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The dorms at Aramis Academy were usually quiet at this hour.
Usually.
Agnés paused in the hallway, brow furrowing. She’d come to return a book Renne had lent her, but as she approached the familiar door, she heard something unusual: Low whispers... a but too sultry for her to figure out what was being said, but it was clear there was something happening. Perhaps a voice chat with her Liberlian friend? Renne was known for being homesick sometimes. It'd only make sense.
“…Renne…”
A soft laugh followed. Breathless.
Agnés blinked.
Then... Thud.
Not loud, but unmistakable. Like someone had stumbled into furniture. Right... a voice chat couldn't do this. The thuds came steady, almost rhythmic, like footsteps keeping time with music.
Agnés stiffened. “Renne?”
Inside, the whispering abruptly stopped.
Another muffled sound. Fabric shifting. A quick intake of breath.
Agnés stepped closer and knocked.
“Renne? Are you okay?”
There was a pause—long enough to be suspicious.
“Yes!” Renne’s voice came quickly. Too quickly. “I mean... Yes, Agnes. I’m perfectly fine. Absolutely no reason to worry!”. Agnés pinned down that Renne was acting weird. She couldn’t exactly tell what was off about her exactly, but the rushed tone didn't fit the girl. It was not like Renne to EVER be flustered.
Another soft thump in the background.
Agnés narrowed her eyes. “What was that?”
“Gravity,” Renne replied smoothly. “It continues to function.”
Was she... Deflecting? Renne?! Agnés knocked again, a little firmer. “Why does it sound like someone’s in there?”
A hushed whisper inside: “She’s not going away.”
Renne’s low voice murmured something back, too quiet for Agnés to catch, but the tone was unmistakably flustered. Not only flustered, though. It sounded a bit amused.
Agnés’ eyes widened. The whisper's tone reminded her of someone. She knew it was someone she was familiar with... It was in the tip of the tongue. Her mind wandered to the voice, and then...
“…Van?”
There was a sharp inhale from inside. Agnés flipped the door handle. It wasn’t locked.
Renne’s voice followed, higher pitched now. “Agnés! Wait. Don’t come in!”
“Why?”
“No reason! Just, give me a moment!”
Agnes folded her arms. “Renne..."
A pause.
Then hurried footsteps. More fabric rustling. Something bumped into what sounded like the desk.
“Careful...” The voice muttered.
“I would be careful if someone hadn’t—” Renne hissed back before cutting herself off.
Agnés’ face flushed red. “I’m coming in if you don’t open this door!"
“Don’t!” Renne said immediately. “I’ll open it! Just... Wait!”
Another ten seconds passed.
Finally, the door creaked open.
Renne stood there, framed by the dim light of her room. Her purple hair was slightly mussed, cheeks faintly pink. She wore a shirt that definitely did not belong to her: Far too large, sleeves hanging past her hands, hem brushing mid-thigh.
Agnés stared. She would recognize that shirt anywhere.
“…Is that Van’s?”
Renne blinked innocently. “Is it? I hadn’t noticed.”
Behind her, Agnés caught a glimpse of Van near the bed, attempting to look completely natural while very much not succeeding. His collar was crooked. His hair slightly disheveled. He raised a hand in greeting like this was a normal social call.
“Evening,” he said calmly.
Agnés’ eye twitched.
“…Why are you in Renne’s room?”
“I was just leaving,” Van answered.
“You weren’t,” Renne muttered under her breath.
Agnés’ gaze darted between them. “What were those noises?”
“Studying,” Renne replied instantly.
Van coughed.
“Intensely,” she added.
"What? Van is 25!"
Renne's eyes squinted, seemingly trying to find a way to properly explain what was happening. Agnes couldn't believe "studying" was the best Renne could come up with if she was trying to hide an affair. Just for that, she unconsciously started to buy it.
Agnés stepped forward slightly, trying to peer past Renne, making Renne shift immediately, blocking the view with suspicious precision.
“Agnés,” she said sweetly, smile a touch too sharp. “Personal space.”
Agnés squinted. “Why do you look flushed?”
“It’s warm.”
“It’s winter.”
“I run hot.”
Van coughed again, turning away to hide a smile.
Agnés noticed the faint red mark near Renne’s collarbone where the oversized shirt slipped slightly, and her eyes widened. She wasn’t sure if she was being gaslighted or if she was having a jealousy episode.
“…You told me not to come in.”
“Yes.” Renne said firmly.
“Why?”
Renne leaned a little closer, voice lowering just enough to make Agnés freeze.
“Because,” she said softly, a teasing glint in her eyes, “I asked you not to.”
Agnés sputtered. “That’s not an explanation!”
Van finally stepped forward, adjusting his shirt. “Agnés, it’s nothing dangerous. I promise.”
“That’s not reassuring!”
Renne laughed. Light, melodic, and entirely fake. She was not pleased to be in that situation at all.
“We were just having a private conversation,” she said.
“With thuds?” Agnés shot back.
“Expressive conversation.”
Agnés looked between them one last time. The oversized shirt, Van’s barely concealed grin, the faintly rumpled sheets visible behind Renne. She slowly raised the book she’d come to return and shoved it into Renne’s hands.
“Fine,” she huffed. “I don’t want to know.”
Renne’s smile softened slightly. “Good choice.”
Agnés turned sharply and marched down the hallway.
Halfway there, she paused.
“…I’m knocking next time.”
“You should!” Renne called cheerfully.
The door shut.
And somewhere down the hall, Agnés very deliberately steadied her pace. She thought that... she wouldn’t be able to stand any more of that.
____________________________________
The click of the lock echoed louder than it should have.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Then Renne let out a long breath and walked back toward the bed, only to flop face-first into it, arms sprawled, purple hair fanning across the sheets.
“…Mood’s dead,” she muttered into the mattress.
Van stood there for a second before sitting carefully at the edge of the bed. “Yeah.”
Silence settled between them. The kind that wasn’t even awkward. Just heavy.
Renne rolled onto her side, staring at the wall. The oversized shirt slipped slightly on her shoulder, but she didn’t bother fixing it.
“We’re terrible people,” she said flatly.
Van frowned faintly. “That’s dramatic.”
“Is it?” Her voice lost its teasing edge. “Agnés… she likes you.”
He didn’t answer immediately. And that was answer enough.
Renne’s fingers tightened in the blanket. “And she’s my best friend.”
Van leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I never encouraged her. I don't have that under my control. I did my part by rejecting her." Van said drily.
"If anything, you did your best so that me and her got together. I remember you being very disappointed with me at the time.'
“I know.”
“And I’m not playing with you either.”
She turned her head just enough to look at him. His expression wasn’t smug anymore. His semblance was completely serious.
That almost made it worse. Teasing was Renne's way of dealing with her emotions. She could always pretend she wasn’t serious. But not now. There was no way out of it.
Renne sat up slowly, hugging a pillow to her chest. “She knocked because she was worried. Because she cares.” A small, bitter smile tugged at her lips. “And I told her not to come in.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Van said quietly.
Renne shook her head. “It doesn’t feel like that.”
Another silence formed. Outside, distant dorm chatter echoed faintly through the halls, normal life continuing as if nothing had shifted.
Renne lays back again, staring at the ceiling this time.
“I don’t regret being with you,” she said after a moment.
Van’s voice softened. “Good. Because I don’t regret it either.”
She swallowed. Looking into his eyes.
“I just hate that it hurts someone I care about.”
Van reached over, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. The gesture was simple. Careful.
“We’ll handle it,” he said. “Properly.”
Renne closed her eyes.
For once, she didn’t have a clever retort. No playful grin. No sharp deflection. She was scared. It reminded Van of when they first met, 7 years ago.
Just quiet.
“…No more tonight,” she murmured.
“Yeah.” Van agreed.