Chapter 34 - Confrontation
The academy had begun to settle back into its routine.
Lectures resumed.
Assignments piled up.
Students hurried from one classroom to another as though nothing had changed.
Only the whispers remained.
Quieter than yesterday...
But no less persistent.
...
Amy sat alone in the classroom long after the bell had rung.
Students had already left in groups.
The room, once filled with chatter, had fallen silent.
She stared blankly at the notebook in front of her.
She couldn't remember a single word from the lecture.
A chair scraped against the floor.
"...Still here?"
Amy looked up.
Seren stood by the doorway, one hand tucked into his pocket.
"...Classes ended five minutes ago."
"I know."
He walked over and took the seat across from her.
For a while...
Neither of them spoke.
Seren had never been one to force a conversation.
Eventually, he broke the silence.
"...Have you talked to Lyra since the practical?"
Amy slowly shook her head.
"No."
"...I couldn't."
Seren nodded as though he had expected that answer.
"The rumors are getting worse."
"I know."
"I've heard them too."
Amy lowered her gaze.
"I don't know what to believe anymore."
Seren was quiet for a moment.
Then he spoke.
"...Then don't believe them."
Amy frowned.
"...What?"
"If you want answers..."
He met her eyes.
"...Ask Lyra."
"What if she still doesn't tell me?"
"Then you'll know she wasn't ready."
Silence settled between them.
"But if you never ask..."
"You'll spend all your time listening to everyone..."
"...except the person you're trying to understand."
Amy didn't answer.
She simply stared at the desk between them.
Seren stood.
"...Friends argue."
"...Friends get hurt."
"But they don't let strangers decide what they mean to each other."
He turned toward the door.
"...Whatever happened..."
"I don't think Lyra wanted to hurt you."
He paused.
Without looking back, he added quietly,
"...Don't let the academy write the ending to your friendship."
Then he walked away.
The classroom fell silent once more.
Amy remained seated.
Her eyes lingered on the doorway long after Seren had disappeared.
Finally...
She stood.
"...I have to hear it from her."
Lyra waited until the corridor had nearly emptied before leaving.
It had become routine.
The fewer students around...
The fewer whispers she had to endure.
She adjusted the hoodie once more and stepped into the hallway.
"...Lyra."
She stopped.
Amy stood several meters away.
For a brief moment...
Neither of them moved.
Then Amy took a slow breath.
"...Can we talk?"
Lyra lowered her eyes.
"...Of course."
They walked through the academy in silence.
Neither knew where to begin.
The afternoon sun filtered gently through the trees as they entered one of the quieter academy gardens.
The familiar maple tree swayed softly in the breeze.
Amy stopped beneath it.
Lyra stood a few steps away.
The silence between them felt heavier than any argument.
Finally...
Amy spoke.
"...Why?"
Lyra looked up.
"...Why didn't you tell me?"
Her voice wasn't loud.
It didn't need to be.
"I was your roommate."
"Your friend."
"We spent every day together."
Amy's fingers tightened around the strap of her bag.
"And I had to hear it with everyone else."
Lyra lowered her head.
"...I'm sorry."
Amy shook her head.
"No."
"I don't want an apology."
"I want to understand."
She searched Lyra's face under the hoodie.
"What happened?"
The question lingered between them.
Lyra's breathing faltered.
A scream.
Crimson flames.
Scorching heat.
A pair of terrified eyes.
Her fingers instinctively gripped her sleeve.
Amy noticed the movement immediately.
"...Lyra?"
"I..."
The word barely escaped.
Lyra swallowed.
She tried again.
Nothing.
Her chest tightened.
Every memory she had buried fought its way back to the surface.
She closed her eyes.
"...I can't."
Amy stared at her.
"...You can't tell me?"
Lyra slowly shook her head.
"...I don't know how."
"I've tried."
"So many times."
"But every time..."
Her voice cracked.
"...I can't say it."
Amy watched her in silence.
For the first time...
She saw something she had never noticed before.
Fear.
Not embarrassment.
Not shame.
Fear.
As though remembering was painful enough to make her stop breathing.
Amy's expression softened.
Only for a moment.
Then the hurt returned.
"...Did you ever trust me?"
The question struck harder than anything before it.
Lyra looked at her.
"I did."
"I still do."
"Then why?"
"I..."
Once again...
The words refused to come.
She hated herself for it.
She wanted to explain.
She wanted Amy to understand.
But the moment she reached for those memories...
She froze.
Exactly as she always had.
Silence answered in her place.
Amy slowly lowered her gaze.
"I kept wondering if there was a reason."
"I told myself..."
"'Lyra will tell me when she's ready.'"
A quiet laugh escaped her.
One without any joy.
"But yesterday..."
"I realized everyone else found out before I did."
Lyra felt something tighten inside her chest.
She took one hesitant step forward.
"...Amy."
Almost instinctively...
Amy stepped back.
It was only a single step.
A tiny movement.
Yet it felt like an uncrossable distance had suddenly appeared between them.
Both of them noticed.
Neither mentioned it.
The breeze carried a handful of maple leaves between them.
Neither moved.
After a long silence...
Amy finally spoke.
"...I don't know what to think anymore."
"I want to understand."
"I really do."
"But right now..."
She looked away.
"...It hurts."
Lyra lowered her eyes.
"...I know."
"No."
Amy's voice trembled.
"...You don't."
"If you did..."
Another silence.
She couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence.
Instead...
She whispered,
"...I wish you had trusted me."
She turned around.
This time...
Lyra didn't stop her.
She couldn't.
Amy walked away without looking back.
Her footsteps gradually faded into the distance.
Lyra remained beneath the maple tree.
Alone.
The afternoon breeze stirred the branches overhead.
A single leaf drifted gently to the ground between where they had been standing.
Lyra stared at it for a long time.
Then...
Almost too quietly to hear—
"...I'm sorry."
The words disappeared into the wind.
No one remained to hear them.
Only the empty garden.
And the growing distance between two friends.