I Start with a Bad Hand!

“Ah, what should I do.” I fumbled around, not knowing what to do, touching my own hands, then Agnes’s back, and finally, I just had to repeatedly smack my forehead. With the sound of Agnes sobbing filling the room, I felt compelled to say something.

“Well… maybe you did mess up today because you genuinely lack talent.”

At this, Agnes started crying even louder.

“Or maybe, it could be because you lack experience…”

That sounded somewhat like an interviewer.

“Or maybe it’s because you’re still young…”

That sounded patronizing.

“Or maybe it’s because you didn’t try hard enough.”

That was even more patronizing!

“Or maybe my script was weird.”

At this point, Agnes stopped crying and looked at me with a ‘what do you want me to say?’ expression. At least the tears had stopped, so that was half the battle won.

Ugh, but that’s not what I meant to say.

“So, what I mean is… there are countless factors to why you made a mistake this time, ‘this time!’ I hope you don’t just lump them all together and think it’s because you’re lacking or pathetic. If it’s a lack of experience, you just need to get more experience, and if it’s a lack of effort, you just need to practice more.”

Agnes was still silent. I added with a feeling of trying to squeeze something out.

“And… actors often blame the script or the direction. Maybe my script really was too weird for you to act properly? If that’s the case, then it’s not your fault.”

I continued, grasping at my dwindling energy.

“By eliminating one variable at a time, you might find out what the real issue is. But I think that the remaining factors won’t include you being inadequate.”

“…What if I find out I really have no talent? What then?”

I didn’t know.

“Knowing yourself well is also a talent and a skill. You can think of it as having taken a long journey to really understand yourself.”

“…”

“I still don’t know what I like or what I want to do.”

I’m actually quite a bit older than you, but I left that unsaid and rummaged through Agnes’s pocket to hand her a handkerchief. Agnes blew her nose loudly; it sounded like an elephant crying. The handkerchief was damp after she used it. I was relieved I don’t carry a handkerchief, so I didn’t have to give her mine.

“And I could be in front of someone burning my script saying it’s boring, and I could use that fire to bake potatoes. But that’s because… I don’t enjoy writing plays as much as you enjoy acting.”

So it really doesn’t bother me much. So, knowing what you like makes you better off than me. I leaned on Agnes’s shoulder and said this. Agnes blew her nose loudly again, then quietly started to pick at the cookies. Seeing that she had an appetite meant she was feeling a bit better.

‘Why is it so hard to comfort someone?’ I felt like I had aged two years in just a few moments. I would have preferred running ten laps around the academy on all fours instead. The fatigue made me feel like my physical age might actually catch up with my mental age. Being good at comforting was indeed a skill and a talent.

“Shall we go? The senior was worried about you when you left like that.”

“You didn’t have a proper breakfast, either. Let’s go have a nice lunch with the senior.” I tried to divert the conversation, attempting to shake off the awkward thoughts. I slid my hand under Agnes’s limp arm and lifted her lightly. She dangled as I helped her up.

Thud.

As we abruptly stood up, something crashed behind the bushes across the table.

“What was that?”

Agnes and I exchanged glances and peeked behind the bushes, only to come face-to-face with an unexpected figure.

A white squirrel, standing awkwardly next to a toppled pot, seemed to have been eavesdropping on our conversation.

“…Hello.”

“…It’s been a while.”

The daughter of the Elexion Ducal House looked at me with an uncharacteristically flustered expression.

An odd silence flowed between us. Meanwhile, Agnes was rolling her eyes, gauging the situation.

“I’ll be going then.”

As I awkwardly passed by Roxanne, she suddenly grabbed my hand. Surprised by her touch, I looked up, and she flinched slightly but still held onto my hand.

“I have something to say…”

“What?”

Agnes tilted her head slightly, then shrugged her shoulders and waved at me.

“I’ll go ahead. Take your time to talk.”

I’ll start eating with the senior! With that, Agnes walked away lightly. Roxanne was the first to break the silence.

“Did you finish the semester well?”

Roxanne asked in a slightly awkward tone.

“Yeah. How about you?”

“…Me too.”

Roxanne looked more gaunt than I remembered. As I stared at her somewhat thinner face, I just looked down at my own feet.

“Also this time…”

I heard a faint voice and lifted my head. Her expression had darkened completely as she spoke.

“This time also… top of the class…”

She couldn’t finish her sentence in her small voice. When I saw her struggling to speak, I felt a pang of pity. After all, I had survived my school years enduring all sorts of competitions, and I knew that although it feels excruciating for those going through it, looking back, it seems like nothing significant.

“Just, I did my best.” I said to Roxanne, looking her straight in the eyes. She still couldn’t lift her head.

‘Sigh, you’ve had it tough too.’

Unlike with Agnes, I felt I couldn’t offer the same comfort to her. Honestly, I doubted whether she even needed my comfort and sympathy. All I could do was pat Roxanne’s shoulder reassuringly.

“I should go. Have a good vacation.”

Leaving the motionless Roxanne behind, I left the greenhouse. Taking a deep breath, I wondered what was for lunch as I headed towards the dining hall.

***

The days-long arts festival was thoroughly enjoyable.

It started with Agnes’s drama class, where she truly became a scene-stealer with her solid performance as a tree. When I handed her a huge bouquet after she had painted her face green, she hugged me cheerfully, despite someone snickering in the background about the minor role getting the loudest applause.

Irene’s dance recital was beautiful. Unfortunately, I hadn’t known about her pollen allergy, and she had started crying uncontrollably upon receiving a bouquet. Misinterpreting Irene’s tears, the dance students created a sea of tears backstage, leaving Agnes and me no choice but to hide our embarrassment.

Following them, Klaus teased Irene, who was still red-eyed from the performance, asking if she was so moved. Irene, scanning her surroundings, quickly shut him up. Agnes and I pretended to see nothing.

Lastly, I visited Icarus’s exhibition. By the time I arrived, the venue was quiet with fewer visitors. I found his paintings, still landscapes as usual, but this time of an indoor scene. Our figures were subtly included in the delicately depicted rehearsal room.

Under other artists’ paintings, various flowers and sweets had been left. Under Icarus’s painting, which had nothing, I placed a bouquet.

***

“Are you really not going?” Agnes asked, stomping her feet.

But I had only one answer.

“I told you I’m not going. I don’t even have a dress to wear.”

“You should’ve asked me earlier! I could have lent you one.”

“It would take longer to alter the length of yours than to just get one tailored for myself. I never planned to go in the first place.”

At my words, Agnes’s mouth dropped open like the tentacles of a clam.

“Then I’m really going.”

“Sure, have fun with Senior Irene and Klaus there.”

“Don’t regret it later!”

Agnes stormed out but returned less than an hour later with a sulky expression and straight to my room. Regardless of my staring, she flopped down on the bed still dressed.

“So annoying.”

“What’s up? Why are you here already?”

“Just because.”

“Where’s the senior?”

“Senior Irene was so busy, she didn’t even enjoy herself at the party and was working the whole time, and Klaus… he’s quite popular, isn’t he?”

I got a lot of dirty looks just for exchanging a few words with him. And I didn’t even approach him first! Agnes was stomping her feet on my bed.

“Dressed up and all, I just get mocked for pretending to be a noble in a dress. I should have just stayed here with you.”

If you dress up, they criticize you, and if you dress down, they say you look like a commoner. What do they want? Agnes muttered. I couldn’t find any words to respond to the despicable behavior of those at the academy. I had no choice but to lie down next to her.

‘Maybe I should have gone too.’

“Want to go see the senior when it’s about to end?”

“…”

“Senior must have been troubled the whole time; let’s celebrate just us after it ends. Okay?”

While saying that, I poked Agnes in the ribs. She shriveled up like a squid then stretched back out. I poked her again. She shriveled and stretched again. Giggling and loafing around, before we knew it, it was almost time for the party to end.

When I opened the closet door to carelessly throw on a coat, I suddenly saw the outdoor slippers placed under it.

“Should I also bring the slippers for the senior?”

“Yes!”

When we arrived at the party, it was breaking up and all the students were leaving. Irene, one of the party’s organizers, looked tired as she surveyed the party venue until the end. We hid in a corner and earnestly winked at Irene until she recognized us…

When my eyes started to dry out, Irene noticed us and walked our way, leaving the final clean-up to the academy’s manager. Agnes and I quickly led Irene to a secluded spot, worried that people might notice us. With a confused look, she followed us, and we huddled behind a corridor curtain.

I swiftly whispered as I handed her the slippers.

“Senior, I brought your slippers. Please change into them quickly.”

“Why?”

Irene asked, genuinely puzzled.

“Huh? Well… because your feet hurt?”

“…If my feet hurt, why would I change my shoes outside?”