a few moments ago, but we got separated.
—I see…
The smell of mold lingered in the air, and a rhythmic dripping echoed in the distance. The burning in her knee grew more pronounced, and Lucy frowned as the throbbing worsened. Alan noticed her expression and tilted his head.
—Can you walk?
—Yes, I'm fine—she insisted, though the tremor in her voice betrayed her.
Alan hesitated for a moment, studying Lucy's pale face, her bloodied knee, and the pained grimace at the corners of her lips. He let out a deep sigh and crouched, offering her his back.
—Come on, hop on. I'll carry you back to your room.
A slight warmth rose to Lucy's cheeks. She thought about refusing again, but the persistent weight in her leg convinced her otherwise. Carefully, she climbed onto his back, wrapping her arms around Alan's shoulders. She felt the firmness of his frame and the warmth emanating even through his uniform.
The corridor they left behind sank into shadows, interrupted by poorly placed torches, lanterns with nearly burned-out wicks, and the smell of dampness. Lucy still didn't understand how the academy could maintain such a decrepit area. She had no idea what had happened to Chloe—maybe she had found Trina, or maybe not. She would find out tomorrow. Right now, she just wanted to get back to her room.
Eventually, they left that sepulchral zone and began moving through darker hallways. At one point, Lucy had to duck her head to avoid hitting a low doorframe. Her breathing trembled as Alan carried her. After a while, he broke the silence that had settled between them.
—By the way, I still don't know your name. Every time I tried to ask before, you ran off like a scared cat.
Lucy pressed her lips together. A flush crept up her face, and as she bit her tongue to suppress her embarrassment, her fingers tightened their grip on Alan's uniform.
—Lucy Bright. I'm sorry… I didn't mean to be rude.
—Don't worry —he replied with a soft smile—. I'm Alan Weaver. I've noticed you're always on the defensive. It seems like you don't like drawing attention to yourself.
Lucy was quiet for a moment, memories of mockery, rejection, and wary stares surfacing in her mind—experiences that had followed her all her life. Few people hadn't immediately distanced themselves from her, including her own parents.
—I don't like people looking into my eyes. When they do, they call me weird. —She spat out the last word as if it were venom.
The dim hallway gave way to a beam of light streaming through a tall, narrow window. The moss-covered walls transitioned to slightly cleaner tiles.
—Have you ever thought about covering your eye with a lock of hair? It might make things easier.
—My parents forbid it. They say I should never hide my appearance… that I should be proud of it. —Her voice turned bitter—. But sometimes I wish they wouldn't look at me that way.
Alan kept walking, maintaining his balance despite the added weight. He seemed to measure each step carefully to avoid jostling Lucy's injured knee.
—I understand. Although, to be honest, I'm glad you don't.
—Huh?
—It would be a shame to hide such beautiful eyes.
His words echoed in Lucy's chest like an unexpected drumbeat. She lowered her gaze, too embarrassed to return the smile. She didn't dare say anything more.
After rounding a corner, they found themselves in a better-lit corridor. Portraits of former directors and professors hung on the walls. The sound of footsteps on the other side suggested they were near a busier area. Lucy fervently hoped no one would see her at such a mortifying moment.
Eventually, Alan stopped in front of a door marked "Room 606." He bent down to let Lucy climb off, and she gritted her teeth as she carefully placed her feet on the floor. A soft groan escaped her lips as pain shot through her knee. Her skirt bore a dark stain, clear evidence of the blood still soaking the fabric.
—Thanks for bringing me… —she murmured hesitantly.
—Don't mention it. —Alan glanced at Lucy's wound. The blood had dried, and the handkerchief covering it no longer dripped as before. —I think it'd be best if you went to the infirmary. Want me to go with you?
—No, it's fine. This is nothing.
—Are you sure? —he pressed—. It could get infected.
Lucy nodded again, signaling to Alan that everything was fine and that he could leave. Alan sighed, though there was a hint of resignation in it.
—Alright, well, rest up. —He turned away, his capybara following closely behind. As he headed toward his room, he raised a hand. —See you tomorrow.
—Yeah… See you tomorrow.
Alan's figure disappeared down the hall, vanishing behind his own door. Lucy lingered for a few moments, leaning against the wall, feeling her heart pounding. She let out a soft sigh. There weren't many students around. Most were likely eating dinner in the main hall or wandering the corridors. She wasn't hungry—not after everything that had happened.
She placed her palm on the circle embedded in the door, and as it reacted to her anima, the lock disengaged. She pushed the door open and stepped inside cautiously. Dropping her bag onto the wooden table, she collapsed onto the mattress, her gaze fixed on the ceiling as blank as her thoughts at that moment. So many things had happened that day, but this was undoubtedly the strangest. She grabbed a pillow and pressed it against her face, stifling a silent scream filled with a mix of anger and embarrassment.
Pico emerged from the bag and padded lightly to the bed, settling beside Lucy. The small creature rubbed its nose against her shoulder, trying to soothe her. Lucy pulled her face away from the pillow, feeling a bit calmer at the affectionate gesture of her guardian. A faint smile crossed her lips as she gently stroked the rodent's soft head.
Suddenly, she noticed her notebook, half-open and on the verge of slipping out of her bag. She remembered she had left a chapter unfinished. With everything that had happened, it had completely slipped her mind. Perhaps writing would help her clear her thoughts and fall asleep more easily. Moving slowly, she stood up and walked over to the table. Her legs trembled slightly, especially as her knee burned with discomfort.
She opened the notebook's cover and flipped through the pages until she found the unfinished one. Taking the ink bottle, she removed the lid, releasing the dense black liquid. Before picking up the pen, she decided to reread the last paragraphs she had left incomplete.
At first, she thought it might be better to rewrite them entirely, but then an idea sparked in her mind. She dipped the pen into the dark ink, shook it gently to prevent any drips, and began to glide the nib across the paper.
I leaned against the railing, bending over the water. The river looked dark, reflecting the trembling glimmers of the moon. I wished all my pain could flow away with that current. The rain began to fall slowly, soaking my face and disheveling my hair.
"What if I jump…"
The question slipped from my lips without thinking. Its echo dissolved into the night. The idea was as absurd as it was tempting. To jump, to vanish into the icy waters, to ignore the shapeless, hopeless future ahead. My heart pounded erratically as the cold air sliced against my face. Tears that had refused to fall gathered in my eyes. The muscles in my throat tightened. The memories of my mother, my father, Tom lying helpless in a hospital bed, and my grandmother… Could I let them go? Could I abandon the one person still waiting for me at home, the only family I had left?
A distant sound, perhaps the call of a nocturnal bird or the howl of a dog, interrupted the silence. I kept staring at the river, my knuckles white as I gripped the railing. I started to climb over it, my gaze fixed on the sky. Maybe this was for the best…
I didn't think of anything.
I just let go.
"You idiot!"
The shout caught me off guard just as my feet left solid ground. A figure emerged from the darkness, wrapping their arms desperately around my waist. I felt the force of those arms pulling my body back against the rain-slicked concrete. Those arms held me tightly, as if they'd never let go. My eyes focused on Mark's face, partially obscured by a drenched hood that shielded his blond hair from the rain. His heavy breaths pushed his chest against my ribs.
"You idiot!" he repeated, holding me tightly.
I hadn't realized until that moment. I had jumped. I had tried to end my life. If it weren't for Mark, I would've ended up in the water. By morning, they'd have found my drowned body. Or maybe they wouldn't have found it at all.
"Mark… what are you doing here?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
"That doesn't matter now! What were you thinking?" His voice cracked, barely concealing his terror. "Did you think this would fix anything? That this was the solution? I know you're going through a lot, but that doesn't mean you have to end everything. Did you even think about what would happen next? Did you think about us? About your grandmother?"
"You don't understand…" I sobbed, looking straight into his eyes. "My father… my father died because of me. I was the one who got us all into this. I could never forgive myself if—"
"Shut up!"
A sharp pang pierced my chest. I thought I'd run out of tears, but I hadn't.
"It's not your fault! We were the ones who got interested in the mystery. You can't just abandon us now!"
I clung to his jacket, unable to hold his gaze any longer. Each raindrop hitting the concrete echoed in my chest, reminding me of what I had almost done.
"I'm sorry…"
My voice trembled. My breathing grew erratic. Suddenly, a shiver ran down my spine, and the river's murmur turned into a roar of restrained agony. My eyes overflowed, and my nails dug into the fabric of Mark's hoodie as if it were the only thing keeping me afloat.
The tears fell, soaking his shoulder and mixing with the rain.
"It's okay…" His arms wrapped around me, his embrace stilling my trembling body. "Let it out."
My muscles tensed and then gave way to the release I'd been holding back for so long. A sob turned into uncontrollable crying, tearing through my throat. I felt myself sinking into Mark's chest, inhaling the scent of his rain-soaked clothing. He didn't move or dare let me go.
I let myself fall apart, anchored in his arms, feeling the steady beats of his heart against my ear.
Lucy lifted the quill after tracing the final word. The ink was nearly gone, but there was no need to dip it again. The title she had considered at the beginning now seemed perfect for the chapter. She reread the last few paragraphs and couldn't help the slight blush that crept across her cheeks as she imagined a familiar situation. She remembered the moment Alan appeared and saved her from those three bullies.
"Idiot…" she murmured.
Fatigue was beginning to blur her vision. She decided she had written enough for the day. Classes started tomorrow, and she would need to wake up early for breakfast. The inkwell emitted a faint crackling sound as she replaced the lid. She tucked the notebook into her bag and glanced at her wound, which seemed to have stopped bleeding, though the stinging sensation lingered. Perhaps she'd need to visit the infirmary tomorrow.
Stretching out her arm, she grabbed the candle that cast a flickering glow over the room. She blew out the flame, and the room was engulfed in shadow.
Taking a few uneven steps to the bed, she carefully let herself down. Pico curled up in a corner of the mattress. Lucy pulled a light blanket over herself and closed her eyes, listening to the sound of her heartbeat echoing in her ears.