2013-11-06

The Diary of Ellen is a book by Fummy based on his RPG Maker horror game The Witch’s House. It tells the story of Ellen prior to the game.

This is Chapter 4, “A Girl Who Was Loved.” There are five chapters in total. You can start from the beginning here.

I encourage you to buy the book for yourself. (Amazon) Supporting Fummy is always good, and there are some really nice illustrations by Oguchi, who did the cover.

——

Chapter 4 ~ A Girl Who Was Loved

Then a girl came over to play.

A cute girl with golden braids.

…Don’t go too deep into the forest.

That’s what my father had always told me.

All the adults in the village said the same thing, so it seemed like a platitude said to children who wanted to play in the forest.

The wind blew, making my skirt and golden braids sway.

Holding the hair out of my eyes, I looked up. Through gaps in the green branches above my head, I could just barely see the blue sky.

It was a hot summer afternoon.

And there I was, in the forest.

There was a great forest near the village I lived in.

The forest, which was bountiful year-round, was very useful for the villagers. I liked to pick flowers there myself, and it was a familiar playground to me.

I stepped on the twigs with my leather shoes.

I walked the forest with a hazy feeling.

I’m going to play in the forest, I casually said. At my back, father said it again.

Don’t go too deep into the forest.

He said it just as casually, I felt. I let it slip through my ears as usual. But for some odd reason, his words seemed to clutch at my chest today.

I was thirteen now.

Do you really think I’d get lost in the forest, dad?

My father, a hunter, was always going into the forest. There were adults who went looking for wild plants, too.

It wasn’t like they couldn’t go deep in the forest. Why tell us we can’t go? There seemed to be no reason at all.

Such was my thought as I walked along, going deeper than I usually did.

I hesitated slightly, but I knew my way back. I kept walking.

There was tall grass all around, probably because people rarely went this way.

I soon grew tired and sat down on a moderately-sized fallen tree.

There were little white flowers around the tree. As I gazed at the lovely flowers, I thought.

They had the same name as me - Viola.

Though I didn’t see them often, as this wasn’t their season.

I loved flowers. Just looking at them seemed to make time pass in a blink.

A pleasant wind blew at my hair. Just sitting there in the wind made me feel like I was a flower myself.

A perfectly calm forest.

It made my eyes droop shut.

…And then -

Rustle.

I nearly lept up in surprise at the noise from the thicket behind me. As I turned around, my father’s words filled my head again.

What would I do if it were a beast? But there couldn’t be beasts in such shallow forest.

Wiping away a cold sweat, I saw…

Meeoh.

A black cat, meowing in a very low voice.

It looked at me with gold eyes, swinging its long tail.

After my breath stopped for a moment, I took a deep sigh.

"Whew…"

I giggled, laughing at my silliness.

"Come here."

I squatted and beckoned to it. The cat curtly turned its back to me, so I hurried to my feet.

I thought it was running away, but it wasn’t so. It walked slowly within my sight, turning back to me and meowing again.

I stood there and blinked.

Was it saying to follow…?

It seemed strange to think, but that was how it seemed.

I didn’t think the cat was inviting me into a world of dreams or anything like that, but my feet naturally followed it.

It stepped into a thicket, taking a path I didn’t know.

Perhaps at this rate, I would be going deep into the forest…

I hesitated. But only for a moment. My haste at losing sight of the black cat led me to jump into the thicket.

I walked behind the black cat. Past the thicket were paths barely wide enough for a person to walk along.

After a while of walking up and down slight inclines, an open area came into sight.

It was a little flower garden.

Red bell-shaped flowers and blue flowers bloomed in a mixture.

Who knew such a place was here? I delighted upon seeing the flowers. I squatted down to pick one, and the black cat meowed to call me.

When I looked up, I saw it sitting between a gap in the trees, looking my way. It seemed the path went on.

The cat didn’t wait for me to stand and went deeper.

"W-Wait!" I raised my voice, but knew it wouldn’t stop the cat. I hurried to my feet and reluctantly left the flower garden behind.

I followed the black cat between the trees.

And there appeared before me -

"Wow…"

A great garden teeming with red roses.

A sigh slipped out my mouth.

There was a single path ahead of me, as if adorned by the roses around it. And there were all kinds of flowers, not just roses.

At the end of the path was a great mansion.

I felt like I really had been taken to a world of dreams.

I followed the cat up to the mansion.

I looked up at the two-story building. A red roof sat atop dark stone walls. There were flowers decorating the windows. The house stood as if concealed by the trees surrounding it.

The cat slid through the front door of the house. Had it already been open? The door didn’t close, but remained slightly ajar.

As if pushed by the aroma of the roses, as if invited in by the cat, I opened the front door.

"Good day…"

I timidly said. No reply came. I took one step on the pink carpet.

The house was somewhat dark. There were red roses atop polished desks. It didn’t seem to be abandoned.

Suddenly, a shadow crossed my vision.

My body stiffened in surprise. It was the black cat.

I sighed.

"Gosh, don’t scare me…"

The black cat looked me in the eye and teasingly swung its tail, then proceeded down a passage.

I followed it.

I passed through numerous rooms. Walking through a kitchen, I noticed a heated pot boiling. Yet I saw no one around.

Thinking it strange, I followed the cat up some stairs.

On the second floor, there was a long hallway. Bright light came through the windows, illuminating the roses.

There was just one door at the end of the hall. The black cat stopped in front of the door, folded its legs, and looked up at me.

Open it, it seemed to be saying.

Was someone waiting for me in there?

I took the handle with unease, and a little bit of anticipation, and pushed the door open.

It was a small room.

Light dimly came through the window on the opposite wall, shining on a bed in the room’s center.

The black cat lept up from my feet to the windowsill. And as if to say its tour was complete, it sat there and relaxed.

Holding my hands together over the front of my stomach, I slowly walked on the flower-patterned floor.

There was a little girl sleeping in the bed.

I went around to the side of the bed, stepping quietly. When I saw the girl’s face, my linked hands unconsciously went to my mouth.

The girl had long purple hair and worn a red ribbon. But the girl’s face was nearly covered in bandages. The bandages had dark black splotches, and the uncovered parts showed bits of the swollen red skin underneath.

The veins could clearly be seen on her skinny neck; no doubt the body concealed by the sheets was thin and bony.

I only didn’t think to run away at the sight because of her beautiful, glossy, purple hair.

Slam.

Suddenly I heard the door shut, and I turned around. I thought someone was coming in, but I was wrong. The unclosed door had just swung closed.

I was relieved, and looked back at the girl on the bed.

And I caught my breath.

The girl opened her eyes and looked up at me.

Perhaps the sound had woken her. She slowly blinked. She turned to face me with gold eyes decorated with long eyelashes.

"Who’re you, miss…?"

The girl whispered in a voice like bells, yet slightly dry. Perhaps that was because she’d just woken up, or because she hadn’t spoken in a long time. It could be either.

I panicked. It wasn’t only guilt for coming into the house uninvited. I was also made nervous looking into her eyes.

I couldn’t look away and answered.

"I… I’m Viola."

"Viola…"

The girl repeated my name in her mouth as if to confirm it.

Her lips were cracked, and she looked very pale.

After some time, the girl asked.

"You’re not scared?"

"I’m not scared."

I quickly replied, but trembled at the end.

Never mind that her skin was covered with bandages; what I saw that wasn’t covered made it easy to imagine what they hid.

It was clear she wasn’t in a normal condition. But the girl lying on her side before me was just a girl.

It would be easy to avert my eyes in disgust. But I felt too sorry for her to do so.

As if to prove the truth of my words, I kneeled on the floor, putting myself on eye level with her. Her head followed my movement. In so doing, her purple hair swept down.

I smiled for her, and she lifted her lips into a relieved smile as well. The seeming pain of her movement made my own heart hurt.

Did she have terrible burns? Or did she have a disease that affected her skin?

Without my asking, the girl spoke as if reading my thoughts.

"I’m… sick," she said, looking away from me.

"I’m sleeping here because I’m sick. I’ve always been here. You’re the first one to visit me besides the doctor, miss Viola. So… I was surprised."

It was a voice on the verge of fading away.

I thought I had to say something. But I didn’t know what to say.

She reached a hand from the sheets. Each and every finger was carefully wrapped with bandages.

Her trembling hand reached for me. I took it as if accepting something important.

"I’m… Ellen. Will…"

Looking from hand to shoulder to neck, I was met with her - Ellen’s tears.

"Will you be my friend?"

There was no chance I wouldn’t nod.

The sick girl - Ellen, seemed to be confined to this house in the forest.

People who attended to her lived in the house with her. Not family, it seemed. From the way she spoke, she didn’t seem very fond of them.

She seemed to be in particularly poor condition that day, so we just talked a little, then I went home.

When I promised I would come visit her again, her eyes sparkled and she smiled.

I went down the hallway, and down to the first floor.

The pot in the kitchen that was boiling before had stopped.

So there was someone here. Perhaps the doctor she spoke of.

I looked around for a person, but I couldn’t find anyone.

"Pardon me," I said to no one in particular, and went out the front door.

I walked through the rose garden, and in no time found a familiar path. Looking back, I saw nothing, only green forest.

Had that house really been there?

Had that girl really been there?

That was how I came to think.

I left the forest onto a flat, traveled road. The sun was setting, and the distant fields and village roofs were dyed orange.

Oh, no. It was the time when father returned from work. I hurried home. My mother had passed early in my life, so it was up to me to prepare dinner.

As I made dinner, I recalled Ellen’s house.

The garden of deep red roses. The mansion surrounded by trees. The bedridden girl who lived there as if in secret.

She was certainly not from around here. I’d never seen anyone with gold eyes around. Her light purple hair was rare as well.

Perhaps she moved here from a distant land. Perhaps to cure her sickness, she came to the forest with its clean air.

But it was astounding to me that such a big house would be prepared for such a small girl.

Perhaps she was the daughter of someone rich and famous abroad. A princess, even.

A dog barking outside returned me to my senses. Father was home. I went to the front door to greet him.

2

The next afternoon.

I ate lunch, and washed the cutlery. I dried the washing, and took a breath. My chores for the day done, I left for the forest.

Because I promised I’d come visit her again. I felt somewhere in my heart that yesterday had been a dream, so in part, I also wanted to confirm that.

I walked the familiar forest path and headed for her house.

Though I’d only walked the path once, I didn’t get lost at all, arriving at the garden of red and blue flowers.

Exiting the thicket, I saw the rose garden and red mansion. The same thing I had seen yesterday.

No, it hadn’t been a dream.

I turned the handle. The door wasn’t locked.

Was it left open for me? Actually, it wasn’t locked yesterday, either. Perhaps it was so the black cat could come through.

That seemed unsafe. Perhaps people coming in at all was very rare.

"Viola!"

When I opened the door, Ellen quietly shouted at the sight of my face.

The girl who had yesterday been bedridden now sat up in bed, her back resting against a big pillow.

She seemed more well than yesterday.

There were a few unfinished books around her bed, and a round table beside it with a steaming teacup.

"You came back… I’m so glad."

Ellen narrowed her eyes to look at me. What kind of expression was this? My chest was pounding.

Though her face was covered with bandages, the gesture helped me to see her as no different from a normal girl.

I pulled a chair close to the bed and sat down.

Again, I had seen no one on the way to Ellen’s room.

But seeing her bandages freshly replaced and the tea on the table, I was sure there were someone tending to her in the house.

There were two cups of tea.

Seeing me notice it, Ellen spoke.

"That’s for you, Viola."

Had the person caring for her prepared it for me?

"Can I?"

She nodded yes.

"Thank you."

I took the teacup.

The white cup was decorated with flowery line patterns, and looked very expensive. A big difference from the dull cups at my house.

Ellen slowly reached for her tea. It was such a small hand, and it trembled. I even found myself thinking “finally” when she at last grabbed the cup of tea.

Ellen smiled, noticing my concerned gaze. I smiled too, feeling a little shy.

As I drank, I looked around the room.

The white walls had not a stain on them. The furniture was gorgeous. Little shelves were packed with colorfully-bound books. Expensive vases held beautiful roses.

I looked at her ribbon and one-piece. The fabric was so high-quality, I was almost jealous.

This girl must be quite loved, I convinced myself. For I believed the money spent on her must be equal to the affection she received.

As before, the black cat slept at the windowsill, collecting the rays of the sun on its black body.

"Is that kitty yours?", I asked.

Ellen inclined her head.

"Hmm… Not really. He just sticks around."

"Really?", I replied, finding it unexpected.

Meooow, the cat went as if replying.

I felt like he was saying “That’s not true,” and I laughed.

There were now two empty teacups on the table.

I heard a bird flying off very near the room. Was there a nest there? I looked out the window in thought, then back to Ellen.

"Hey, Ellen. You didn’t always live here, right?"

"Yeah," she nodded.

Her hands were neatly folded on the sheets.

"I came here a long time ago. …How’d you know?"

"Because of your unusual eye color."

She blinked them. Then she smiled, as if remembering.

"Oh yeah. I read that in a book, once."

She took one of the books beside the bed and opened it.

"There aren’t any people with gold eyes here, right? Let’s see… Look, here it is."

I took the book from Ellen and looked at the indicated page.

Indeed, it talked about the history of people’s eye colors in the region.

But I was surprised by how small the words were, tightly-packed on the page.

Just reading it made my head hurt. Could a girl younger than me really read such a difficult book?

I asked, not taking my eyes off the words.

"Ellen, can you read books like this?"

"Yeah. I can’t go outside, so reading is about all I can do…"

Hearing Ellen’s voice suddenly droop, I looked up. She was hanging her head.

She didn’t just read because she liked to.

"You can’t go outside?"

"Yeah."

Ellen looked up with realization.

"I-It’s not contagious or anything. But my legs… it hurts to move them."

I followed Ellen’s gaze to her legs. Though I couldn’t tell their condition, hidden by the sheets.

"I see…"

That was all I could say. Hoping to change the topic, I asked cheerfully.

"Hey, Ellen, how long have you been here?"

She shook her head.

"I don’t know. I was just… here. I used to live somewhere else, but… I don’t really remember."

"What about your father and mother?"

She shook her head again.

"I used to live with them. But… I haven’t seen them since coming here."

I couldn’t immediately believe her.

They prepared such a wonderful house for her, yet wouldn’t come to see her?

But her face told me everything. I grew sad, and was desperate to uplift her.

I chose my words carefully and was cheery.

"I’m sure they’re busy with work."

Ellen looked at me.

"Work?"

"Yeah," I nodded, looking around at the furniture in the room.

"I mean, they have such a big house for you to live in. That must take a lot of money. And there’s the cost of medicine, too. They must be too busy working for you to see you often, Ellen."

"Hmm…"

Ellen lowered her gaze, thinking.

She rubbed her bandaged fingers together.

"…They’re working… for me?"

"Right!"

One more push.

"It’s all for you, Ellen. My father’s always coming home late because of work, too."

"I see…"

Ellen thought, her head still lowered.

Soon, I saw the sparkle return to her eyes.

She looked up, took the book from me, and clapped it shut. I was a little surprised at the sound. Her gloomy face already gone, she looked at me and smiled.

"Hey, Viola, your eyes are green, right?"

I faltered at the sudden and obvious question.

"Huh? Yeah."

"Your hair’s sparkly like the sun, and your eyes are like glossy leaves. It’s so pretty. Can I see them closer?"

I laughed nervously at the suddenly cheerful Ellen. But it was much better than seeing her gloomy.

"My eyes aren’t that interesting…"

"No, they’re really pretty. Show me."

I shyly brought my face close to Ellen. She played with the ribbon in my braid with her little hands, looking into my face.

We stared at each other up close. I wasn’t sure if I was seeing blood vessels passing through her gold eyes because of her sickness, but they emitted a strange color.

Looking at them so close, I felt like I would be sucked in. Ellen’s eyes were far prettier than mine.

From her body came a smell unique to sick people, a smell of medicine.

Her words - “I can’t leave” - flickered in my mind.

There’s someone who loves you.

It made me happy to know that.

That night, at dinner.

Father and I sat across from each other and ate.

I was staring off into space, thinking about Ellen.

"Something good happen today?", father asked suspiciously.

I had apparently been beaming without even being aware.

"N-No, nothing…?"

"Hmm."

After my curt answer, he didn’t say much more.

Father put a cut of meat in his mouth.

"It’s fine to go play, but don’t go too deep in the forest."

My hands stopped in the middle of tearing some bread, then I nodded after a little bit of thought.

Ellen’s house was in the forest.

But it didn’t seem like part of the deep forest that father was concerned about. I could reach it rather quickly, without getting lost.

On the other hand, “deep in the forest” seemed to describe Ellen’s house perfectly.

I felt a little awkward and went on eating, not looking father in the eye.

3

Early morning of another day.

"Going out already?"

Father spoke to me as I squatted in the front garden, tying my shoes.

I turned around and saw father was about to leave, too.

"Yeah."

I stood up and straightened my skirt.

"Hey, you’ve got a string loose."

Father reached for my waist, but I moved away as if escaping.

"It’s fine, I can get it myself."

He silently shrugged his shoulders. I retied the ribbon around my waist and ran off.

"Be careful!", he shouted from behind.

He didn’t have to be that loud.

I curled my fists tight. I was too embarrassed to reply.

I ran into the forest.

In the shadow of the trees, I was liberated from the midsummer sunlight.

I caught my breath and wiped the sweat from my brow.

I had gotten very accustomed to going to Ellen’s house.

I felt like I was visiting a boy’s house in secret. Except she was a girl, a fair bit younger than me.

It was like a secret house. Standing there all alone, unknown to anyone. No one but me knew this place. No one knew her.

Only I had the ticket to the world of dreams. It excited me.

Ellen was a strange girl.

I was never that good at talking to people. I preferred to let someone else talk and listen attentively.

And yet when I was with her, I found the words came out smoothly.

I was just talking about trivial matters like what I had to eat today, or what happened in the village, but it all seemed fresh to her. She seemed to greatly enjoy listening to me.

Depending on her condition, she could be talkative or silent. The way her cat-like eyes spun from place to place as she spoke was very cute.

She knew all sorts of things.

Flowers effective for treating burns, plants effective for hurting throats.

When I told her she was really useful, she just laughed, “all I do is read.”

Sometimes she was able to perfectly guess the weather, to my surprise.

"I’m exhausted… I’m going to nap."

It was a day where the warm sunlight invited drowsiness.

Ellen talked with me for a bit, then said this. I nodded and helped her pull up the sheets. She thanked me, and sank into the bed.

A while later, she breathed quietly, fallen deep into sleep.

I leaned back in my chair, hearing it squeak. I closed my eyes as well.

Far away, I heard birds chirp.

This was a house in the forest. The air from the window was comforting. There was no chatter of people, no bustling noise.

Surely, living in a place like this would cure your sickness.

So I thought. But I opened my eyes and looked at her.

Was Ellen getting any better?

I thought about asking her, but I didn’t want to ask about her sickness.

Because I couldn’t do anything about it just by asking. Because she no doubt wanted to talk about other things.

I ended up falling asleep, too. I woke up with the cool air brushing my cheek.

I noticed there was a blanket over my knees. I was surprised to see Ellen’s face very close to me. She had her hand on my lap.

"Oh, did I wake you?"

She looked me in the eye and shyly laughed.

"I thought you might be cold… Ehehe."

Ellen was out of bed, and leaned against me with one knee up.

A leg protruded from her skirt. Its thinness made me shiver; it was like it didn’t have any meat on it.

Her bandages had come a little loose while getting out of bed, and I could see dark red skin.

Maybe it was just my eyes, but it seemed like bone was sticking out in places.

There were fresh red stains from her movement left around the floor.

It was the first time I’d actually seen her legs.

"Ellen! Your legs…"

"I’m fine. I can handle this much."

She smiled, but the smile seemed forced, and her handed gripped me tightly.

It reminded me how she’d said it hurt to move.

She couldn’t walk in this condition. She wasn’t fine. The sweat on her brow proved it.

And yet she got out of bed to put a blanket on me? Just for me? So I wouldn’t be cold?

It was so heartbreaking, I had the urge to hug her. But at the same time, I was troubled by the sight of her terrifying sickness.

"I can handle the cold fine. You really shouldn’t push yourself, Ellen."

"…Okay."

Ultimately, all I could do was help Ellen get back in bed.

I couldn’t look right at her red legs. They smelled like antiseptic mixed with blood, which made me nauseous.

I put Ellen in bed and pulled the covers over her.

She lied down and smiled in place of a verbal thanks. I feebly smiled back. There were still red spots on the sheets in the corner of my vision.

My sights wandered, and I looked to the window.

The sunlight came directly sideways into the room. It seemed much time had passed while I slept. The cool air made me shiver.

"You should get back before it’s dark," Ellen said.

"Yeah," I nodded.

After a brief pause, I stood up from the chair.

I walked to the door, and before leaving, I turned to Ellen.

"See you," I said, waving.

There was too much glare from the light coming behind her to see her expression.

I was disturbed, perceiving it as if she had no face. Why did such a thing even come to mind?

After waving to her, I left the room.

I walked down the hallway as usual, and went down the stairs. The creaking of the floor echoed far.

I walked with a hand to my forehead.

The image of Ellen’s red legs wouldn’t leave the back of my mind.

She was sick. I had completely forgotten, only looking at her face which acted healthy.

As I went through the kitchen with no sign of anyone, anxiety filled me.

Why did the person caring for her never show themselves to me? Yet they provided tea for me, and they let me come in.

Did they not want to touch her? Did they not even want to meet someone who had touched her?

I took the hand off my forehead as if taken aback, and looked at my palm. After staring at it a while, I shook my head to drive away my foolish thoughts.

It wasn’t contagious. Ellen told me so.

There was surely someone beside her, tending to her. They touched her, and wrapped her bandages, and gave her medicine.

She should be fine.

Perhaps I was affected by that smell earlier. I didn’t like myself for thinking about these things.

Creeeak.

Suddenly, I heard a door creaking, and I turned to face it. The black cat poked his face out from the wooden door.

"Oh, it’s just you, kitty…", I said out loud.

I acted like I hadn’t been surprised. The black cat looked at me. He usually greeted me with a low meow, but today he said nothing.

He stared me down, the black cat. His gold eyes seemed to match Ellen’s, startling me.

Wanting to get out of there right away, I ran for the front door.

I went outside as if my whole body were leaping out.

It was dark out, and the roses looked darker in the low light.

Walking through the rose garden, I looked back at the house.

It was nothing. It was just Ellen’s house, which I’d grown so used to.

So then why did the gray walls seem so oppressive, as if they were going to crush me? Maybe it was just the shadow of the windows.

The wind rustled, fanning up my heart. I shook the building anxiety in my head away and ran. To home, quickly.

With all my might, I ran through the garden and down the forest path.

Finally, I arrived home, and father was already there. “You’re late,” he quietly said. When he saw my face, his eyes sharpened.

"What’s wrong, Viola?"

I looked up at father, catching my breath.

I must have looked like I was about to cry.

When the magic of the witch’s house fades,

I’ll meet you in my true form.

You’re so kind.

I’m sure you’ll sympathize, won’t you?

4

The next day.

I wasn’t able to go to Ellen’s house.

I sat on my bed, holding my knees.

What was I afraid of? The house deep in the woods? How it felt like someone was lurking there? The roses in the garden that bloomed only for her? Her disgusting, swollen legs?

The sky was cloudy, reflecting my heart. As if finally giving me an excuse not to go to the forest, rain began to fall.

I watched the rain for a while, then finally, as if now relieved, roughly closed the curtains.

I lied in bed and closed my eyes.

I didn’t know if it was a dream or my imagination.

The image of bedridden Ellen came into my head.

It was Ellen after I’d given up on going to her house.

All alone in her room, Ellen waited for me to come.

I hadn’t yesterday since it was rainy. But it was clear today, so I’d probably come, she thought.

So she waited. But day after day passed, and I didn’t come.

Ellen worried that maybe something had happened to me.

But after waiting days, a week, a month. I still did not come.

Soon, Ellen realized I’d abandoned her.

I see, Ellen smiled, defeated. And she quietly sobbed to herself.

I woke up with a start.

I trembled. It wasn’t from fear. It was from shock, realizing the fact of how I was hurting her.

I got out of bed.

I flew out of my room, out of the house.

The rain wasn’t much, but it hadn’t stopped. Still, I ran along the wet ground.

"Viola?!"

Father, who was adjusting a hunting rifle inside the house, called after me in surprise. But I didn’t turn around.

I ran, soaked by the rain. As I ran, I recalled what Ellen said when we first met.

You’re not scared?, she asked.

She said that because she had seen people who feared her appearance.

Until now, she had been feared. All people kept their distance. Every time it happened, she despaired.

I told her I wasn’t scared. Perhaps I was the only one who lent her a hand.

…I was a fool.

To think I would fear Ellen’s sickness even now.

I bit my lip, filled with embarrassment and the desire to apologize to Ellen.

I don’t remember how I got to her house that day.

While running, I suddenly found myself in the garden of red and blue flowers. By the time I reached the rose garden, the rain had stopped.

The soaked petals took in the after-rain sunlight, glistening.

It was so beautiful, the depression I’d felt in this garden yesterday seemed like a lie.

When I opened the front door, the warm air kept inside leaked out. I took in the scent, and my tension seemed to evaporate.

I climbed the stairs and opened the door to her room.

Ellen looked up in surprise.

"Viola?"

When I saw her face, the fog in my heart was cleared at once. My sunken mood returned to normal, and I sat in the chair beside her.

Ellen looked at my wet clothes with worry.

"Why? Even though it was raining…"

"Well… um…"

I wasn’t sure how to express what I was feeling. I felt it was different from apology or embarrassment.

I couldn’t enunciate it well, but thinking it was how I really felt, I said:

"Because I missed you, Ellen."

Ellen’s eyes rounded in surprise. But soon, she smiled like a blooming flower.

Ahh. Look at that smile.

Because I’m her friend.

Because I’m the only one she has.

That was when I vowed:

No matter what happens, I’ll be with her.

The black cat sat by the window as usual, gazing outside the house.

Outside was a spider web, in which a butterfly was caught.

A beautiful butterfly with golden wings.

5

It continued all through the summer after that.

On sunny days, I would visit Ellen’s house. On rainy days, I would look out the window in the direction of the forest.

No matter how many times I came by, I never met the person who cared for her. It was truly a mystery how we never even bumped into each other.

Did they hide when I came? She didn’t seem to like her doctor very much, so she didn’t pay it much mind.

As far as I knew, her parents had showed no signs of visiting. Though I was sure she’d be overjoyed if they did.

If I weren’t around, Ellen would truly be alone.

Every time I saw her, my feelings for her strengthened.

I started to see that Ellen’s body was getting no better since when we first met, only worse.

Lately she was unable to even get out of bed, often bedridden all day. Those beautiful, wide-open eyes were downcast. Even her eyesight seemed to be getting worse.

What would I do when she wasn’t able to read anymore - no, worse than that, when she lost even the light?

She was fine before I started visiting. Was it because I started visiting?

Maybe she pushed herself to talk to me, and that made it worsen.

"That’s definitely not true," Ellen said.

"So please, don’t say you won’t come visit," she said on the verge of tears.

My eyes widened slightly in surprise. I whispered kindly to calm her.

"I won’t."

Ellen smiled, very much relieved by my assurance.

That smile pained my heart.

She could have cried. She could have wailed.

But this small girl always stubbornly smiled at me. She beared the pain of her sickness.

Something, either pus or blood, started forming in her eyes. I wiped it with a handkerchief, wanting to cry.

What more would be taken from Ellen? Would even the light?

I loathed her sickness from the bottom of my heart. At the same time, I knew there was nothing I could do - I was drained thinking of it like an opponent I couldn’t even fight against.

That sense of loss invited a quiet sadness in me. Heartbreak welled up from deep in my chest, came to my throat, and pushed itself out as words.

"If only I could take your place…"

I muttered to myself.

The words carried through the air and came back to my ears.

…Yes. If only I could take Ellen’s place.

If only she could go out and play instead of me. To run around freely in the sun, surrounded by flowers. While I could smile in bed and sleep in the meantime.

Suddenly, I heard a rustling of clothes, and looked up. She was holding out her hand to me.

I took it. It was cold. Surprised by its coldness, I put both hands around it.

She looked at me and smiled with her eyes.

I don’t know why it startled me.

She hadn’t said anything. She just looked at me. Somehow, it didn’t feel like I was being looked at by a girl younger than me.

"…Ellen?"

I asked it also in a sense of “what’s wrong?” Because I thought she might not be narrowing her eyes in a smile, but because she was moments from losing consciousness.

I must have looked worried.

Ellen smiled in her usual way, then said “Thank you.”

Her smile relieved me.

She quietly said, “You’re so kind, Viola.”

Wondering what she meant, I thought back on what I’d said.

…If only I could take your place.

The words had sort of just spilled out, but it wasn’t a lie. I smiled and held her hand tighter.

Her eyes began to cloud up at once. I thought I’d grabbed too hard and loosened my grip.

But her expression didn’t change, and I knew something else was making her eyes water.

She stared with distant eyes and said incomprehensibly:

"It’s like a dream that you’d be friends with little old me…"

She slowly blinked. It pushed a big tear out of her eye, soon soaked up by the bandages wrapped around her face.

The scene seemed to grab at my chest. I took her hand and made her look at me.

"Don’t talk like you’re "little old me." You’re sick, Ellen, but that’s not all you are. That doesn’t make you any different from other children."

"…Viola…"

She knit her brows.

"So don’t speak so little of yourself. I think you’re kind for being my friend too, Ellen. And I’m sure you’ll get better soon. One day you’ll be able to walk and play outside."

Ellen listened to my every word. Then she shook her head. It was very slight.

"No."

"What do you mean?"

"Because I’m going to die soon."

The words froze the pit of my stomach.

Die? Ellen? Die, as in go away? No. As in stop moving.

My hands gripping hers trembled.

My pulse quickened. My throat was dry, and I couldn’t speak well.

"…Why do you… say that…?"

Contrary to me, she was calm.

"The doctor said so. He said I’d die soon. Like he knew for sure. And he sounded happy. Why did he sound so happy? But I know why. I… Once I die, the doctor won’t have to bother with me anymore. He won’t have to begrudgingly replace my bandages, do all my… all the things he goes through for me anymore."

Her words didn’t seem to have any emotion in them.

I shook my head, looking at Ellen in disbelief. I was filled with hate for the doctor who would say such heartless things to a sick child, and pity for the girl who gave up and accepted it all.

She went on.

"…My father and my mother wish I’d just go away, too. So they’ll be happy when I’m dead."

"What are you saying?!"

I nearly screamed. She looked at me in surprise. I felt awkward seeing it and reflexively lowered my head. But I raised it again, pulling myself together, and bit my lip.

"That’s not true. It’s not. Happy you’re dead… they couldn’t be. I don’t know your father and mother, Ellen, but… there’s no way they could be happy their own daughter died. …They don’t want you to die, they want you to live… That’s why they’re having you get better here, isn’t it? They put you in this house so you’d get better, right?"

I looked at her face, hoping for her expression to change the slightest bit. But she just gave a little smile.

It was a face that had given up on everything. She didn’t seem to be looking at me, but through me into the distance.

"So my father and mother won’t come see me, will they? They won’t come because I’m sick. They won’t look at me. They’ll abandon me. …They didn’t put me here for my sake. They’re…"

Perhaps growing more pained as she spoke, she sucked up some saliva, then continued.

"Hiding me."

It was a low voice.

Hiding her.

I felt that carried many meanings.

"Because… The adults in the village all know me. But they pretend they don’t, and hide me in the forest."

Everyone knows Ellen?

That unexpected comment stirred my heart.

"…You didn’t know me either, did you, Viola?"

It was true.

I closed my mouth as if it had been punched.

I had never even heard of a house in the forest.

Hold on. Father’s voice came back to my mind. Don’t go deep into the forest, he always told me. Was it to keep this girl hidden?

There was a ringing in my ears.

…A troublesome sick child. Yet they couldn’t just abandon her. So they isolated her deep in the forest, where people would never see her.

The villagers were paid to keep it secret. I could feel myself tracing the adults’ thought process.

Then, was father among them?

An unpleasant feeling spread through my whole body.

As if guessing my thoughts, she looked at me with upturned eyes.

"…Your father isn’t at fault, Viola. Because I’m just a sick girl. Everyone’s afraid of me. They think it might be contagious. …I wouldn’t want to be with such a girl. I wouldn’t want her around. …I just want to hide her away."

"Don’t say that," I pleaded, holding her hand tighter.

I didn’t say it out of pity.

I just didn’t want to hear any more. About how my father, with the other villagers, might have worked together to hide her. But I didn’t realize that was the real reason.

I was confused.

On the other hand, Ellen was calm.

She had thought about things more than I realized. Living alone for so long, she had come to understand some things, and she had come to accept being alone.

I did what I could to clear father from my mind.

For now, I had to think only about her.

"If that’s true… Even if everyone is looking away from you, Ellen, and wishes you’d just die… I’d be sad. I’d be so sad if you died, Ellen."

That was the undiluted truth.

My honest feelings, bubbling up from the bottom of my heart.

"Hm…"

She cast her eyes down and nodded slightly.

Perhaps my feelings had come through; I felt the dark mist in her eyes parting.

"You know…"

Ellen mumbled. It didn’t sound gloomy, but rather was in her usual cute tone.

"Even if I can’t leave here, and… even if no one notices me. Even if no one plays with me. …And even if I’m not cured…"

Ellen looked at me.

With her usual honest eyes.

"Just having you here is enough for me, Viola."

"Ellen…"

I felt like I’d been saved by those words. I knew my eyes were radiating a little light.

Suddenly, Ellen wrinkled her eyebrows and scrunched her face. As I wondered what she was doing, she sat up.

And then, as if falling over, she feebly hugged me. It really was lacking in energy, so I caught and firmly hugged her in return.

I felt her silky hair and her temperature. Her fingertips were very cold, but her chest still warm.

Ellen buried her face in my neck like a child clinging to her mother. And her whole body trembling, she whispered.

"I love you, Viola."

Those words vibrated not in my ear, but my bones, shaking my very core. The backs of my eyes warmed up, and instead of replying, I held her shoulder.

What an honest girl.

I love you too, Ellen.

But why couldn’t I voice it directly? Maybe I was embarrassed. Or maybe I was still concerned about father.

At any rate, while I couldn’t say it, it didn’t change that I did love her. So instead, I continued to tenderly hug her.

I smelled medicine, blood, and pus, but I wasn’t scared. Because it was all Ellen.

She accepted the short remainder of her life, but I couldn’t. What would I do?

She was crying, I felt. Just without showing it.

It was always this way.

She was always desperate to endure it. She’d never bother me with her wailing. She kept the tragedy going on in her little body all within that body.

…Oh, God.

I closed my eyes tight. I felt a tear come out and roll down my cheek.

If only I could take just a fraction of this girl’s pain.

If only I could share half that pain and walk with her.

The adults before Ellen who encouraged her death. What horrible people they must be.

Ellen’s parents. They might have already abandoned her entirely.

She tried to act like she had given up, but she must have loved them unbearably.

If only they just came to visit. Just a hug would save this girl’s heart. Why could they not even do that for her?

I felt an estrangement from the world of adults.

I wasn’t sure if it was strong enough to call hatred.

Perhaps it was closer to disappointment.

I felt like adults were on the other side of a high wall from us.

And only we knew the truth.

We trembled holding each other. We thought of each other and cried.

This space between the chair and bed was my and Ellen’s sacred place, never to be intruded upon.

Meeoh.

As if breaking up the moment, the black cat meowed low.

I hate…

women who don’t know they’re loved.

I hate…

women who won’t accept when they’re loved.

I…

On the way home that day.

I thought I left Ellen’s house with time to spare, but by the time I exited the forest, the sun had fully set.

Hoot, hoot, came the voice of distant birds.

I didn’t feel the night path, which I usually found eerie, was at all scary. I felt my heart had gotten stronger.

My chest hurt when I’d hugged her. Why? I felt like there’d been a hole poked in my chest.

When I got home, father was leaning against the door, looking scared.

Since I’d started going to Ellen’s house, there had been many days I’d come home late. It seemed to be reaching father’s limits.

When I saw his face, her words came to mind.

…The villagers are hiding me.

Welling up with bitterness, I didn’t look at his face.

"Hey! Viola!"

I ignored father and forced my way inside.

A silent dinner table.

The food father prepared had gone cold.

There was only the sound of clinking cutlery and munching bread.

Father was first to break the silence.

"You’ve been coming home late."

"…"

"Where are you going?"

"…"

I didn’t want to tell him about Ellen. I opened my heavy mouth and said the name of another girl I was friends with.

"XXXX’s place."

"XXXX said she didn’t know anything."

I promptly looked up.

"Did you ask?"

My face probably showed disdain. My father briefly faltered, then frowned as if saying “fine, then.”

I felt my face heat up.

It wasn’t because my lie had been seen through. It just embarrassed me imagining my father going to my friend’s house and asking.

He was so over-protective. That embarrassment gradually turned to irritation.

Father asked again.

"Where are you going?"

"To visit someone."

"Then who?"

My words were momentarily caught, and I hesitated whether I should say it. Finally, I spat it out.

"A girl named Ellen."

After saying it, I quickly looked for a change in father’s expression.

He lowered his eyebrows and thought.

"Ellen…? Is there such a girl?"

I was disappointed.

So he didn’t know?

But I soon braced myself.

Because maybe he was just pretending he didn’t know.

Maybe the villagers had forgotten even the sick child’s name in an attempt to hide her.

I was staring at him, so he gave me a weird look.

"What is it?"

It seemed somehow antagonistic, and I felt unpleasant.

Though that was only because I was looking at my father with suspicion.

"Father, are you hiding something?"

"Hiding what?"

"Everyone in the village is hiding something, aren’t they?"

Father put down his spoon and was silent. Had he thought of something? Or maybe he hadn’t, and was thinking.

The silence only lasted seconds, but it felt like eternity.

"What’re you talking about, Viola? Why would that be?"

Father finally said with a sigh.

He looked a little concerned.

So was I. About the fact I couldn’t believe father. I hated this feeling. I wanted to cry. But if I did, I couldn’t speak.

I thought back on Ellen, and endured it.

I asked at father and asked.

"Then why do you say not to go deep into the forest?"

"Well, because…"

Father seemed taken aback, lazily scratching his hairy chin.

"… …Because it’s dangerous. The roads aren’t clear, there are beasts… Of course it’s dangerous."

I felt something hidden in the gaps of his words.

As I stayed silent, father suddenly sharpened his eyes.

"Could it be you’re going deep into the forest? Is that where that girl’s house is?"

My shoulders stiffened. Because I thought I was the one blaming him. Suddenly being blamed myself, I was bewildered.

"Hey! Viola! …Is it true?"

Well, it was. But why was he mad? Surely, then, the villagers were hiding her. They didn’t say that warning out of concern for me, but to hide that sick child - were they afraid the children would figure that out?

Still staring at father, I shook my head.

"I’m not going there. Ellen’s house is…"

I looked down.

"Near the forest," I lied.

"I see…"

Father looked like he wanted to say something more. But he didn’t push me any further. Maybe he paid heed to me, or maybe it was too troublesome.

I wish he’d just tell me. But I was glad it didn’t turn into an argument. It seemed contradictory that I was satisfied with that.

Tick, tock, the clock quietly resounded.

Without saying anything to each other, a warm air flowed between us. Yet today, it was a little strained.

I didn’t feel like eating anymore and got out of my chair, turning to my room.

"…Hey, Viola!"

I hesitated briefly when he called me. But I didn’t turn around, went into my room, and locked the door.

I heard father sigh, now alone at the dinner table, through the door.

I stumbled to my bed and collapsed on it.

I thought back on what I’d said.

…It’s fine. Ellen’s house is near the forest.

I’d lied.

My chest ached with guilt.

The truth was, it was in the forest. And maybe it’d be more accurate to say it was deep in the forest.

But I didn’t say it.

I was scared of him knowing the truth.

I didn’t want to see father’s reaction to being told where her house really was. Maybe he had been kept from speaking about her. Maybe he would have desperately kept me from going there.

Ellen said she was going to die very soon. She told me she loved me. I was all she had. I didn’t want to stop going to see her, or to be stopped from going.

I thought my father was scary when he condemned me. Yet he was always so kind. I wanted to believe him. But he didn’t understand.

I held my pillow tight and pushed my nose into it.

I’m sorry, Ellen. I wasn’t brave enough to say it. I couldn’t confirm that you existed.

I couldn’t even say it to father. I don’t have the courage to condemn the villagers.

But that’s why - that’s why I’ll be with you to the end. Beside you, always being your friend. I won’t let you be lonely.

Determined to do so, the guilt of my lie seemed to fade.

I stopped grabbing my pillow so tightly, and fell asleep.

6

The next morning.

I woke up after father left for work.

I was accustomed to waking up alone in the morning, but I felt down, likely because of our fight yesterday.

Looking out the window, the sky was bright and cloudless. Just the opposite of how I felt. I leaned on the window sill, thinking I might get some cheer from the sun’s rays.

I thought about yesterday.

When father got home, I would have to talk to him again, properly this time.

…About Ellen.

I wouldn’t talk to all the villagers, but I would talk to father. Maybe we could even go visit her together.

Since father was such a good person, maybe he’d just been swept away by all the others talking about hiding away a sick child. He couldn’t stand up to them, and was just forced to accept it.

Yes, that must be it.

Like a leaf opening up as it bathed in the sun, I gradually regained my cheerfulness.

As I prepared to leave for Ellen’s house, I noticed a letter on the desk.

I picked it up.

It was a letter from father.

He must have written it last night, or else this morning.

I casually opened it up - then stopped. I folded it up and held it to my chest. Maybe there were things written there I didn’t want to know.

I heard my heart beat fast with unease.

I thought myself pathetic for thinking just bathing in the sun would grant me courage.

I’ll read it later, I thought, stuffing it in the pocket of my skirt and leaving the house.

In the forest.

I walked along with a basket, picking flowers.

They were to make her happy. I picked flowers with bright, strong colors, so even her worsening eyes could see them. Nice-smelling ones were good, too.

Her house was filled with nothing but roses, so I had no doubt even ordinary flowers would make her delight.

In no time, the basket was filled with brilliant flowers.

As I left the garden to head for Ellen’s house -

"Oww!"

My eye pricked with pain, and I covered it with my hand. It seemed a bug or something had flown at me.

Boy, how unlucky.

I walked the path, rubbing my eye.

After passing the garden of blue and red flowers, my feet stopped.

In the middle of the path surrounded by trees, the black cat sat looking at me.

He seemed like he was trying to block my way. Just as I was thinking how rarely I saw him outside -

"Yo."

The cat spoke in a boyish voice.

The wind blew between the black cat and I.

I found myself looking around to make sure there was no one there. Then I looked at the cat again.

Yo? Did this black cat just say “yo”?

As I said nothing out of utter surprise, the cat adorably tilted his head and spoke again.

"Thanks for being friends with Ellen."

The voice was unmistakably coming from the cat.

"But y’know, I’m a better friend to her than you."

Then the black cat stuck out his chest slightly with a chuckle.

I pulled myself together, and lifting up the arm on which the basket hung, I timidly muttered:

"Kitty… You can talk?"

"Yep," the cat flatly replied, swinging his long tail in a wide arc.

"Because she uses magic."

"Magic?"

"Yes, magic."

I was taken aback by the word reminiscent of fairy tales. But, oddly, it didn’t strike me as that unusual.

This cat could talk thanks to Ellen’s magic?

Thinking back on it, it was this cat who invited me to the house.

She wanted a friend. Perhaps the cat heard her plea and brought me to her.

The image of Ellen and the black cat talking in her room came to mind. It seemed more fantastical than it did eerie.

My face beamed pleasantly.

The black cat tilted his head sharply, perhaps not expecting that response.

"You aren’t surprised?"

I nodded.

"…What a strange kid."

"Hmph."

The black cat snorted with boredom. Then he spoke cheerfully.

"Why did you get along so well with Ellen?"

"Why…?"

Confused by the question, the next words came before I could prepare a reply.

“‘Cause you felt sorry for her?”

"Huh?’

The wind whistled between the black cat and I.

“‘Cause you could look down on sick Ellen, so weak and dirty. That’s why you got on with her, isn’t it? So you could pity her and be reassured of your own health? You liked feeling superior, like you were her only friend?”

A bad wind blew, rustling my skirt.

I opened my lips at once. But I couldn’t get the words out right away. My head heated up, as if the black cat’s words were invading my brain, and I panicked.

I spoke with resistance.

"…That’s not true. I mean, yes, I felt sorry for her at first. But before long, I really ended up being Ellen’s friend."

"Hmm."

Despite sitting lower than me, the black cat lightly raised his chin as if looking down on me.

"Were you taught you had to be kind to weaklings?"

"I just thought that myself."

"Hmph. Well, all right."

Then he was silent.

What was with this black cat?

I looked at him with wide eyes.

This cat wasn’t a kind friend. The picture I’d painted earlier, of him and Ellen talking pleasantly, vanished like an illusion.

I felt like the air in the forest had changed drastically.

I thought I’d ignore the cat and pass him by. But for some reason, I couldn’t move my legs.

"She’s going to die today."

"Huh?"

"Definitely, today."

The black cat seemed to observe me, then one of his ears flicked up.

"Oh? That’s odd. Did you just feel relieved?"

I was given a start.

"I did not!"

"Hmph."

The black cat fixed his gaze on me. Those gold eyes seemed to be peering into my heart.

I looked away. Had I really been relieved to hear she would die?

That couldn’t be.

"I said Ellen could use magic, right?"

The black cat looked at me and repeated, to confirm it.

"She has a spell to cure her sickness, you know. Actually, it’s a spell that can switch her body with yours."

My heart jumped.

Switch her body?

I didn’t understand.

"With magic, her body and your healthy body can change places. That way, she can be healthy."

His words quickened my pulse.

That.

That was…

I shook my head. That was impossible. That there could be such magic, that Ellen would use it. Because if she did -

…Wouldn’t I die?

"Don’t joke with me!", I squeaked out.

Just yesterday I had thought, if only I could take her place. But it wasn’t a will to condemn myself to death that made me think it.

Sweat formed on my forehead.

The black cat ignored me and continued.

"Right about now, she’s gouging out her eyes and cutting off her legs. Know why? So that after you switch bodies, you’ll be able to die in despair."

Disgusted by the black cat’s words, I furrowed my brow.

Would Ellen…? Why?

"She wouldn’t do that."

"Do what?", the cat said with a head tilt.

He looked at me with round eyes.

"Use a spell to switch bodies with you? Stick her fingers in her eyes and tear her eyeballs out? Hum to herself as she cut off her rotten legs? Want you to despair?"

I held my chest tight, wanting to throw up. Stop it, stop it. That’s disgusting. What am I supposed to say back?

The black cat seemed to greatly enjoy the sight. He closed his eyes and spoke elegantly.

"I can see it now. Ellen in her room, with bandages wrapped around her eyes. My eyes have gotten much worse, she says. With the pretty sheets covering them, you don’t notice she’s missing her legs. And there’s a strange smell in the room. It smells like rust. You know it’s the smell of blood. But because of that, you scrunch up your face and don’t run away. Because you’re Ellen’s friend. You can’t just leave her and run as she suffers. In fact, just the opposite. You came today so you could be beside her as she suffered."

I covered my mouth with my hands at once. I felt bile rising up to my throat.

The black cat’s words relentlessly stirred up my organs. They wormed their way into my brain, making horrible images.

How could he say it so undeniably?

He said it like he’d seen the scene.

I couldn’t even stand up. I put my hand on a nearby tree.

"What do you think, seeing Ellen on the verge of death like that? Do you feel sorry? Or disgusted?"

As if fighting against his waves of anxiety, I yelled, almost screamed at the black cat.

"I don’t think anything! Ellen is just Ellen!"

"Why are you yelling? At the end of your rope?"

I heard a giggling from somewhere. Who was it? Who could it be? It wasn’t the cat, was it?

I opened my eyes and looked at him.

I couldn’t stop crying. Strange. It was just a fly that hit my eye, but it hurt terribly.

The black cat casually continued.

"Ellen says, in that condition… That she wants to borrow your body for just a day."

I held my eye feeling a stabbing pain, like a stake was driven into it.

"It’s her final wish. Yes, she says, just one day."

The cat clearly pronounced the “one day” part.

I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t.

He went on.

I felt like there might have been the tiniest speck of pathos in his voice.

"Say, you loved Ellen, didn’t you? You really loved her? It wasn’t just pity?"

"You really weren’t scared of her sickness?"

"You believed her? Was sure she wouldn’t lie. Thought a girl younger than you wouldn’t trick you."

"Your father told you not to go deep into the forest. Didn’t know any girl named Ellen. Are you sure you should be believing Ellen, not him?"

"She lived honestly. You couldn’t be honest. That’s all there is to it."

"Thing is, you can’t go back now. You’ve already traded bodies."

"After all -"

"After all, aren’t you talking to me now?"

The black cat smiled.

Though surely, a cat couldn’t smile. The sides of his mouth lifted up, baring his sharp fangs and pink gums.

That moment.

My vision lurched, and as if freezing from the toes up, I lost the sensation in my legs.

A strong wind blew through the trees, and their rustling came down on me like sneering laughter.

Waves of scorn. And I was there in the middle of the whirlpool.

My eyes hurt. So, so much pain. I couldn’t stop the tears. I wasn’t even granted breath.

In my fading consciousness, I saw it.

Ellen lying in bed.

With bandages wrapped around both eyes.

I sat in the usual chair beside her, gently holding her little hands.

Her light purple lips moved faintly.

A heartbreaking voice that gripped my chest reached my ears shortly after.

"For just one day… I want to borrow your body."

Yes. When that happened…

I dropped the basket I was holding, and the flowers spilled out.

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