To You, Nine Years Later (1)
Edgar jolted awake to the sound of his name being shouted. He had been savoring a rare, delicious afternoon nap, but the sudden commotion pulled him back to reality. Even without opening his eyes, he could guess the culprit. It wasn’t particularly unpleasant—just a little too loud for his liking. Who in the world woke someone up by pounding on their stomach? Even CPR wasn’t that rough.
“Edgar, wake up! Let’s go play!”
“Mmm… Where are we going?” His voice came out hoarse, and thirst clawed at his throat. As he glanced around for something to drink, Ariel, wearing a bright smile, produced a glass of water she had apparently been hiding. Without a word, he gave her a thumbs-up and downed it in one go.
This much bribery is worth playing along. Her timing was impeccable. Ten years together clearly hadn’t been wasted.
Edgar sat up and began folding his bedding. The maids would have done it for him, but the habit was too deeply ingrained to break. Besides, there was no reason to change it.
If I can do it myself, why make someone else do it? That was his principle.
“Why do you always fold your own blankets? The servants would take care of it.”
“You shouldn’t take things like that for granted. Sometimes you ought to do things with your own hands.”
“I don’t know. You say such difficult things sometimes.”
Well, it might be a bit advanced for a ten-year-old. Especially one who had been treated like a precious jewel her entire life. From Ariel’s perspective, Edgar was the odd one. He didn’t feel the need to convince her, so he simply finished tidying up.
He placed the book he had been reading before bed on the table and began gathering the scattered items around the room… when Ariel spoke up.
“Leave it. I’ll do it.”
“Hmph, if we’re late because of this, we’ll have less time to play. That’s the only reason I’m helping.”
“Hmm.”
He hadn’t intended to make her work, so he felt a twinge of guilt. Still, since she offered, he didn’t stop her. Thanks to her, the cleanup went twice as fast. Her small hands moved with surprising efficiency.
She’s quite capable. Of course she was—she was the all-talented young lady of the house. It would have been stranger to imagine her fumbling with something so simple.
Once they finished, Edgar looked around the now-tidy room with satisfaction. This was how a room should look. He wasn’t obsessive about cleanliness, but order was far more pleasant than chaos.
“Oh, right. Until what age did you sleep with your mom?”
“Me? I’m not sure.”
The question came out of nowhere, but it wasn’t surprising. Edgar searched his memory. He was fairly certain he had slept alone ever since he learned to speak properly. It was a little hazy, but he probably started around three or four.
“How old were you when you started sleeping alone?”
“I was five!”
That’s early. Judging by how proudly she said it, she must have been ahead of her peers. The young lady puffed out her chest, clearly waiting for praise. Perhaps she had brought up the topic hoping he would ask in return. What a calculating little thing.
A faint snort escaped him as he watched her smug expression. He felt tempted to tease her, but she had brought him water and helped clean, so he decided to let it slide.
“That’s impressive. Five is pretty early, isn’t it?”
“Right? I’m not scared of ghosts at all!”
“I suppose not.”
The image of Ariel being afraid of ghosts was almost impossible to picture. If anything, she was more likely to fear bugs—though even then, she handled spiders without much trouble.
“So, have you decided what we’re playing?”
“Yeah. I wouldn’t have come looking for you otherwise.”
“…Put your hand on your conscience and say that again.”
Where had the person gone who used to barge in demanding he come up with games? Edgar narrowed his eyes at her. Ariel whistled and looked away, clearly feeling guilty. It was a little annoying, but he would let it pass today.
“So, what are we doing?”
“Umm… Actually, it’s not really playing. There’s something I want to do with you.”
“Something you want to do?”
Was that different from playing? Well, if they were cleaning together, that wouldn’t exactly count as play. Of course, this airheaded young lady was unlikely to have such a sensible idea. Still, it was the first time she had spoken so vaguely instead of directly naming a game, so his curiosity was piqued. He hadn’t yet asked her to teach him magic either—maybe she was about to bring it up first. A small spark of hope flickered in his chest.
“Just follow me! I’ve already prepared everything.”
“All right.”
Ariel strode out of the room and headed straight for the guest wing—where Helene was likely staying. Surely she wasn’t planning to rope Helene into playing house. A sudden wave of dread washed over Edgar, and cold sweat prickled his skin.
Knock, knock.
— Who is it?
“Mom, it’s me!”
While Edgar stood frozen in thought, Ariel knocked and bounced on her toes, waiting for Helene to answer. She couldn’t stay still for even a moment, hopping in place. Whatever this “something she wanted to do” was, it clearly had her in high spirits.
“Ariel, what brings you here? And Edgar too.”
“Mom! I’m going to make what you told me about yesterday with Edgar. So teach us how!”
“What I told you about…? Ah, that.”
Helene clapped her hands lightly and nodded. She disappeared back into the room for a moment, then emerged wearing a light shawl over her clothes and carrying a small bag. She had brought supplies after all.
“Where were you planning to go? Have you chosen a spot?”
“Yeah. I thought the garden.”
“That sounds perfect.”
The two of them spoke as if sharing a secret, leaving Edgar completely in the dark. Were they deliberately keeping him in suspense to tease him? Helene had a mischievous streak similar to her daughter’s, so the suspicion felt justified.
“Lady Helene, what exactly are we going to do?”
“Hehe, it seems Ariel hasn’t told you.”
Helene smiled playfully at her daughter, as if silently asking, Should I tell him? Ariel shook her head frantically.
“Mom, we have to keep it a secret until we get there!”
“All right. But if you hide it too much, Edgar might not like it.”
Ariel flinched and glanced at him nervously. Edgar’s expression remained as indifferent as ever. She had wanted to surprise him, but if he lost interest before she could reveal it, everything would be ruined. What should she do?
While she agonized, Edgar reached out and patted her shoulder.
“It’s fine. You can tell me when we get there. Let’s just go.”
Just like how, when reading a book, it was better to flip ahead and see the ending rather than worry about it, reality was the same. There was no malice behind it, and her excited face was rather cute. He decided to play along.
“…Hee, so you were looking forward to it too?”
“What are you talking about? Just hurry up.”
Ariel suddenly clung to him, nearly knocking him off balance. No matter how happy she was, she rarely got this clingy. It meant his reaction had pleased her.
“Thank you for looking after our daughter so well, Edgar.”
“Not at all. I’ve received a lot from Ariel too.”
“Did you hear that, Mom?! I’ve done so much for Edgar too!”
Would you be quiet, you little rascal? Edgar considered giving her a light smack on the head for butting in at the wrong moment, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it in front of her mother. He quickly hid his clenched fist, feeling disappointed. Ariel, oblivious, kept smiling the entire time.
She walked ahead with light steps, leading them out of the mansion. When they ran into Shephy along the way, she asked if Helene needed an escort, but Helene gently declined and took Edgar’s hand instead, following her daughter.
“Edgar, aren’t you cold?”
“No, I’m fine. I don’t get cold easily.”
Honestly, he was a little warm. His clothes were thicker than necessary. Helene smiled, as if she had found a kindred spirit. Aside from the shawl, her own outfit was quite light—proof that she, too, was resistant to the cold.
“We’re similar in that regard. My husband and I are both strong against the cold, but our daughter takes after someone else and gets cold easily. You know that, don’t you?”
“I know it well.”
Even though Ariel lived in a colder region than Edgar, she never seemed to grow accustomed to it and often shivered. That was exactly why Edgar always carried an extra coat he rarely wore himself—just in case.
Ariel, who had gone ahead, darted beneath a tall quince tree. The Bilhark family garden had few large trees, but this quince tree had stood there for a long time. Edgar had once taken shelter under it when he caught a cold, so he felt a certain fondness for it.
“Mom, how about here?”
“Yes, it’s perfect. That’s my daughter.”
“Hee.”
Helene knelt carefully on the grass beneath the tree. The weeds made the ground soft, and she was relieved that her clothes wouldn’t get too dirty. She opened the bag she had brought and pulled out a notebook, two pens, and a small, unidentified spherical object.
“Lady Helene, what is this…?”
“You may have heard of it before. We’re each going to write a message to our future selves on this paper and bury it in the ground.”
“Ah.”
A time capsule. Edgar’s eyes widened as he finally understood. So this world had the same tradition. He had seen similar customs a few times, but it still felt novel.
“Edgar! What are you going to write?”
“It’s a secret. It wouldn’t be fun if I told you.”
“Heh, I guess so?”
Edgar accepted a sheet of paper and a pen with a playful smile, adding in his mind, Wait nine years. As he pondered what to write, he glanced at Ariel’s cheeks and thought they looked oddly flushed.