If this is

the real end – 5

            Let’s

say there was a painting and a jewel. Then, the painting would be hung out in

the most conspicuous place in the mansion, and the jewel would be hidden in the

drawer of a dresser. These two items whose fate could be described as quite

contrasted, were given to us sisters by our father. In terms of beauty, the

object I received didn’t lose. But, there was a heavenly difference in their

values. A painting drawn by an amateur, and a rare jewel that didn’t have another

match in this world. While its rarity meant a price couldn’t be put on it, the

emotions invested into it were certainly not equal. From a third party’s

perspective, I, who received the jewel, might have seemed more fortunate. But

that wasn’t the case. That’s why I hided the squarely box which contained that gem

in the top drawer of my dresser. It wasn’t an object I had desired myself. I

didn’t want it. Such a thing.

*

*

            Staring

fixedly at the necklace adorning my chest, Silvia said “Nice for you, big

sister.” To her who pouted her lips in a truly envious expression, I returned a

wry smile. I simply didn’t know what to say.

“Are you

dissatisfied with my painting?” gently said father who was standing beside

Silvia, listening to her voice while combing her thin hairs with his fingers. Enjoying

the sensation of gliding his fingers in these smooth hairs, he repeated that

gesture many times. Not displaying a special reaction to that father, Silvia

accepted his gesture as natural. A daughter approaching marriageable age might

tend to dislike having excessive skin s.h.i.+p with her father, but for my little

sister it wasn’t the case. I guess they had a harmonious relations.h.i.+p as family

members. Outsiders would surely perceive it as such. And in reality too, that

was the case.

            … … But, only I was not included

there. I had never been glued like this to father, as far as I remembered, him

stroking my hairs never happened even once. From long ago father and I had been

alienated.

“Even

thought I took great pains to paint it for your sake ah…” Facing father who

said this with a depressed att.i.tude, Silvia became fl.u.s.tered and shook her

head. “Ah, no, that’s not it…! I’m sorry father…” Their appearances as only the

upper half of her body was lifted of the bed while she clung to father didn’t

look like they were lovers, but still gave the strange feeling that you wouldn’t

be surprised if told they were a couple. Despite the fact he was supposed to

approach the latter half of his forties, the virile looks of my forever

youthful father were famous to the point of being at the center of rumors even

in the n.o.ble society full of good-looking individuals. Seeing the fl.u.s.tered

state Silvia was in, father looked over her with affection and shrugged his

shoulders with exaggeration. “Hehe, well, it can’t be help that you said that.

Because it’s true that the stone I gave to Ilya was expensive.”

His line

of sight drifted in my direction when he said my name, but our eyes didn’t

meet. Since Silvia had mentioned me, he reluctantly turned his face toward me

but it didn’t have any meaning. The profile of father who retracted his gaze

back to my little sister eloquently showed how tremendously he loved Silvia. I,

who was watching this from a little distance away, was forced to take on the

role of a spectator like I was looking at the stage from the sidelines. I

wasn’t a character of this story. I wasn’t a supporting character, neither an

onlooker. Just a reader. I looked at the two of them cuddling together with

this feeling.

“… But, big sister, your necklace is

really beautiful. It’s the same color as your eyes.”

            Even

if we were only a third rank earl family, the estate still boasted of a certain

broadness so my little sister’s room was certainly not narrow at all. Because I

was standing quite some distance away from the bed, we couldn’t communicate

with each other unless we raised our voices. However, I had already received

the education of a lady. It was impossible for me to do such an improper thing.

Especially in front of father. But for some reason, the charming and lively

voice of my little sister didn’t sound like it was loud. I wonder if the soft

wind coming from the slightly opened window in order to refresh the air was carrying

her voice. Carrying it from the other side of that canopy which I could never

approach.

            I

could see the appearance of my spoiled little sister as her upper body was

leaning on father who was sitting on the bed. As Silvia kept repeating “How

nice,” father kindly admonished her, “It’s something I gave to Ilya as a

commemoration for her debut in the high society you know.” We weren’t at a ball

right now, and although it was a bit laughable to wear such a magnificent

pendant pared with plain casual clothes, but because Silvia had said she wanted

to see it, I had to grant her wish. When I opened the box, she said that just

looking at it was not good, and I couldn’t ignore the sulking expression of my

cute little sister as she protested, “Big sister, if you aren’t wearing it it’s

meaningless.”

            The

day I made my debut in the upper society, she was bedridden and her wish to see

the necklace couldn’t be fulfilled. That was probably why she said that. “The

debut in high society? Then it’ll be my turn this year!” Father looked over

Silvia whose checks were dyed in happiness with a gaze mixed with both

affection and pity. Silvia didn’t seem to have noticed, but whether or not she

would make her debut was uncertain. As she spent most of her days sleeping, she

didn’t have the time to receive the education of a lady, and above all her

study couldn’t catch up. It would be extremely dreadful for a pure and ignorant

child to enter a world where everyone competed to surpa.s.s others.

            Although

she was still a teenager, because she carried the name of our earl house, carelessness

will hardly be tolerated when our home will host a party. Besides, that child

was already overly excited just thinking about going to a ball. On the actual

day, there was a high possibility she would come up with a fever. The memory on

how she was allowed to enter the academy but on the appointed day she had to

stay in bed was still fresh. Seeing father’s reaction, I felt that my thinking

was right on point. However, it would be foolish to expressively tell

everything to her and make my little sister sad. Because I understood how much

father doted on Silvia and loved her.

            Certainly,

the jewel that decorated my neck was gorgeous and s.h.i.+ny, but it was not fitting

for the plain me. A lot of parents would buy that kind of things for their

beloved daughters as they would make their debut. Above all if you were an aristocrat

who valued his pride, it would be natural to prepare the top-quality products

to not embarra.s.s your daughter. Of course, it was also the case for this house.

But I knew it wasn’t offered out of love. The elaborate golden craftmans.h.i.+p

showed it was a high quality good, and the pegreen jewel arranged at the

middle of the pendant highlighted how befitting and worthy of a n.o.ble this

necklace was. If its owner hadn’t been me, this item would have been plenty

enough to adorn a n.o.blewoman. I understood why Silvia was envious of it. Rarely

allowed to leave her room, my little sister admired the princesses in fairy

tales. It was inevitable that she would harbor respect, awe and longing toward n.o.ble

daughters. That was why she wanted objects a girl from a n.o.ble family would

wear. However, ultimately, I thought it was only because she didn’t know about

the circ.u.mstances surrounding those gifts.  

“Let’s order one jewel the same color as these eyes.”

            One

day, suddenly, after having be called to father’s study, I was told this before

even hearing what it was about. Neither did he explain why he had called me

when we hadn’t faced each other for a while. He just said those words to the

merchant who had been here before I arrived. The merchant who received the

order respectfully agreed and like he was performing a magic trick, he took a

paper from his breast pocket and quickly drawn the picture of a necklace. Then,

with an expression akin to licking to his lips, he asked, “would this be

satisfactory?”

            For

a second, father who had surely noticed his reaction made a displeased

expression but that was all. It may be the usual exchange for them. The

merchant explained how much value the good had with great loquacity, lifting

the corner of his lips as he said how this necklace was more than fitting for a

young girl. Father never showed any interest and merely nodded once, leaving

the room after saying to hand over the bill to the steward. He never looked

once in my direction, going away without granting me the permission to

withdraw.

            The

merchant looked at the left-behind-me with a troubled face. He asked me if I

had any requirement or wish for the necklace with a kind of pitying expression.

I understood he was feeling sympathy for me. I was a pathetic girl whose father

wouldn’t even looked at her, only given her jewels. He was surely a merchant

who was dealing with several famous houses. I didn’t know what he thought, but

maybe this scene was one he had never seen in the other families. He probably

had never come across a father who bought jewels only out of compulsory

obligation. It was only done so that I wouldn’t disgrace our third ranked earl

house when I make my debut. So that we won’t look like a family who couldn’t

afford to buy some precious stones and be looked down by the others.

“But, father’s painting is even

lovelier than the necklace!”

            Silvia’s

voice flew to my ear as I casted down my eyes and the pendant came into my line

of sight whether I wanted or not. More than her words, it’s her innocent laugh

that made my mood sank. Put down beside the bed, the portrait of Silvia painted

by father was truly well-made. Many colors had been placed on the big canvas.

It expressed well the ephemeral beauty of Silvia. At the same time, it made you

feel an overflowing affection. It had the charm to attract the heart of anyone

seeing it. That painting let you understand it had been drawn very carefully

over time. 

            The

one who had painted it was none other than father. The same year he gave me the

necklace, he also offered that painting. “Hey, big sister. You think so too,

right?” When I was abruptly brought back to the discussion and tilted my head

in wonder, Silvia made a pouting expression. Please, listen properly to the conversation, she protested as she

pretended to sulk. “Also, why did you come here today?” I couldn’t help but

feel embarra.s.sed being asked this question after all this time.

            Contact

with Silvia who was in bad physical condition should be kept to the minimum.

That was the promise I made to mother a long, long time ago. Therefore, taking

a distance from Silvia who was still in poor health until a few days ago and had

yet to return to a normal state was natural for me. However, Silvia said with a

saddened expression, “Even if you don’t stand that far away, you won’t catch my

disease you know.” It seemed she didn’t know about mother’s orders.

            Then,

wanted to comfort her, father didn’t hide the blame carried in his eyes when he

turned them toward me. Even though he should have known everything, he didn’t

seem to intent to cover up for me. Just saying, “your mother has order her not

to do that” would have been enough, yet he didn’t say it. As Silvia never

blamed mother it would be very unlikely for her to protest, but in the one in a

million chance she would, I supposed he decided to hide the fact his wife had prohibited

me from getting closer. I heard the distant voice of father as he whispered

softly, “what a cruel older sister.”

            I

thought it was a very harsh remark, but I understood that no matter what I did

it would be useless. That was because this house was revolving around Silvia.

Because father, the head of the family, did so and his spouse, mother, was the

same, the servants have also learnt to act like this. Because Silvia’s health was

poor, because Silvia’s physical condition was weak, because Silvia was

pitiable, because Silvia was lonely, because Silvia was, Silvia was… … I wonder,

until when was it again that I was saddened by this?           

            The

sole exception was only me. Only me could give priority to myself. While each

and everyone, including the servants, were busy worrying about Silvia, I was

sitting at my desk, holding onto a pen. Only I, the future marquise, was allowed

to do that. Even my parents never took this future for granted like it was the

natural course of events. At dinner, mother would smile and tell me, “Since you’ll be fine even if we leave you by

yourself, I can rest a.s.sured,” while father ignored me, keeping quiet. When

I was young, I thought this was proof that I was being trusted. But it was

certainly not. When was it that I understood I was merely being neglected? It

wasn’t that I was being praised for managing well even if I was alone, nor was

I being told that I would be fine even if I were to only be by myself. Since even if you are left alone, it’s fine,

I don’t have to care, was what was a.s.serted as she averted her eyes from

me.

            It’s

not like I was coerced into it. It’s not like I was told to work hard by

myself. However, leaving this unsaid was an unfair manner of speaking. So I

returned a lady-like smile. A perfect armor for the sake of not showing any

emotion. I thought it was the best reaction to take to face those n.o.bles. Then,

I gripped my pen once again and headed for my desk.

            I

knew that this alone could support me. Only knowledge, wisdom and education

would shape me. That’s why I had to work much more harder. No matter how many

times I repeat my life, only this was always the same.

*

            Since

it was decided I would be the fiancé of the marquis’ heir and I was introduced

to Soleil, most of my time was spent studying for that sake. Originally my

qualifications weren’t good enough. After all my memory was average and I

wasn’t very sociable. As much as possible I devoted myself to studying.

Secluding myself in the archives of the mansion, from morning to evening I hold

my pen and wrote.

            Since

the marquis house would have to interact with foreign countries, I thought it

would be better to remember as many foreign languages as possible, and it was

also necessary to know about the world history accordingly. Because I was

hoping that such trivial details could become advantageous in diplomacy.

Sometimes I studied with a teacher, sometimes by myself. I just single-mindedly

poured all my efforts to not become a fiancé that would embarra.s.s Soleil.

            Several

books were piled up on the desk. I thought they would become my strength. In

that silent room, only the sound of the pen gliding across paper echoed. The

black tea prepared for a break has already cooled down, but the maids never came

here. From time to time, Al would check on my condition but he didn’t speak and

just left. He was probably worried about breaking my concentration.

Because I

had sat down on the same chair for who knows how many hours, my lower back

hurt. At the time I stretched out and heaved a breath, the silence was cut off

by a faint laugher. There was only me in the archive, so naturally, it didn’t

come from inside this room. Lured by the high-pitched voice peculiar to a young

girl that resounded once again, I turned my eyes toward the window. The

sunlight s.h.i.+ning on the red carpet of the archives was dazzling. My eyes spontaneously

scrutinized the scene behind them. I could see the figures of Silvia and her

maids. They were walking on the sunny lawn as if bouncing on it. The maids were

hurrying after the silhouette laughing in a happy voice seemingly about to

start running at any moment. It was a nonchalant scene of a nonchalant ordinary

day. A scene neither special nor unusual. The only thing different was the

persons walking behind them, the master of our house, father. And my mother who

was walking further behind.  

I tilted

my head, wondering if today was a special day, and from above I overlooked the

figures of my parents and little sister walking in our wide garden, backed in

the suns.h.i.+ne. From the archives located on the second floor, I could really see

them well. I genuinely thought it looked fun, and I reflected on myself who was

lurking in the shadows to avoid the sunlight. My dark colored dress seemed kind

of ominous. The dress of my little sister fluttering in the wind was of a light

color, it looked like it was capturing all the sunlight. Although because of

her fragility there were a lot of times she wasn’t allowed to leave her room, a

bright place suited her well.  

            Eventually,

my seemingly-getting-along-well parents and little sister stopped in one place and

lunch was unwrapped before them.  The well-organized

maids had already brought a table from the mansion. When my fingers followed

their silhouettes across the gla.s.s of the window, it felt like I could touch this

happy and harmonious family, but it was somewhat painful. These archives were

the place I belong to, it was my job to drive knowledge into my head here. No

one said anything about this, and because mother was making an unusually

satisfied expression, I thought it was fine. Even now that feeling remained

unshaken. But speaking of interacting with my parents, it only happened during

dinner time. I didn’t even have a memory of having one conversation with

father.

            I

really wanted to hear is opinion on questions related to the territory

management but when I asked the servant to tell him I wanted to ask for his

instruction, my meeting request was rejected in one word, saying he was busy. With

a hint of sarcasm, I was told there was no free time, not even a few minutes to

spare for me.

            That

person was looking at Silvia with a smile, standing in front of a canvas placed

in the garden. From where I stood, I could see father drawing a picture, and I understood

my little sister was his model. Was it mother’s role to ascertain that? She was

standing at a little distance from this two, watching over them. Sometimes

laugher was mixed in their conversation, and its echoes were thoroughly delivered

to the place I stood. I was so far apart from them, and yet I heard it, how strange

that was.

            A

peaceful day. A day lively pa.s.sed with family. And I who was looking at it from

a distant place. Incidentally, my line of sight fell on the books of foreign

language piled up on the desk. I have to open them right now and learn the

words. Otherwise, I will lose to the other young ladies of my generation. Like

this, I don’t think now is the time to look at the figures of my parents and my

little sister.

            But,

but. My gaze refused to peel off them, in order to break it off, I took a step

back. Immediately my strength left me. I couldn’t support the weight of my

body. My right hand that I extended promptly brushed off the pile of books. Oh no, just as I thought that, the books

collapsed and at the same time the ink bottle fell over. The deep blue liquid

spread on the desk, drops of it felling from its corner one after the other, mercilessly

staining the books on the floor. Confused by the sudden incident, reflexively,

I reached out to catch the drops and stop the flow of the ink. From my fingertips

to my wrist everything was dyed dark blue, and while I didn’t know what it

represented, I thought that the real me might be dirtied all over like this.

            In

my repeating lives, I did everything in order to protect me. Even when I fell

as low as becoming a prost.i.tute, I kept my life by submitting my body. In order

to acc.u.mulate as many “today” as possible. That was my objective, and this and

only this became my life. When I thought so, I irremediably wanted to cry, but

when the urge to cry arose I strongly shut down my eyes. My clenched teeth made

a disagreeable sound. Even so, I didn’t want to loosen my lips. Because it

seemed like if I were to relax my strength even the slightest bit, sobbing

would leak out. I kept blinking over and over, waiting for my tears to scatter.

With both hands dyed black, I held on my heart atop my clothes.

            …

… On the day I made my social debut, the one who escorted me to do the courtesy

calls was Soleil. He looked at the pendant decorating my neck and said it was a

magnificent jewel. After praising the dressed up me, saying I was “beautiful”

in a tone devoid of any emotion, he continued with another comment, Your father’s love for you can be seen

through it. He had been right. As there was no other stones semblable to

the big gem that was the same color as my eyes, the color of dead leaves, it fetched

a high price for its rarity. It wasn’t wrong to say it was magnificent. It was

also not wrong to say father’s love could be seen through it.

            It

clearly showed how especially not loved I was.

            But

at that time, it was alright. Because after all, Soleil was here. Because he

was holding my hand, supporting my body when I seemed to be about to fell

because of my brand-new shoes I wasn’t used to. His cold, freezing gaze even

appeared lovely to me. Just the thought that one day, this man would become my

husband was enough to fill my heart with satisfaction. Probably no one else

would understand. Understand my craving for other’s warmth because mother

wouldn’t embrace me. Understand my feeling that an ordinary painting made by an

amateur, something that shouldn’t have any value, was more beautiful and

precious than any gem. How miserable had have been, living while telling myself

that it wasn’t like I wasn’t loved. That was why I unconditionally loved the

man who would become my husband.

“…… Have you ever tried to think why you aren’t loved?”

            In

one of my lives, there had been a person who told me this in that place. When

the sunlight felt on the pitch-black robe, I noticed it had just a little bit

of a tinge of blue. Even though it was a disturbing conversation, those black

eyes were completely calm.

“Just as there is no reason for loving someone, have you never thought

there might be no reason for not being loved?”

            Even

if I thought his porcelain face didn’t look human, I also thought it was affixed

with a somehow grieving expression. That being said, he didn’t seem to be

acting. I simply knew those eyes, those eyes that seemed to be doubting

everything and anything in the world. I was sitting down at the desk, holding

my pen like usual, but I couldn’t write down a single thing in the notebook.

Crow who had dropped his line of sight on that hand laughed once again.   

“Why”

            The

question echoed in the archives as the laugher from outside could still be

faintly heard.

“Why, has Crow…”

            My

voice trembled greatly. The pounding of my heart relentlessly grew inside my ears.

“… If there is no reason to love, then what you are doing may be

meaningless.”  

            Beyond

my hazy field of vision, I could see a white face awkwardly smiling at me. That

Crow would have such a human expression so unlike him made me laughed. Seeing

me like this, Crow answered while directing his gaze toward the window, “Even I

laugh.” I told him that I knew it was meaningless, but maybe because he didn’t

hear my murmuring voice there was no answer… …

“Why, here,”

            My

fingertips were cold. The me and the Crow inside my memory had certainly exchanged

those words in the archives. But, until know, I hadn’t remembered it. No,

rather than that… … I didn’t even have the memory of it.

            In

the past, I was a person who never forget anything. For that reason, I thought

I could never cast aside my love. But as my lives piled up my memory became

cloudy. There were things I could recall and things I couldn’t do so anymore.

It was surely like this.

            …

… There might be something, something very important, that I have forgotten.

Nocta’s talkative note:

First, the most important:

“Since

you’ll be fine even if we leave you by yourself, I can rest a.s.sured,”

Since even if you are left alone, it’s fine, I don’t have to care

I don’t know if I made the nuance

clear. In the 2nd sentence, Ilya’s mother is saying “you don’t

matter, I don’t care about you, there is no need to worry about you whether you

are left alone or not.” That kind of heartless words. The j.a.panese raw were

great about those two sentences. Hardly any words changed but the meaning

completely did.

Now, let’s ramble and chatter:

Aah I died. It was too long.

Moreover, it was only huge, compact paragraphs of words. Usually I respect the

author’s disposition of the text, but this time I cut down the paragraphs to

make it more readable. You might also have been wondering why sometimes the

dialogues are standing alone on a line and sometimes they are in the middle of

a paragraph, or even in italic, but that’s all because I’m keeping it the way

the author wrote. Even though I think it’s really messy.

Regarding this chapter’s content,

hehe last time we discovered how neglected Ilya had been by her mother, now we

see her father is even worst, he doesn’t even bother pretend to like her. And

there is the painting! Foreshadowed in a previous chapter as being hanged in a

corridor, like a simple decoration, it actually had much more meaning! It’s the

proof of how much their father love Silvia more than Ilya! And this painting is

only the beginning, mwahahaha.

Next chapter is as loooong as this

one. I should make it one time, because next week is golden week and I have a 4

days weekend. I’ve many things to do however. Paperwork to apply for a Master,

another translation project I’m working on which is reaching its deadline,

homework, and most important: going out to play, watching anime and reading! 

Oh yeah, anyone playing Hogwarts

mystery? I’m in Ravenclaw ^^