Chapter 141: Children Who Had to Grow Up (7) (Part 1)

[141] 22. Children Who Had to Grow Up (7)

If the boy had been a little older, would he have been able to find better words. Would he have been able to say that he was scared of being abandoned again.

It’s a meaningless hypothesis. In the end, the boy standing before Amy at this moment was only eight years old.

The boy averted his gaze and said.

“Sister, I’m okay.”

“What do you mean, ‘okay’?”

“…I think I’d be more comfortable at the cottage than there.”

Amy’s fingers dig into the boy’s shoulders. Though he winces, Amy doesn’t seem to even notice.

“Is it because those people make you uncomfortable? Or do you not like the house? Or is it…”

“It’s not that. I just, I just… don’t think it’s right.”

“What do you mean it’s just ‘not right’!”

Startled, the boy looks at Amy. It was the first time she had ever raised her voice at him like that.

“Why are you being like this all of a sudden…”

…And it was also the first time she glared at him with eyes brimming with tears.

“Sister, I…”

“Be quiet.”

But before her tears can fall, Amy wipes her eyes with her sleeve. Then, with her usual stubborn look, she gazes at the boy.

“Then let’s go back together.”

It was a completely unexpected response. The boy’s thoughts get tangled, and he stammers.

“Th-that can’t happen. Sister, you were the one to say that this isn’t a common opportunity. Just because of someone like me…”

“Rem, I told you before.”

Amy’s hand grabs the boy’s tightly.

“That it’s meaningless without ‘us’. That if you’re not by my side, then it’s pointless.”

Her voice, a mixture of trembling and firmness. Amy pulls the boy along with a stern expression.

“Let’s go back, Rem.”

If he had claimed not to feel happy at that moment, it would have been a lie. After all, who likes being left alone?

It was only natural for him to want to go back to how things were.

But it was also natural for the boy to glance back at Sir Sinclair and his wife at that moment.

Sir Sinclair and his wife were already standing at the front door. Their eyes quivered as they looked at Amy, biting their lower lips as though they were holding something back.

Having been a lifelong bystander of happiness, the boy can’t help but understand.

That they truly considered Amy their daughter.

The scene he had just witnessed in the kitchen flashes before the boy’s eyes. A perfect scene, like from a movie.

He couldn’t bring himself to ruin that.

“Sister.”

Amy turns around to see that the boy has come to a sudden stop. His expression already holds what he wants to say.

“No.”

“Sister.”

“No, I said no. I don’t want to. It’s us. *Us*.”

“I want you to be happy, Sister.”

“Rem, I’m seriously going to get angry. I really…”

The boy hugs Amy as her back begins to tremble. He has to stand on his tiptoe because he’s still so small.

“It’s not like we’re never going to see each other again. If you miss me, you can always come visit.”

“But we’re ‘us’. If it’s not the two of us…”

“Sister, I’m okay.”

Amy’s body stiffens in his arms. The boy carefully pushes her away, wearing the brightest smile he can muster as he speaks.

“I can live on my own now.”

They had never been apart since escaping the orphanage. They had never considered the possibility of separating, and at one point, they had even believed they could be like this forever.

However, forever is a cruel lie. Or perhaps, an impossible wish.

The boy hugs Amy again. He does so with such force that the pain seems to shoot past his arms and reach his heart.

“Thank you for protecting me all this time, Sister.”

And with that, he put distance between himself and Amy for the first time.

Not knowing that this distance would never be closed again.

***

It’s the kind of spring that makes you want to call it a half-spring, rather than early spring.

Like an unripe fruit,

Or a sleepless night,

As if there’s still a thin layer of ice remaining,

As if there’s an unpleasant taste on the tip of your tongue,

As if the clean scent of new buds seeps into your nostrils,

As if the whole world staggers from lack of sleep,

That half-spring, March, arrived in the village. Seven months had passed since Amy became Sir Sinclair’s daughter.

Naturally, many things had changed in that time.

Amy grew into a girl befitting her age. No, in fact, she became one of the best among her peers.

Her natural beauty and cheerful personality. Moreover, with the villagers’ admiration for her father, Sir Sinclair at her back.

How could she not receive the people’s love?

The thieving girl who used to steal pies and fruit was gone. In her place was a mischievous but charming little girl.

And so, she stepped into the light.

…While the boy took steps back into the shadows.

Maybe it was because of the guilt he felt at not being able to adopt the boy as well. Through Amy, Sir Sinclair sent food and daily necessities to the boy, who, in turn, stopped stealing.

But unlike his sister, who walked among the people, the boy shut himself away in the cottage. He spent day after day reading the books Sir Sinclair sent him.

And the more he did, the less he spoke. Even smiles became rare.

At some point, the boy started to resemble the thick fog of the forest.

But how could everything change so completely?

There were also things that remained unchanged.

In particular, the relationship between the boy and Amy remained the same.

“Reeeeem!!”

The moment Amy spots the boy sitting on a tree stump, she charges at him like a wild boar. Before he can react, she pulls him into a hug and tackles him to the ground.

“You weren’t bored without your sister, right? You weren’t lonely all by yourself? Huh? Huh?”

For seven months straight, Amy came to see the boy every single day. Literally, not one day went by without her visit.

[Re- Re- Rem…! Si- Si- Sister’s here…!]

…Even on days when there was a heavy snowfall. The boy recalls a shivering Amy, covered head to toe in snow, looking like a snowman.

The boy sighs and pushes Amy away.

“Sister, you’re heavy…”

“Hey! You’re not supposed to talk about a girl’s weight! Don’t they teach you that in all those books you keep reading?”

“Sisteeer…”

“Okay, okay, I’ll get off…”

Amy pulls away from the boy with a dejected expression. But only for a moment, the moment she sits down on the rock, a playful smile returns to her face.

“So, did you really not miss your sister?”

“It’s only been a day since I last saw you.”

“A ‘whole’ day, Rem.”

At Amy’s sly grin. The boy simply rolls his eyes and turns his back on her.

“Just wait here. I’ll bring the food.”

But as soon as he turns away from Amy, a smile appears on the boy’s lips.

Knowing each other for so long, there were things he could tell for sure. Things like the healthy flesh on her arms and legs, or the way her smile has lost its shadows. Small signs of happiness.

“…”

…But at the same time, the distance that has formed between them comes into sharper focus as well. The distance, as human beings.

The boy picks up a tin plate, and in its reflection, he sees himself and Amy.

A dirty beggar and a shining girl.

Far from siblings, they no longer look like they even belong to the same species.

“Rem! Is the food not ready yet? This sister is starving…”

“Just a second!”

Well, if you think about it, this was bound to happen someday. Unlike the boy, Amy was an extraordinary person.

The boy forces away his bitter smile and places the food on the plate. When he looks back, it seems Amy is bored out of her mind, making strange faces as she leafs through a book.

“Ugh, how can there not be a single picture in this book? So inconsiderate of those who can’t read…”

Putting on a deliberately stern face, the boy placed the plate before Amy.

“Quit complaining and learn how to read too, Sister. You’re the daughter of a knight, after all. What are you going to do if you can’t even read.”

“Ugh, so naggy. I get enough lectures from my mom…”

“Then you should study.”

“…But studying is boring…”

Amy deflates while putting a piece of bread in her mouth. The boy gives a slight laugh and points at her waist.

“And that’s fun?”

It was a wooden sword, about the length of a practice arming sword. Its polished finish suggested it must have cost a fair amount.

A birthday present from Sir Sinclair.

Grabbing hold of it, Amy flashes a bright smile.

“Of course. Can’t you imagine how fun swordsmanship training is?”

“Well, I’d rather just read more books.”

“Come on, why don’t you try training with my dad, just once? Lately, you’ve been cooped up in that cottage all the time, doesn’t it make you feel bloated and stuff?”

If words had a physical form, Amy’s words at that moment would have been as transparent as glass. Her intentions were all too obvious.

In this manner, Amy would sometimes, quite often actually, try to bring the boy back to the house. She wanted to change the boy’s mind.

Of course, the boy’s answer was always the same.

“Not at all.”

Someday, after much time has passed, he might let himself get tricked into accepting that offer. But not now.

Not when the wound is still fresh.

To hide his bittersweet smile, the boy made a deliberately sullen face.

“Also, don’t speak with your mouth full. Doesn’t Mrs. Sinclair scold you for that?”

“…Rem, I was wrong. So can you stop nagging me…?”

Seeing her surrender so quickly, the boy ends up snickering.

Amy shoots him a sulky glare, then pointedly changes the subject, as if dissatisfied.

“Anyway, Rem, did you hear the news?”

“What news?”

Taking another bite of bread, the boy asks in return, and Amy shrugs.

“They say a new Baron is coming to the village next week.”

“Ah. Well, seeing as Baron Zott passed away, someone new does need to take his place.”

It was just last month that Baron Zott, who used to manage the village, had died. From a sudden illness.

Amy sticks out her lips in a pout and grumbles.

“Whoever it is, I hope they’re a little nicer than that Zott guy. I really didn’t like the way that old man always looked at me with those squinty eyes.”

“Well… honestly, it won’t make much of a difference who comes, will it?”

This village is a backwater among backwaters. How great of a noble could possibly be appointed here. Even Baron Zott, now dead, had been practically a ruined noble.

And more than anything, there was Sir Sinclair here. Whoever comes will have to defer to Sir Sinclair, the former Central Knight.

There was no way the villagers or the boy would come to any harm.

With that thought in mind, the boy shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m sure it’ll be nothing. Probably.”

***