Five days had nearly passed since the ball. Tirel Keira tried not to think about that night as much as possible. The moment Valdikion Rion had taken her hand and danced with her. The sensation of all eyes in the hall turning toward them. And how, starting the very next morning, the atmosphere in the corridors had gradually shifted. Before long, the students had begun looking at Keira and whispering to each other in hushed voices. When their eyes met, they would look away. Even in the dining hall, the seat beside her remained naturally empty. (Not again.) It had been the same in her previous life. The more attention she drew as an idol, the more malice would begin to grow from somewhere. Rion had said it would settle down if left alone. So Keira tried to keep her expression unchanged and go about her days as usual. That morning, she had intended to do the same. --- Just before homeroom began, the door opened and a messenger student entered. "Tirel-sama. Headmaster Duvall is calling for you." The entire class's gaze turned toward Keira all at once. She knew how the surroundings would look at a student called to the headmaster's office. So she didn't let her expression change. She put her notebook away in her bag and stood up quietly. As she walked down the corridor, she tried to organize her thoughts. Headmaster Guillaume Duvall—a sixty-seven-year-old man with a gentle, scholarly demeanor. She had heard he was firm about protecting the independence of Etreille Academy, but he was usually a mild-mannered person. She wouldn't know the reason for the summons until she met him. She knocked on the headmaster's office door, and a calm voice answered, "Come in." When she entered, Duvall was standing with the window at his back. White-streaked hair, round glasses, a soft-looking face. But his expression was heavier than usual. "Sit down." As Keira sat in the chair, Duvall picked up an envelope from his desk. "A letter arrived in this office yesterday. Read it." She took the offered letter and opened it to read the contents. It was a short piece of text that ended in just a few lines. The content was—I have obtained the castle layout of the Valdikion Kingdom. I will hand it over at the next secret meeting. And in place of a signature, the name Keira was written. She checked the characters twice, three times. The handwriting resembled her own. The texture of the paper used was also close to what she normally used. The air in the room seemed to wait quietly for Keira's reaction. "[gentle]I... did not write this." Her voice was calmer than she expected. Duvall raised an eyebrow and asked in return. "[serious]Can you provide evidence?" Evidence. Keira stared at the letter, her mind racing. The handwriting was similar. The paper was similar. She hadn't had any secret meetings—but there was no evidence that she hadn't. Proving a negative was always difficult. (Who wrote this?) Not many people knew her handwriting. The people she spent time with regularly were—Ferno Maris and Valdikion Rion, with whom she had exchanged assignments. And Rosette, whom she often saw in the greenhouse. "[gentle]I cannot provide evidence immediately. However, I have neither the opportunity nor any reason to access information about the Valdikion Kingdom or to hand it over." "That much I understand. However—" The door burst open roughly. It was Rion. --- Black hair with red streaks. A scar above his left eyebrow. His expression was slightly more tense than usual. Duvall raised an eyebrow behind his glasses. "Your Highness Valdikion, this is—" "[serious]I will serve as a witness. Keira and I have had no secret meetings. I can guarantee that." A teaching assistant standing in the corner of the room—a man in his thirties with narrow eyes—opened his mouth slightly. "...If I may be so bold, Your Highness." His voice was gentle, but something lay within the words. "For the Crown Prince of the Valdikion Kingdom to defend Keira-sama would be tantamount to admitting that some form of exchange has taken place between our two nations, would it not?" The room fell silent. Keira felt clearly how that single remark changed the atmosphere of the room. Rion said nothing in return. There was a pause, then more silence. He might have tried to argue. But the words wouldn't come—any rebuttal risked making the situation even worse. (It's not Rion's fault.) Keira understood. Rion had come to help her. That was true. But the act of trying to help had only complicated the situation further. She couldn't stop it. Duvall spoke quietly. "[serious]Is there anyone else who knows the circumstances?" At that moment, the door on the corridor side opened quietly. Ferno Maris entered. --- Deep purple short hair. Golden eyes. Her usual smile, like flowers blooming. Keira felt something loosen in her chest without thinking. (Thank goodness. Maris is—) She felt saved. If Maris had heard the exchange in the corridor, she would surely tell the truth. She knew about the day they walked through the market together, the conversations in the dining hall. Maris knew Keira's actions. Maris turned toward Duvall. "[gentle]Excuse me, Headmaster. Actually—" She lowered her eyes slightly, letting tears glisten on her eyelashes. Her acting was very skillful. "[gentle]I've seen with my own eyes several times how Keira-san slipped out of the dormitory in the middle of the night to meet with Rion-sama." The room fell completely silent. Keira slowly turned to look at Maris. Even when their eyes met, Maris didn't let her smile falter. Her eyes were wet. But—the temperature in her pupils was different. Eyes that weren't crying were pretending to cry. Eyes that had experienced hundreds of stages as an idol read it clearly. Something spread through her mind without sound. It was a scene from her previous life. A member of the group was speaking toward the television camera with a smile. "That girl is so self-centered." "Everyone just doesn't notice, but—" She had seen those words on the monitor in the green room. At first, she hadn't realized they were talking about her. The smile had been too natural. And now, that exact same face was right in front of her. Keira couldn't say anything. She had no energy to be angry. No energy to cry, no energy to raise her voice. She simply let her gaze fall to the floor and said, "[cold]...I see." That was all. --- A one-week suspension was handed down. Walking down the corridor to the dormitory after leaving the headmaster's office, Keira was barely thinking about anything. Her body was moving on its own. She could tell that Rion had tried to say something as they passed. But her feet didn't stop. The moment she closed the door to her room, her legs gave out. She sat down on the spot. Her back against the door, she hugged her knees. --- On the first day, she tried going to the dining hall. She picked up a tray with food and looked for an empty seat. There was one table with an open spot. As she tried to sit, the students sitting nearby casually spread their belongings. She moved to another table. The same thing happened there. In the end, she sat alone near a pillar at the edge and finished her meal. From the second day on, she had her meals brought to her room. On the third night, she looked out the window. The streets of Blanche glowed white in the moonlight. Limestone buildings lined the streets, and in the distance, the spire of the royal palace was visible. It was a beautiful city, she thought. This landscape was the first thing she had come to love in this world where she had been reborn wanting to live quietly. (I just wanted to live quietly.) Those words began to circle slowly through her mind. They wouldn't stop. She had wanted to live quietly. She hadn't wanted to stand out. She hadn't tried to be useful to anyone or to get close to anyone. She had simply wanted to read books, go to the greenhouse, finish her assignments, and spend her days peacefully like that. And yet. Images from her previous life surfaced. The moment when the truck's headlights painted her vision white. What had Kira been thinking in that one second before? She had thought she was tired. The time alone in the wings of the stage had been when she felt most at ease. She had reached her limit with creating smiles. —If there had been no transmigration in that moment. That thought crossed her mind. Keira realized it herself and quietly closed her eyes. No. That wasn't it. She was just tired. She collapsed onto the bed. She pressed her face into the pillow. So her voice wouldn't come out. So no one would notice. Something welled up from deep within her body and wouldn't stop. She cried in exactly the same way that Kira had cried alone in the green room of her previous life. The previous world's Kira, who had continued to create laughter, and this world's Keira, who was stifling her tears, overlapped in this moment alone. --- On the fourth night, deep into the darkness, Keira was half-asleep from crying herself out. She heard the sound of paper scraping against the door. She lifted her body and looked at the floor. Two pieces of paper had been slipped through the gap beneath the door. She stood up and picked them up. She opened the first letter. It was in familiar, round, leisurely handwriting. 'I believe in you, young lady. There is something I witnessed in the greenhouse at night. It will serve as evidence. —Rosette' Rosette, the greenhouse keeper. A fifty-year-old former pharmacist who, whenever Keira came to the greenhouse to read, would quietly bring her herbal tea without asking questions. She opened the second letter. It was short. Just one sentence. 'Lies can always be exposed. Don't give up.' The moment she saw the characters, she knew. Slightly angular, forceful handwriting. She had seen it many times sitting beside him during the diplomatic studies assignment. It was Rion. Keira stood holding both letters in her hands, unable to move for a while. —Rosette had been watching. She knew that Keira, who came to the greenhouse, wasn't sneaking out at night. And Rion, after his failure in the headmaster's office, hadn't given up. She held both letters to her chest. The back of her eyes grew hot again, but this time it was a different kind of heat. Suddenly, the last line of the first letter caught her eye. A part she had overlooked. 'By the way, the mint in the greenhouse is thriving wonderfully. When you visit next time, we shall make it into mint tea. We await your arrival.' Keira, with her tear-stained face, let out a small laugh despite herself. Mint talk in a situation like this. That was so like Rosette. That's how she always was in the greenhouse. She never said anything unnecessary, just talked about plants. After laughing, she could breathe a little easier. She held the letters and looked out the window. The night view of Blanche remained unchanged, white and quiet. The limestone buildings caught the moonlight, and the distant spire of the royal palace glowed faintly. It was the same scenery she had seen three days ago. But now, that quietness didn't look like complete solitude. The weight of two letters was in both her hands. Three days of suspension remained. She still didn't know why Maris had lied or who had written the false letter. But—lies can always be exposed, Rion had written. Keira looked at those characters once more. Slightly angular, unwavering handwriting. She wondered what expression Rion had worn when writing this letter. Had he calculated it? Or, unable to say anything else, had he simply written this? She didn't know which. But the letter was certainly here. Keira read the end of Rosette's letter once more. The talk of mint tea. The quiet night outside the window. The warmth of two letters in her hands. If she didn't give up, there would be evidence. She held only that fact close