After Beatrice left, Anna sat alone on the steps leading up to the Rooftop for a long time.
The folds of her skirt, which draped past her knees, were twisted and rolled up repeatedly.
The fabric, once smooth and delicate, now appeared crumpled—just like Anna’s heart, full of deep ravines impossible to fill.
Making decisions was never easy for Anna; she had always been poor at choosing, especially when it came to deciding between two relationships.
Beatrice was the first person to show her kindness after she returned to the Royal Capital Magic Academy, and the first to become her friend.
But Ophelia was the one who had confessed “I like you” with her own lips, promising to stay by her side until the end of time—no matter in what capacity.
Anna had originally hoped to maintain a balance between the two relationships; the scale in her heart had seemed fair.
Yet Beatrice’s Farewell Letter placed Anna on the Rooftop and completely shattered the delicate balance of that scale.
One side was destined to fall, and Anna found it incredibly difficult to choose.
But… there was no doubt that Ophelia’s side was the more important.
So Anna said “I’m sorry,” utterly destroying the hard-won friendship.
People said a confession was the complete destruction of a friendship, and now Anna understood it was true.
Once certain words were spoken, there was no turning back—like rivers that never flow backward, or the sun and moon that never reverse.
After saying “I’m sorry,” a crack naturally appeared in their relationship, and that crack could never be smoothed over.
Even if forced to patch up, one day when a weight too heavy to bear pressed down, that crack would split open again, wider and wider, beyond repair.
Anna’s eyes burned, as if an invisible hand had punched her hard—no pain to pinpoint, but swelling enough to make her want to cry.
She lifted her head, letting the evening breeze blowing across the Rooftop brush past her eyes, allowing the tears to flow backward in the wind.
She wanted to cry freely and thoroughly, but when she bowed her head, she found her tears had long dried up—she couldn’t even cry.
Her chest felt clogged with a wad of water-soaked cotton, absorbing all her tears.
The more Anna tried to cry, the more that cotton swelled, almost bursting her chest.
“Anna.”
A voice like frozen frost came from behind.
The evening breeze carried the scent of cedar from Ophelia, filling Anna’s nostrils.
The cedar scent was like a balm that calmed the turmoil in Anna’s heart, instantly suppressing the sorrow tangled inside her.
“Ophelia.”
Anna looked up.
Ophelia’s footsteps were light as she approached from behind and knelt down, gently resting Anna’s head on her lap.
Her fingers cradled Anna’s chin—not tightly, but firmly enough to make Anna feel held.
She said nothing, simply holding Anna quietly, her fingers lightly brushing Anna’s face as if wanting to wipe away tears.
Ophelia bent down and placed a kiss on the corner of Anna’s eye.
She caught the leftover tear and swallowed Anna’s bitterness down her throat.
As if by doing so, she could empathize with Anna’s pain.
“Thank you, Anna.”
Ophelia lowered her head, planting a butterfly kiss on Anna’s nose.
Her lips moved swiftly—briefly touching, then quickly retreating—light as wind, fragile as frost.
“Thank me… for what?”
Anna’s voice caught in her throat.
She didn’t understand Ophelia’s sudden gratitude, just as she hadn’t understood Beatrice’s unexpected farewell.
She hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary; she had only acted as her role dictated.
“Thank you for choosing me.”
Ophelia’s fingers combed through Anna’s tangled hair like a fine-tooth comb, gathering strands and smoothing them one by one.
She lifted the hair away from Anna’s forehead and bent down to kiss the spot—the kiss landed squarely in the center of Anna’s forehead.
Anna kept her eyes open, their gazes briefly locking at an impossibly close distance, intertwining invisibly and becoming inseparable.
She couldn’t tear her eyes away from Ophelia.
It was as if she had fallen off a cliff, with an endless abyss behind her.
She reached out, trying to grab hold of the trees growing crookedly from the cliff’s edge, an instinct to survive.
When her gaze faltered, her hand had already clung to Ophelia’s nape, like a falling person grabbing a tree on the cliff.
“Sorry…”
Anna didn’t know what she was apologizing for.
Was it for clutching Ophelia’s nape without permission?
Or for being unable to return Ophelia’s gratitude?
Or perhaps both?
She couldn’t even explain it to herself.
“Anna, you don’t need to apologize. If anything, it’s I who have caused you trouble.”
Ophelia paid no mind to Anna’s hand, which felt like it was overstepping.
Instead, one of her hands pressed firmly against Anna, holding her so that the hand on her nape could not pull away.
Her other hand cradled the back of Anna’s head, gently lifting it.
This time, she kissed Anna’s tear-filled eye socket.
As if trying to peck away every newly formed tear.
“You’re not a trouble.”
Anna turned her face slightly, making Ophelia’s kiss shift a little.
The kiss landed on her ear, and Ophelia took the hint, tracing the curve of Anna’s ear with her lips, admiring how the small, delicate ear blushed with her kisses.
“Not trouble… then what is it?”
She whispered into Anna’s ear, a voice only Anna could hear.
Perhaps because of Ophelia’s breath, the redness spread from Anna’s ear to her cheeks.
Anna blushed and shyly turned her face away, no longer meeting Ophelia’s gaze directly.
Ophelia gave her no chance to avoid.
She gently but firmly grabbed Anna’s chin, returning the averted gaze.
She stared into Anna’s eyes intently, as if forcing her to honestly face reality and voice her true feelings.
“It’s…” Anna’s voice grew smaller, blending into the wind, yet Ophelia heard it clearly, “something more important.”
Afraid Ophelia might not understand, Anna hastily added, “Compared to everyone else.”
“That’s why I have to thank you, Anna, for seeing me as that important.”
Ophelia lifted Anna’s chin, urging her to stretch her neck as she fixed her gaze firmly.
Her face slowly descended like a messenger angel bringing good news.
Anna closed her eyes, and then the kiss fell on her lips.
Anna felt like a fish gasping for air.
She tried to surface, desperate for the life-giving breath, but the closer she got to the water’s surface, the harder it became to breathe.
The surface seemed to pull her in, holding her tight.
She tried to leap out, but it was like hitting solid rock.
The rock was like a door, and the fish finally passed through the door—only to find no air but another lake beyond.
The fish opened the door, and the two lakes merged.
The fish swam back to her own lake but found, under the rising moonlight, a silver, translucent bridge stretching across the two bodies of water.
“Not feeling so sad anymore, right, Anna?”
Ophelia smiled, her eyebrows curved like a new moon.
“Mm, thanks to you, Ophelia.”
Anna’s fallen heart was carefully held by a pair of hands.
“Next Public Holiday, do you want to come watch a Poetry Play with me?”
Anna never said no to Ophelia’s invitations.
“Sure, but you can’t laugh at me if I don’t understand it.”
Tears hung at the corner of Anna’s eyes, but they had already dried.