episode_0060
by fnovelpiaI gaze at the cloudless sky from a warm place.
Though it must be chilly, we’re in a greenhouse, so when I see the sunlight streaming down, it warms me up so much that it reminds me of a bright summer day.
“Wow, this is amazing!”
“It’s nice to look down from up here.”
“Take a picture, oppa! Take a picture of me!”
I was incredibly excited.
I lean more towards summer than winter.
When it’s cold, you shrink. Winter is just unbearable.
Summer might be too hot that it could melt you, but at least it’s not cold in summer.
I dislike the cold. I prefer warmth.
Oppa promptly took pictures with his phone every time I struck a pose.
“You practiced to get that perfect pose?”
“Oh… I just… It’s natural…?”
“How intriguing.”
I can never admit to practicing poses in front of the mirror.
The sky is blue.
Lush greenery surrounds us.
I remember reading a book before.
It was about a little one who decorates their house for a red lizard they raise, turning it into a natural habitat for the lizard.
It starts with bringing long and soft stones for the lizard’s natural stone bed.
But next, it gets strange yet fascinating.
They create a pond by running water into the house, open the roof to let birds in, and ensure trees can grow endlessly.
The birds eat bugs, bring more lizards, and make friends for the red lizard.
Before you know it, the house becomes a place too alien to call home.
And when everything is set for the red lizard to thrive in the optimal environment.
The little one falls asleep on the bed at the center of the house feeling nature, receiving the moonlight from the open roof, and beside the bed, the red lizard sleeps on the stone bed, and the story ends like that.
“Maybe living in the countryside wouldn’t be so bad in the future.”
“Yeah. The air you breathe changes.”
“But there might not be a convenience store or a hospital within a 10-minute walk.”
“That’s… true.”
The golden hour to save a life may also be delayed until death.
A bus every 10 minutes might take an hour. Maybe 30 minutes is the norm.
So what would change?
I said later.
By later, I mean when I’m already old.
Even if hit by a car, it’s practically treated as a natural death at that age.
By then, I might want to live in the countryside.
That’s why I don’t live in the countryside.
“Perhaps city life is still preferable. I actually like city night views.”
A hobby of stargazing.
City night views might as well be stars.
As long as they appear that way in phone photos.
Only the photographer knows what’s a star and what’s a night view.
After long-exposure shots, everything might look like either, so it doesn’t matter.
“I also enjoy watching night views with you. Shall we go see the night view today?”
“…Sure. I’d go anywhere as long as you’re there.”
“You might need to keep me warm tonight.”
It carried two meanings.
“I tend to run warm. My baseline temperature is high.”
Oppa accepted one meaning.
He might know, but I smiled happily.
If both don’t come true, just one will be enough for me.
I love a pure heart.
I like an honest oppa.
“The flowers are beautiful.”
“Yeah. The flowers are truly lovely.”
“That…”
What oppa was looking at wasn’t the flowers; it was me.
“You’re beautiful. You’re the prettiest flower I’ve ever seen.”
“Heh…”
I’m weak for things like this.
Words may be subtle, but you feel as refreshing as fresh fruit, almost like capturing a tangy taste, akin to a pineapple pizza…
I don’t like pineapple pizza, though.
“Just…feeling a bit…tangy?”
“Even though you know….”
But I can’t help but like it.
It’s not forced feeding; with a little more tasting and sweet words of praise, stripping away my hearing and sight, how can I perceive the taste through my sense of taste?
Just treating it as pizza and enjoying it.
Not looking at the pizza, but looking at you.
“How do I handle your cuteness. Saying beautiful things are beautiful. Can’t explain it in any other way.”
“Heh….”
“I love you?”
“Hmph….”
When will this freshness come to an end?
I still tremble before you, and you do too.
It’s not that I dislike this freshness, but… I need a bit more stability.
I might really collapse from arrhythmia at this rate.
“Jihye…?”
“…Hah. Really, I really wish we had a child.”
“E…eh?”
Having a child requires a lot of thought.
Pregnant women, who find it difficult to move around, develop a peculiar symptom called “pregnancy gingivitis,” as we imagine.
However, depression can arise or worsen, the belly swells, making it difficult to sit or lie down, especially causing a bulge in the abdominal area known as the linea nigra.
At an age when one wants to enjoy youth, inevitable scars emerge.
Both you and I will struggle.
Wanting to give birth, but if I do, I might end up hating the impulsive me.
“Ah…when?”
You hadn’t mentioned anything about thinking about having a child too early.
“Phew…but let’s just think about it for exactly a year. Well…we’ll take breaks, but I really…really want to think about having a child seriously.”
My idea of forming a boys’ soccer team with children is practically shattered.
It’s difficult to do so, and the suffering during that time spans decades.
No matter how beautiful one’s appearance is, once engulfed in exhaustion, beauty tends to fade away.
I still wanted to hear words of cuteness and beauty from you every day.
This was the conclusion I reached while browsing the internet.
I’m not ready to accept a baby yet.
I only thought it would be slightly more challenging than raising animals.
“…I want to keep being affectionate. I want to live happily every day like a newlywed couple.”
So, when I want to be happier in the future.
That’s when I should rethink.
“You’ve thought a lot….”
“When do you think would be a good time?”
If you were okay with it right now, this sentiment could easily sway.
“A baby…would be incredibly cute. But…thinking about how hard it would be for you…I think it’s okay to wait a bit longer.”
There are still many things I desire.
When spring truly arrives, I want to go see cherry blossoms fluttering beneath the cherry blossom trees.
In summer, wearing a swimsuit at the pool, laughing while watching your reaction, I want to play in the water together.
In cool autumn, even though pretty clothes abound, stepping on fallen leaves together on the street, it might not be cold, but holding your warm hand, going on an outing seems nice.
In the coming winter, I want to come back here again, reminiscing about the past.
“Just…hug me for a moment.”
I didn’t want to think like an adult just yet.
*
“Outdoors…”
“Isn’t it cold?”
“In that case, shall we skip this? I like it here because it’s warm.”
Taking a brief break, we entered the souvenir shop.
Given it’s a botanical garden, there were many plant-related products, making me consider adding a slightly nature-inspired touch to our kitchen decor.
“Cactus…! Should we try growing something like our cactus?”
“Well…I managed to make a cactus wilt before….”
“Ah. Of course, I should be the one taking care of it. If I’m just at home, wouldn’t it be neglectful not to water it while being in the kitchen.”
It’s a cactus that grows well if you roughly remember to water it.
Growing too well by mistake, it eventually started sprawling out, losing its center and tilting the pot as if it would fall over.
Living with the feeling that everything should be done in moderation, is that why?
Don’t obsess over things like adding just one more spoonful of food; half the time, it’s enough. And tastier, too.
Ah. Baking, on the other hand, doesn’t work that way.
If you knead the dough a bit too hard, it becomes tough. Adding a little more or less yeast can make the bread fail to rise or ruin it.
It even becomes difficult to know the reason.
Even if you ask the bread why it died or failed, it won’t tell you the answer.
“Did I add too little?” Even thinking that, the bread still won’t rise, and the yeast dies.
That’s why I don’t bake.
Whether bread is made based on a 5g or 6g difference decides its success or failure, trying over and over only led to frustration.
Thankfully, my brother prefers rice over bread. He also likes tonkatsu, you know.
“Oh… they packed it like this.”
I sit on the bench and confirm what I bought.
They packed it in a plastic box to prevent getting pricked by the cactus spines.
I chose the prettiest cactus.
It’s a cactus with a small pink flower growing on top of its head among the dense spines.
Even on parts that stick out like thorns, flowers bloom, giving it a peculiar rose-like appearance.
Is it like an extremely strict beauty?
Surely, if you were to ask for its number, it would send all sorts of curses with its cold face.
What could a cactus be thinking about?
“Ah. And this.”
“Uh… the flower looks dried…?”
“Yeah. Tea. I heard tea is good. For… that.”
As I hesitantly speak, a smile forms with the corners of my mouth lifting.
Perhaps my brother has learned that warmth is appreciated by women.
I’m genuinely happy he cares, but… I don’t really like tea. If I have to drink something, I prefer coffee or green tea.
“Thank you. Truly, there’s no one like you, brother.”
Now I have to start liking tea.
This is inevitable.
He’s going out of his way to care for me; how could I show a displeased expression?
“…Do you dislike it, by any chance?”
“No? I like it.”
However, my brother tilted his head.
How did he see through this perfect smile?
“No… You seem to dislike something unknowingly.”
“Uh… no, I don’t.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Did I get caught?
Still suspicious, but my brother shrugged it off as a mood thing.
Should I toughen up more?
It’s an act of hiding dislikes.
“…Actually, I don’t like tea. It’s not that I completely hate it, but it just feels like water with a scent…”
He gently grasped my sleeve.
My brother let go of my hand.
He held my hand and wrapped it with both of his.
“Yeah. Somehow, I felt that might be the case.”
My brother was smiling happily.
I, who tried to hide, and my brother, who just smiled.
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