An awkward silence hung between us.
And the most irritating part of it all… was the guilt gnawing inside me.
That feeling made me nauseous—like I could vomit just by remembering the stupid words that had slipped from my mouth.
Ah, damn it.
How could I even say something like that?
I knew I was being emotional, but still… I should've been able to think clearly.
Damn it. What the hell was I doing?
How am I supposed to fix this?
Would a simple "sorry" be enough?
No. Of course not.
After everything I said, that one word feels too light—too cheap.
Damn it… what should I do now?
My mind kept running in circles, searching for an answer, but the more I thought, the emptier it became.
So the question remained:
What should I do?
Thinking won't help anymore. Maybe I should just act.
I turned to look at her—Viola.
Her head hung low, eyes fixed on the table, refusing to meet mine.
And just seeing that… made my chest tighten.
I wanted to speak, but no words came out.
I wanted to comfort her, but I didn't know how.
I wanted to apologize, but I couldn't bring myself to say it.
In the end, I just sat there—hating myself a little more with every second that passed.
The more I thought about it, the more I felt like trash.
"…"
The silence dragged on for minutes, until a familiar voice cut through the air.
"Hey, Viola… and Clement."
I turned toward the voice and saw Clare standing by the doorway, waving her hand casually.
She walked closer, wearing a slightly annoyed expression.
"Why are you two so quiet? It's creepy, you know?"
When she reached our table, her eyes darted between us.
"Whoa, what's with this atmosphere?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.
Then her gaze landed on me.
"Hey, Clement… this is your fault, isn't it?"
Her tone was flat, but her words were sharp and cold.
She knew. Maybe because she'd known Viola for a long time.
"Yeah… it's my fault," I admitted softly. Lying wouldn't help anyway.
Clare pulled out a chair and sat beside me.
"Haah… I don't know what happened, but you better fix this!"
She stared straight at me. And even though I knew she was right, I still had no idea how.
Like I said before… I'm not good at this kind of thing.
"Yeah, you're right… but how?" I muttered, uncertain.
"Hah, are you stupid? Just say sorry. How hard can that be?"
"Is that really enough?"
"Of course it is. If you did something wrong, you apologize. That's the most basic thing, isn't it?"
Her words were simple, yet somehow… something inside me stirred.
I took a slow breath, then turned toward Viola.
I stood up.
"Viola," I called softly. She lifted her head, eyes empty.
"I—I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those things."
She said nothing.
"Viola, please… forgive me."
Still no answer.
"Viola, I'll do anything you want… just forgive me."
And with that, I'd just spoken the most dangerous line in human history.
"…Anything?"
Her voice was soft, but piercing—and for some reason, hearing it made me feel relieved.
"Yes. Anything."
"…Alright then. I'll forgive you. But don't forget your promise."
Her tone was sharp, but her eyes softened ever so slightly.
And before I knew it, a faint smile formed on my lips.
"Then, I'll be going," she said, standing up abruptly. "Hmph."
I watched her leave until she disappeared into the crowd.
Well, that's fine. She's still mad—and I can't blame her.
It all started with me, after all.
"Thank goodness you two made up," Clare said, leaning back in her chair.
"Yeah… thank you, Clare-san. Without you, I wouldn't have had the courage to do that."
"No problem," she replied with a grin. "I just don't like seeing my friends fight over something stupid."
"Friends…?" I pointed at myself, unsure.
"Yeah, friends. Or do you not want to be mine?"
"It's not that. It's just… we only met this afternoon."
"You worry too much," she said lightly. "You don't need a reason to be friends."
I paused, then nodded slowly. "You're right."
"Oh, by the way, what did you two even fight about?"
I explained everything—from the start, from the words I said to the way I made Viola cry.
"Trash," she said bluntly. "Seriously, how can you hurt someone just because they care about you?"
I nodded. It hurt to hear, but she wasn't wrong.
"Yeah, I know. But… seeing someone care for me for no reason—it pisses me off somehow.
It feels like I'm being pitied. And I hate that."
"I see…" she said with a small smile. "Well, that makes sense.
So—how about we celebrate?"
"Celebrate?" I blinked, suspicious.
"Yeah, let's drink!"
"What?"
She immediately waved her hand in the air. "Hey! Bring us some drinks!"
"Clare-san, what are you doing?" I asked, panicked.
"Ordering drinks, obviously. You can't celebrate without them," she replied casually.
"Eh… maybe I should go home." I started to stand—already sensing financial disaster.
"What's wrong, Clement? Are you scared? You're a man, aren't you?"
"I'm not scared. I just don't want you making me pay for it."
She grinned mischievously. "Then let's make it a contest. Whoever passes out first pays!"
"A drinking contest?" I asked, hesitant.
"Exactly!"
Honestly, I wasn't good at this sort of thing.
But… a man doesn't retreat with pride. He advances, even if it means losing.
"…Fine," I said at last.
And that night, for the first time, I did something crazy.
And the result was surprising—I won.
You might ask, how?
Well, simple. It wasn't my first time drinking.
Back in high school, I'd tried it once or twice—during the time when I was sick of everything.
Just a few sips, but enough to know… I could handle my alcohol.
I wonder what will happen tomorrow.
Maybe something will change.
Who knows.
But for the first time in a long while,
I'm looking forward to tomorrow.
And just thinking about it…
makes me feel alive.
____