A Belated Confession
Rustle. Rustle. There had clearly been three trowels, yet Ariel simply stood apart, blankly watching the other two dig through the soil. She had never intended to help anyway, so with a wry smile she continued working in silence. Of course, her outfit was hardly suited for kneeling in the dirt either.
“I should have put everything in a box from the start.”
“You’re telling me.”
When Edgar let out a chuckle, Ariel nodded vigorously and scurried closer. Just in case the two of them missed something, she meant to lend an extra pair of eyes.
Scrape… clink.
“Oh, found it.”
“It’s there?”
After digging a while longer, the tip of a trowel caught on something. Edgar carefully brushed the soil away, revealing two round spheres. Even though they contained nothing particularly valuable, both felt an odd mix of emotions welling up.
“Are these the items you mentioned, my lady?”
“Yes. We were going to open them next year, but the timing just got moved up a little.”
Edgar glanced at Ariel as he spoke. She pretended not to hear and stepped forward to pick up one of the spheres.
“Not a single scratch on it.”
“Right. Pretty durable, I guess.”
“Do you think there’s some kind of magical treatment on the outside?”
Eight years had passed, yet the spheres were only lightly dusted with soil—otherwise perfectly intact. For a moment the three of them forgot their original purpose and began discussing the spheres’ functions. Only later did they remember what they were actually here to do.
“What do you want to do? Should we read each other’s letters?”
“Can’t we both read them? I’m curious.”
“That’s fine too.”
Edgar had already expected that Ariel’s personality would never allow her to read only one side. He nodded without fuss and handed her the red sphere. The one he held was black. They had each placed their letters inside spheres colored like the other’s hair.
“We’re supposed to pour mana into them, right?”
“Yeah. I think that’s what Mother said.”
“Alright. Let’s open them at the same time.”
At Ariel’s nod, the two moved closer together, closed their eyes, and channeled mana into the spheres. Just like eight years ago, tiny particles of light enveloped them. The spheres lost their shape and vanished into the air along with the light, leaving only neatly folded sheets of paper resting in their hands.
“Do you remember what you wrote?”
“Of course not. Do you?”
“Actually, neither do I.”
Ariel gave an uncharacteristically bright smile and began carefully unfolding her letter. After all, the past eight years had been far too hectic for either of them to dwell on these buried messages. It wasn’t that they didn’t value them—it was simply that they’d had no time. Besides, there had been no need to memorize the contents. If anything, remembering them would have only dulled the anticipation of this moment.
Each holding the letter written by their past self, the two began to read. Shuri, not wanting to intrude, kept her head slightly turned while trying to sneak glances at the text.
“Pfft.”
“What’s wrong, young master?”
While Ariel read with a serious expression, Edgar suddenly burst into laughter. Shuri leaned forward, puzzled.
“It’s just… what I wrote eight years ago is so ridiculous. Want to see?”
“Is that all right?”
“Why not? It’s not like I sent it to someone else. It was meant for me.”
If he had written a love letter to Ariel, he might have felt embarrassed, but back then Edgar hadn’t even been aware of his own feelings. Showing it to Shuri wasn’t difficult at all. Once he finished reading, he held the paper out. Shuri quickly took it and began reading.
Meanwhile, Ariel remained absorbed in her own letter, not saying a word to either of them.
“Pffhehe…”
“Funny, right?”
“It is. It feels like something an old man would write.”
“I’ve been told that a lot.”
Edgar clapped playfully at her accurate assessment and took the letter back. The contents were truly mundane—asking how his future self was doing, whether his body was healthy, whether Ariel was still childish. Nothing profound. Just ordinary well-wishes. Shuri found that very trait even more “old man” than anything else. Most ten-year-olds writing to their future selves would fill the page with dreams and hopes—whether they had confessed to their crush, whether they had achieved their childhood ambitions. But Edgar’s letter contained only the kind of casual remarks one might send to a slightly distant friend. Rather than lacking expectations for the future, it reflected a detached outlook of simply going with the flow. Shuri decided to call it “old man energy.”
“That guy’s been like that since he was little.”
Ariel, who had been listening while reading her own letter, finally cut in with a blunt remark.
“Well, you two were always together, so you’d know best.”
“Yeah. He was always busy teasing me, but whenever it really mattered he’d go quiet and calm… such a weird personality.”
“Is that something you say to your boyfriend?”
“It’s the truth, though?”
Becoming lovers hadn’t stopped their usual bickering. They had simply become a little more honest about their feelings. Shuri was certain that once they were alone, the atmosphere between them would turn sweet and affectionate—just like it always did with her and Ronan.
“Here, Ariel. Let’s swap and read each other’s.”
Edgar held out his letter first. But Ariel’s reaction was strangely lukewarm. She avoided his gaze and tried to hide the paper behind her back.
“Uh, yeah… we should, but…”
“……?”
“Um… can’t we just read our own…?”
Her unusually passive attitude made Edgar, who had known her for eighteen years, instantly sense trouble. A very strong scent of teasing, in fact. When he grinned like a mischievous child, Ariel flinched and began inching backward.
“You’re the one who suggested we swap.”
“W-well, that’s true, but… now that I think about it, there’s no need to tarnish each other’s memories, right?”
“Tarnish? That’s a bit much.”
“That’s not what I meant…!”
When Edgar grumbled, clearly offended, Ariel frantically waved her hands in denial. She had dug her own grave. She should have kept quiet until after they finished reading. Now there was no taking it back—she had no choice but to hand over the letter.
“Ugh… b-but there’s a condition.”
“You’re putting conditions on reading one letter…?”
“I-if you don’t like it, I won’t show you!”
“Fine. What’s the condition?”
Edgar was dying to know what could possibly be written that warranted such a fuss. He agreed anyway—conditions or not, he just wanted to read it. Ariel covered the lower half of her face with the letter and mumbled in a voice barely above a whisper.
“Don’t laugh after reading it…”
“…That’s the condition?”
“Yes.”
It was far more anticlimactic than Edgar had expected. At the same time, it implied the contents were embarrassing enough to provoke laughter. When Shuri asked if she could read it too, Ariel firmly shook her head. Leaving a sulky Shuri behind, Edgar quietly accepted the letter. As he unfolded it and began reading, Ariel swallowed hard, visibly tense.
“Pfft…”
“D-don’t laugh!”
“I-I didn’t… khp!”
He had barely made it halfway through when a strange wheezing sound escaped him. Ariel flared up instantly. Edgar protested that he hadn’t actually laughed, but the next blow finished him off.
“G-give it back! You idiot! I shouldn’t have shown you!”
Ariel snatched the letter away. Still half-laughing, Edgar reached out and begged for it back.
“Sorry. Since I’ve already read this much, just let me finish.”
“…I knew this would happen.”
Realizing it was pointless to take it back now, Ariel glared at him and reluctantly handed the letter over. Edgar thanked her and continued reading the remaining lines. A wide smile spread across his face again—not because it was funny, but because it was adorable. It was a letter from the Ariel of eight years ago to the Ariel of today. A message of encouragement. And in a way, a massive bomb.
Dear adult me, I’m sorry. I guess I still lack courage. I wanted to tell Ed about the Star Lord’s story, but I couldn’t yesterday either. So please! The you nine years from now must tell Ed the Star Lord’s story! And tell Ed! That I love him very much! Ed is an idiot so he might not believe it, but in that case tell him a hundred, a thousand times! Okay? Please take care of it!
— Ariel from nine years ago —
“Ariel, did you hear that? She wants you to say it a hundred, a thousand times.”
“D-don’t tease me! I don’t even remember making that promise!”
“Wow, that’s harsh. It’s a promise you made with your past self eight years ago, and you’re just going to forget it?”
“I must have been weird back then! There’s no other explanation for saying something so embarrassing…!”
Ariel’s face turned bright red as she shook her head so hard it looked like it might snap off. When even Shuri, who had peeked at the letter, burst out laughing, Ariel shot to her feet as if she couldn’t take it anymore.
“Give it here right now so I can tear it up!”
“Why tear up something precious? I’ll keep it safe for you.”
“Hand it over!”
In the end, because of her past self, Ariel had once again been thoroughly teased by Edgar today. And somehow, even her own past self hadn’t taken her side. All she could do was fume in helpless indignation at this cruel reality.