"Later!" The word, the voice, the attitude.

No one had ever said "Later" to Alice when saying goodbye before. It sounded harsh, careless, dismissive—laced with indifference, as if seeing her again, or even hearing from her, didn't matter at all.

This was Alice's first memory of Tarrant that had recently resurfaced, the echo still fresh. "Later!"

She closed her eyes and spoke the words aloud, as if she were back in the Looking-Glass world, her Wonderland. Alice followed the white rabbit's path, passing through a vibrant garden, watching Tarrant turn at the tea table with that familiar smile, his tall hat bending his ears slightly. His shirt, ornate and billowing, resembled blue petals fluttering in the breeze; the open collar revealed a pale neck, exuding a subtle discordance and perfect strangeness. Then, he reached out his hand to Alice, inviting her to join the never-ending tea party.

Perhaps it all began there, in that place, in that moment: the grassy lawn, the warm tea on the long table, Tarrant Hightopp's gaze—an innocent paradise. Every whiff of tea seemed to ask, "Which path leads to endless delight?"

The summer dream. Rising once more in the boundless night.

Then, almost without thought, Tarrant waved his hand as if nothing ever ended. "Later," he said, as if all farewells were merely part of the tea party—light, aloof, and offhand. Tarrant's farewell carried no promise, but it was never a true goodbye either. His simple parting was both casual and full of hope—open to any interpretation, though he cared little how it was understood.

Just wait; he'll say the same to them, with that brusque and reckless "Later!" Meanwhile, they must endure the long wait imposed by time.

Alice felt a sense of loss. Tarrant was such an elusive person. Yet, she might grow to like him, even with his bewildering whims. However, in every subsequent dream, Alice found it increasingly difficult to forget him.

She was Alice Kingsleigh, captain of the Wonder. Each day she faced the sea and the stars, yet her heart remained bound to a dream. Whenever she stood on the deck gazing into the distance, the sea breeze brushing her face, Alice felt as though she were back at the Mad Hatter's tea party. The waves lapping against the ship's sides resembled the constant flow of tea from a teapot, and she could only touch him in dreams, feel that familiar warmth.

To forget her longing for Tarrant, Alice tried to immerse herself in the voyage, like a traveler fleeing reality, trying to forget those dreambound moments. Every summer, she sought new routes, navigating uncharted seas as if the endless winds and waves could dispel her yearning for him. But wherever she went, his shadow would appear whenever she closed her eyes. Even far from the dream, she could still feel that pull, as if he was always whispering in her ear.

Each encounter happened in dreams. An unending tea party, his hat and smile ever the same. Even in the dream, Alice knew clearly that they would part again; the scene repeated like yesterday, a loop that seemed unbreakable. They sat at the tea table, with her "special place" always set on his right. Only a clutter of disorganized teapots and pastries surrounded them, often without Thackery and Mally. Tarrant would listen quietly to her speak, occasionally interrupting, yet never making her feel truly disturbed.

Perhaps it all started with that tea party, or maybe at the end of every dream. Whenever she left, he always said, "Later," never lingering, never saying more. No matter how Alice pleaded or waited, he never promised to meet again—just looked at her with those eyes filled with wondrous light, then gently waved goodbye—"Later."

Alice could not confide her dreams to anyone, nor did she tell others that she always met Tarrant in her dreams. All of this might have begun with a dream meeting, or perhaps when she first woke from that Looking-Glass world. Tarrant seemed like a journey without end, and Alice willingly lingered at this endless tea party, just for the nightly two-person tea—a farewell she could hold onto, and the only reunion she ever had.