MOOD FOR LOVE (7)

“Cough! Cough! Ugh…!”

“Are you okay?”

Bnuel handed me a handkerchief. I carefully took the handkerchief, making sure her outstretched fingers didn’t touch me. Then, as I wiped my lips and top, I became lost in thought. What had Mille said when she first entered Elbiron?

She definitely said, ‘Let’s meet mom and dad.’ That’s right. Bnuel was certainly a beautiful elf, but she wasn’t a widow. The moment I touched a woman with a husband, I would transform from a comfort specialist into an ordinary philanderer.

I composed myself and looked at Bnuel. She was staring at me, waiting for the answer to come out of my mouth.

“Don’t you have a husband? You shouldn’t do this.”

“Husband?”

But Bnuel made a puzzled expression at my words and asked again, tilting her head. Then after thinking for a moment, she nodded with a strange exclamation.

“Ah, you heard from Mille. I’ve been divorced for a while. My husband and I had somewhat incompatible tendencies.”

Should I be happy that she said she was divorced? I was at a loss because the excuse had disappeared, so I could neither reject her coldly nor accept eagerly. I had said it would be nice to live here, but that didn’t mean I wanted to live here as Mille’s father.

Moreover, if I were to be with Bnuel, how should I treat Mille from now on? I didn’t want a well-functioning party to collapse because of a romantic relationship. Bnuel said:

“He wasn’t that good of a husband. He didn’t try to understand Mille. Mille is such… a kind, thoughtful child. But he didn’t try to see those aspects at all.”

I looked at Bnuel. Indeed, a strange emotion was felt from her. If other elves were like looking at a barren desert, she was like a plain where dry reeds swayed. A faint emotion, like water pooled in a corner, made her feel like a living, breathing being.

I said to Bnuel:

“You’re emotional. Unlike an elf.”

In some ways, it was a discriminatory remark about elves, but Bnuel didn’t seem to mind such words. She looked down at me, blinked her eyes, and then firmly closed her mouth. She seemed surprised by what I said. She briefly looked around, then looked down at me again and asked:

“Am I emotional?”

“Aren’t you thinking a lot about your daughter? I’ve only seen you and Mille as elves who think about family.”

“…Is that so?”

Bnuel smiled. Her glasses were foggy from the dawn moisture, and Bnuel naturally took them off to clean them. Through the wiped glasses, moisture appeared and disappeared, and Bnuel’s smile also faded like a mirage. She returned to her blunt face and said to me:

“I’ve never understood Mille. My parents never understood me either. To elves, children were beings who had to receive harsh training to elevate the tribe’s name if they had excellent talents, or beings who had to be educated to become a functioning person if they were incompetent.”

“But you love your daughter like this, don’t you?”

Bnuel shook her head. She said:

“What do you think my dream was when I was young?”

“Wasn’t it to be an archaeologist?”

I answered by recalling her current profession, but there was no way I could guess an elf’s career aspirations. Undeterred by my careless response, Bnuel began her story again:

“It was to be a diplomat. A wonderful diplomat. Not my dream, but strictly speaking, it was my parents’ dream. My parents believed I had the talent to bridge the gap between elves and humans. Despite living so diligently, I eventually couldn’t become a diplomat. Just following words, I was swept away and somehow became an archaeologist.”

Bnuel didn’t continue with the next part of the story. With the silence that followed the end of her words, it was clear that her life had not been smooth.

“You too, are a lonely person.”

I said that unthinkingly. Bnuel looked at me and shook her head.

“I don’t know. Did I seem lonely to you?”

“I’m from the Empire. I grew up in the Empire and dreamed in the Empire. Until I saw demons falling in chunks from the sky, I was an Empire person. When I came to my senses, I was living like this in the kingdom.”

Bnuel smiled again at those words. If all elves had been like Bnuel, wouldn’t they have been called a quite interesting race? She laughed for a long time looking at the grass, then said to me:

“We are similar people.”

“But we can’t love each other. I don’t have the confidence to embrace a comrade’s mother.”

I also had to think about what would happen after embracing her. I didn’t want to become Mille’s father. Mille wouldn’t want that either. We had to end this journey as good friends traveling together.

“You’re cold-hearted. I don’t say such things to just anyone.”

Bnuel said that as she fumbled in her pocket. She pulled out a cigarette from a small box and held it out to me. I shook my head and said:

“It’s not for you, is it?”

Bnuel lit the cigarette and looked at me again. The wet smell unique to dawn fog mixed with tobacco scent, creating a distinctive atmosphere. The smoke rising from Bnuel’s fingertips was like incense.

“I don’t want that kind of love, where you try to dedicate your life to a man you don’t even know, for the sake of your daughter.”

Bnuel silently looked at the air. The ridge was obscured by fog, but the buildings were still emitting light through the fog. Like dozens of lighthouses sending signals to protect a pier.

“Was I a good mother to Mille?”

Bnuel asked me again, putting the cigarette in her mouth. Recalling Mille’s bright appearance, there was only one answer I could offer.

“I think you were a sufficiently good mother. You raised her so brightly.”

“But I wanted to be a better mother. My mother was never a good mother to me. After becoming an adult, I never visited home.”

She blew out the cigarette smoke again, and white smoke hazily filled under the eaves. Today’s weather seemed like it would rain. Water droplets were falling onto the grass that had seemed wet from dew.

“I wanted to be a home for Mille. Something that Mille could return to and feel like family. Those… human things.”

Just then, heavy rain poured down. Elves wandering outside rushed into their houses without hesitation, and the guard cursed as he looked for a raincoat. We surrendered our bodies to the chilly dampness felt as the rain splashed, watching the village become soaked.

“Human things. I think it’s a strange phrase. I crave things I’ve never properly learned in my life, and I want to give them to my child. Is that strange? Is this… something a bit incomprehensible?”

Bnuel looked at me again. Her face was filled with desperation and confusion. I said:

“Everyone is like that. People who love, are usually confused because it’s their first time. That’s why they make mistakes, make wrong choices, and fight with each other.”

Bnuel’s fingertips trembled. I carefully took her hand and said:

“I can understand. If I had a child, I would have done anything for that child too.”

Stroking the back of her hand, I could feel her delicate skin and prominent veins. Grasping her white fingertips tightly, massaging from the fingertips, I found myself pulling her wrist and kissing the back of her hand. Bnuel flicked her cigarette into the rain and said to me:

“No one has ever loved me. All elves are like that. They don’t expect understanding or love.”

She pulled her hand from my grasp and stroked my cheek. The fingertips that had traced my rough skin approached my lips. Carefully leaning forward, she met my eyes and said:

“So this is what it feels like. To have someone understand you, to open your heart and talk.”

And carefully extending her head, our lips overlapped.

When I cautiously pushed my tongue in, her stiffened shoulders trembled slightly, and her teeth that had been blocking the inside of her mouth hesitantly opened. With a faint tobacco scent, I coiled around her tongue, and as I exhaled, her eyelids fluttered, and her rough breathing movement stimulated me as well.

“Haah…”

Bnuel looked at me with drowsy eyes, her face flushed. A morning where the rain was falling heavily and we couldn’t even appreciate the landscape outside the village. Perhaps our two figures would be silhouetted as just having a wholesome conversation.

“Teach me love.”

Bnuel’s voice came to my ear. She tightly embraced my neck and demanded in a sorrowful voice:

“If you can’t be Mille’s father, teach me enough love so that I can love Mille.”

Both Bnuel and I knew that those words were just an excuse.

The party members still asleep and the open door on the second floor.

I tightly embraced Bnuel’s head and kissed her once more.