PLTSVA 24

Even though it looked suspicious to anyone, I walked briskly while hugging a thick, ancient-looking book. Garnet and Sister Serin repeatedly offered to carry it for me, but I steadfastly refused to let it out of my hands.

Perhaps it was fortunate they didn’t ask about the book’s contents.

Back in my room, I tucked the book under my bed. I planned to read more of it later—at night, to be precise.

And now, that time was almost here.

The time for my debutante lessons.

It was a customary rite for noble young ladies of my age, where they would step into high society and attend their first ball under their own name.

A crucial moment to show off their beauty and dance skills to secure their place in society… Yes, it was important.

Except—

“I can’t dance.”

This was a serious problem. Rumors had already spread through society that I was a commoner at heart. If I made a mistake during my debutante performance…

Worried, I stared down at my feet.

There was once a time at the orphanage when the children had danced during a makeshift celebration.

I tried to refuse by waving my hands, but the kids dragged me in, and I ended up dancing a few steps.

That day, my partner Luca ended up with bruises all over the tops of his feet. I still remembered exactly what he said to me with a smile:

“Ria, you really can’t dance, huh.”

Exactly. Whoever was doomed to be my first dance partner at the debutante ball would need serious foot protection. I needed to train—intensely.

As soon as the clock struck the hour, I jumped to my feet.

Following Garnet, who had been waiting at the door, I headed to the room where the dance instructor had just arrived.

“One, two, threeee—! No, that’s not it!”

Again. Miss Belly, my dance teacher, clutched her beautifully styled hair in frustration.

Her once elegant hairstyle was now a tangled mess.

“You have to move like a butterfly!”

I was getting used to her unusual accent, but my mind was in chaos.

It was an honor to receive my first debutante lesson from Miss Belly, who was famously known as the empress of the dance world.

I was sure many noble daughters still waited eagerly for her visit.

Yet, here she was, slowly losing her graceful composure in front of me. I actually started to feel bad for her.

She should’ve just given up—but she never did.

At her command to move like a butterfly, I tried to imitate her, and she ended up practically convulsing.

“This… this can’t be happening! A young lady with no flexibility at all!”

This was still just the basic lessons, without a partner.

Watching me sweat buckets from a distance, Garnet and Sister Serin looked like they were about to cry.

From their lip movements…

“She’s not a butterfly, she’s a caterpillar… Miss, sob…”

“Garnet, is our Ria going to be okay…?”

Yes. I also held back tears and looked back at Miss Belly.

“I’ll try again.”

Even so, this wasn’t something I could run from. I hated being laughed at. And now, I didn’t want to disgrace the name Layaes that was tied to me.

Miss Belly must’ve seen the determination in my eyes. She said she’d show me once more, so I could try to follow properly this time.

Her waist bent gracefully, legs flowing smoothly downward, arms and hands moving fluidly like water.

Even doing a quarter of that would be a success.

As Miss Belly instructed me to try, I did my best to recall the image and move accordingly.

Like a swan—my silver hair swayed along my back.

The sun began to set, shadows fell across the room, and soon only the sound of my footsteps echoed within.

“…”

I straightened my posture, wiped my sweat, and asked:

“…Was that okay?”

“Lady Raveria… it was dreadful.”

“…What?”

But it felt right! I swear I copied her exactly!

Yet Miss Belly’s face only reflected the painful truth.

“Lady Raveria, have you ever learned swordsmanship?”

…How did she know?

She answered my shocked expression.

“I’ve studied various martial arts along with dance. From your movements, I could see the martial arts of the Eastern Continent, across the sea.”

It had been a long time since I let go of the sword. But did my body still remember?

I looked down at my hands. Unlike my past life, these hands were clean, unmarred.

“It may be just my opinion, but anyway! The problem is you’re holding too much tension. You’re not supposed to move rigidly, but let your movements flow like water.”

Leaving a few more tips, Miss Belly, now with wildly disheveled hair from her own hands, left the mansion with a promise to return in two days.

After washing away all the sweat, I collapsed onto my bed. My body was far too exhausted to make it to the dining hall, so I asked to have a light dinner brought to my room.

But to poor Garnet’s dismay, who had gone to fetch it—I fell asleep.

I vaguely heard her voice a few times, but just like in my previous life when my mom tried to wake me, I kept mumbling, “Ten more minutes—” about five times.

Then, on the sixth murmur of “Ten more minutes—”

SMACK!

“Ah!”

I let out a dying shriek as something smacked me hard across the back.

Wh-What? Was Garnet mad at me now?

Well, I did push her patience…

“Sorry, Garnet. Thanks for bringing dinner…”

My voice sounded unfamiliar.

“What are you mumbling about? Are you still dreaming?”

“…”

Suddenly, my whole body froze.

Because—impossibly, incredibly—she was right in front of me.

“Mom…?”

She was standing there, hands on her hips, looking down at me.

“Mom, mom… is it really you…?”

Her odd voice, the fact that I wasn’t in the elegant Lares mansion room but in the small room I had grown up in, whose structure I barely remembered…

And her face—shocked, confused, unmistakably hers.

I couldn’t believe it.

As a child, I had prayed twenty times a day at the orphanage, begging to see my loved ones again.

The indifferent heavens had never answered my cries. But now, somehow…

I jumped up and flung myself at her.

“Oh my, what’s gotten into you? Did you have a nightmare?”

She looked flustered, but she patted my head with a warm hand, and I wept into the fabric of her clothes.

“Mom… I’m sorry. That day you said you’d come get me, and I didn’t listen… I’m so sorry…”

She could only try to soothe me without understanding, as I clung to her crying for several minutes.

“You need to get ready for kendo class. Stop crying and come downstairs—we’ll talk in the car.”

“Kendo class…?”

After she left, I looked at my hands. Unlike the soft, delicate hands of Raveria, these hands were rough, especially in the areas that had long endured the bamboo sword.

Most of all—

“There’s no scar…”

What I saw was unbelievable. If I had truly returned to my original body, then the injury that ended my athlete career should have still been there.

On my desk calendar, I spotted the 16th circled multiple times in red ink.

“No way.”

Even my old phone lit up when I picked it up.

[20XX / X / 16]

It was the day of the national kendo team selection match.

During the car ride, memories of a specific day returned vividly.

I know it sounds crazy—but it was this day in the past.

When I was twenty-three.

I had finally earned a shot at the team selection match, thanks to my dojo master’s recommendation.

I poured everything into it—my entire life—for this one moment.

I wanted to be my parents’ pride in a family where three generations had been on the national team. I’d held a sword since I was a child who didn’t know any better.

But on the very day of the match, I sustained a severe injury that required dozens of stitches to my hand and wrist and led to nerve damage. I lived with its aftereffects forever.

It was an injury caused by someone else—a senior from my own dojo who always picked fights.

Even he hadn’t expected the injury to be that serious. But the accident ended my career, and it made the news:

“Promising kendo athlete Ms. Lee suffered a serious injury caused by a confrontation with her senior at the dojo just before the national team tryouts.”

“According to experts, even if her hand heals, nerve damage may hinder her future athletic career.”

“The news shocked the nation—Ms. Lee came from a family with three generations of national athletes. Many called for strict punishment against the senior.”

“There were also concerns over dangerous materials left around construction sites. If the broken glass had been cleared, she wouldn’t have suffered such severe injuries.”

“The perpetrator received a sentence of six months in prison, suspended for one year.”

“The public protested that the punishment was too lenient for someone who destroyed a young athlete’s future.”

“The senior was a first-time offender and was reportedly mentally unstable at the time…”

I watched the news buried in my blankets, my heart feeling permanently bruised.

Even as my parents tried so hard to make me smile again, I could only pretend.

They cried more than I did. At first, I was angry with them for hurting more than me, but eventually, I realized that smiling was the best thing I could do.

So I tried to forget, to say that this path just wasn’t mine. To lie to myself.

Even after recovering, I had to keep hiding my trembling hands with the other one whenever I was with friends.

Until the day I died in that accident on the bus coming home from a part-time job.

“…”

But somehow, here I was—alive—on the very day everything had happened.