3

You soon hear a knock at the door, and when you open it, you find Robin ready to go, a bundle of papers in his arms. After making sure he has everything he needs, you set off towards the Town Hall.

It doesn't take long to arrive, and when you reach the building, you head straight through the entrance. From the look on Robin's face, however, it seems as if he wished the journey had taken a bit longer.

"Okay. So it's down the hall, and…"

Robin murmurs to himself as you step into the foyer, clutching his books tight against his chest. Once you're inside, he stops, gaze landing on a doorway in the far wall as if making sure he knows exactly where he's supposed to go.

But after a few moments, he still hasn't moved. In fact, now that he has his eyes fixed on the doorway, he seems to have frozen completely.

"Oh my god. I have to actually do this," he breathes. Swallowing, he turns stiffly towards you. "They're actually expecting me to talk about my research."

He stares at you wordlessly—and as you watch, he starts to shake his head.

"I don't know if I can do it," he says, something splitting in his voice. "I mean—I've never done anything like this before. Like, it would be okay if I was just turning in an assignment at school or something, but this is totally different. I haven't even written out what I'm going to say—I was just so focused on research that I didn't really think about how I was going to talk about it. What if—what if I don't even know what to say?"

He clenches his jaw, looking as if he's fighting very hard to remain calm on the outside. But there's no mistaking the way his eyes grip onto you then, as if he's suddenly desperate for you to come up with a reason why he can't go through with it after all.

But no matter how overwhelmed he is by the prospect of what he's about to do, he manages to keep himself in place. And rather than asking you for an excuse to abandon all of his research, he looks you in the eye and says hoarsely:

"How do I do this?" He takes a deep breath—and you realize that he's actually asking you. "Like—even if they like the research, I might mess it up just by not knowing what to say. Or—what if I just don't have enough to show them? Is there any way it could still work?"

His eyes plead with yours, and he clutches his books so hard against his chest that you're not sure how he can still breathe.

You're sure that if his research is good enough, it should speak for itself, but you can't deny that the right delivery might make a big difference. If there's any advice—any insight—you can give him, it could really help his chances of saving the archives. But of course, you'd have to know what you were talking about—especially if what you and Robin have managed isn't all that compelling after all.

If ever Robin could use your support, it's now.