Jealousy
Lately, two things had been weighing on my mind more than anything else. The first was the lunchbox. Following Caramel’s recipe from the other day, I had somehow managed to make one that passed muster. Eve’s reaction was delighted, and when I heard that her friends at school always ranked it as a top priority when sharing side dishes, my chest puffed out with pride for a full week.
The second was her hairstyle. That part still felt like walking a tightrope, and it was the one task that left me sweating the most. Eve’s hair was impossibly soft and silky, like stroking the finest silk ever woven. Caramel had once declared it a blessing from the goddess of beauty herself. Personally, I thought Eve outranked any goddess, but on the general point I had to agree. There was an almost magical quality to it—once you touched those strands, you couldn’t let go. Anyone who ran their fingers through Eve’s hair became forever spoiled by that warm, cloud-like texture. I imagined this must have been exactly how Athena felt when she envied the three sisters’ golden locks.
The truly unfortunate part was that the exclusive stylist for those heavenly tresses was none other than me. In both my previous life and this one, I had successfully avoided any relationship with combs or hair dryers. Now I found myself responsible for grooming a sensitive young girl, and the pressure was no small thing. The old dryer I hadn’t touched in five years had promptly died on me. The one I used now was a new purchase I’d made when Eve first came into my life.
“If I just… do it like this… Ah! I’m sorry, Eve. Did that pull? Did it hurt?”
“It’s all right. It didn’t hurt at all.”
Whenever I did her hair, my lap became Eve’s reserved seat. Even humming a little tune while she waited for me filled me with guilt.
“There… is that better?”
The style I had finally wrestled into existence was…
“…It actually looks pretty decent today, doesn’t it?”
To be completely honest, calling it a “style” felt generous, but at least the finished product managed to look presentable. The fact that it had taken me several months to reach even this level was a secret I would take to my grave.
I checked the clock. Time was uncomfortably tight. We wouldn’t be late, but even the possibility of putting Eve in that position counted as a serious miscalculation in my book.
“Eve, did you forget anything? School supplies all ready?”
“Nothing!”
“Lunchbox?”
Eve spun in a little circle and gave her bag a proud pat. The solid, heavier weight that came from something other than books or pencils was unmistakable. Good. Lunch was properly packed.
“Well done. By the way, Nina seems to be running late today. Would you like me to walk you to school?”
Instead of answering, Eve trotted over to the front door, opened it halfway, and peeked outside. For one terrible second I wondered if she was trying to run away because she didn’t want to walk with me. Just as my heart began to crack, a familiar face belonging to a girl about Eve’s age poked through the gap.
“…Nina’s here.”
“Hello.”
My wounded pride hastily stitched itself back together. Ever since Eve transferred into the academy, Nina had occasionally walked with her. I wished the girl would just ring the doorbell so I could open the door properly, but from a child’s perspective I supposed having an adult hovering nearby felt awkward. Still, I couldn’t very well leave her standing outside indefinitely.
“Tell her to come inside and wait next time. She can have some cocoa while she’s at it.”
“…He says that, Nina.”
Eve relayed my words with the smooth efficiency of flowing water. Nina answered with a polite little bow.
“We’re off now~”
“All right. Wait outside when you’re finished. I’ll come pick you up.”
“Okay.”
The door clicked shut. For a while I could hear the patter of their footsteps echoing down the hallway. The silence that followed felt strangely heavy, almost unreal. An empty living room. An empty dining table. The air that still carried traces of Eve’s presence suddenly felt thick enough to choke on.
Ever since Eve started school, moments like this—being left alone—sometimes brought an unnamed weariness crashing down on me. Until just last year our mornings had always been shared… Had it really taken less than a year for me to grow so unaccustomed to the quiet?
“…It’s quiet,” I muttered to myself, the words tasting oddly hollow.
*
“Oh? You’re in early today, sir.”
Caramel’s cheerful face appeared at the sound of the bell. The fact that I had fled to the pharmacy because the emptiness of the house felt too foreign was embarrassingly obvious. Admitting it outright, however, was more than I could manage.
“I suppose I am,” I answered vaguely.
“Is something the matter?”
“Not really. Though I’ll need to step out for a bit this afternoon.”
“Ah, it’s orphanage day, isn’t it?”
I had an appointment to keep. The destination was the church-run orphanage. I had been visiting them for quite a long time now—regularly checking on the children’s health, bringing tasty food, that sort of thing. It didn’t exactly feel like simple volunteer work.
“It looks like I won’t be able to take Eve with me this time. Could you watch the shop for a little while?”
“You don’t even have to ask. Any chance to spend time alone with Eve is always welcome.”
“Thanks. I’ll be back before closing.”
“…But why aren’t you taking Eve along?” Caramel asked, almost as an afterthought. She sounded genuinely curious.
I gave her a bitter smile and let the words trail off. “She’s… more mature than other children her age. You never know what might happen.”
Apparently that was enough of an answer, because Caramel quickly changed the subject.
“Oh, that’s right! You had a phone call earlier, sir.”
“A call? Customer?”
“No… it didn’t sound like a customer. The person just said they were an old colleague of yours. They asked you to call back when you returned, but they hung up so quickly I couldn’t even get a number…”
“……I think I know who it was.”
I let out a sigh.
“Are you close? The voice sounded like a woman’s.”
“Close… I suppose?”
“Asking me won’t help…”
“We just contact each other when something comes up. She’s the one who gave me information about Eve last time.”
She was also someone who had an almost frightening knack for gathering information and had helped me more times than I could count. She might grumble and snap at me until my ears rang, but in the end she always came through.
“May I ask who it is?”
“The Red Tower Master.”
“Ah, the Tower Master of the magic tower that sealed the red dragon in the lava zone? One of the sages…?”
Caramel’s casual tone faltered. A beat later she stared at me with a completely blank expression.
“……Why on earth would someone like that be calling you?”
“I told you. We used to work together.”
“What kind of work?!”
“Just… work. Nothing more.”
Caramel grew more and more agitated, demanding details. There wasn’t much I could say. Since I had been summoned, I supposed I should return the call. Suddenly the day felt a lot busier. Truthfully, I had never been fond of being busy.
*
To Eve, school was a place where everything felt new. The desk her arms could just reach across, the slightly uncomfortable chair, even the lovingly packed lunchbox—each one was precious to her. She adored the time she spent playing with her friends. If she had to rank it, it came right after the moments when Simon brushed her hair.
That day, class had ended earlier than scheduled. During the break she had gone for a light walk with Lucia, chatting idly. That was all it had been.
“And so, and so, in the seventh chapter of the etiquette book it describes table manners from a lost tradition, is what it is-wa yo. Have you perchance read it?”
“No, I haven’t gotten that far yet.”
“Until a hundred years ago, adding cheese to a dish was considered an insult to the cook, is what it is-wa yo. They believed it would mask the flavor of the food itself.”
“Really? That seems strange. I like cheese quite a lot…”
“For your information, that particular custom was completely abolished by the previous emperor himself.”
“It’s gone entirely?”
“Indeed! The previous emperor loved cheese to such an obsessive degree that he drank it in place of wine with every meal, is what it is-wa yo.”
“Hmm… but Lucia, didn’t His Majesty have to follow table manners too?”
“Precisely. Which is why the court nobles apparently criticized his behavior, is what it is-wa yo.”
“……And then?”
“Unable to bear it any longer, the emperor had every fountain in the palace converted into cheese fountains and forced his ministers to eat cheese until they vomited! Is that not a truly elegant and aristocratic anecdote!”
I had read about the cheese-loving emperor in our textbook not long ago. Lucia seemed especially fond of the story; for the past several days she had been utterly absorbed in retelling it. Eve didn’t mind hearing the same tale multiple times, so she listened attentively. Because of that, she hadn’t been paying much attention to her surroundings.
That said, she hadn’t been careless enough to bump into anyone. At least, not on purpose.
The first thing she felt was clear malice.
Thud.
A rather rough, blunt impact. Someone had knocked into her shoulder hard enough that Eve lost her balance and fell.
“Oh dear, are you all right?”
Lucia’s eyes narrowed into sharp slits at once. The other girl hadn’t apologized. Looking closer, it was Flora.
Lucia called out to her in a cold voice. “You there. Commoner.”
“……Me?”
“Yes. You.”
“What?”
“Are you simply going to walk away?”
“Why shouldn’t I?”
Flora let out a small, mocking laugh. The two of them usually chatted easily in class, but right now the air between them crackled with tension.
“Look this way.”
“I am looking.”
“Eve has fallen.”
“Oh, so she has.”
“Even if both parties were careless, Eve is the one on the ground. An apology would be proper manners, would it not? Please be more careful in the future, is what it is-wa yo.”
“…………Hmph.”
Flora whipped her head away. That was when Lucia’s temper truly snapped.
“Why the tongue click?! I demand a correction, is what it is-wa yo!”
“Wa yo, wa yo, so noisy.”
“Ugh! If you have a complaint, speak it plainly, is what it is-wa yo! Criticizing someone’s manner of speech is hardly elegant!”
“Elegant, she says. You wouldn’t understand with that flower garden you call a brain.”
Flora sneered at Lucia, then turned her gaze toward Eve as if that had been her goal from the beginning.
“Eve, right? I heard a rumor recently. You were adopted by the pharmacy teacher, weren’t you?”
“…….”
Eve’s throat closed up. The word “adopted” wasn’t entirely accurate. But there was something far more urgent she needed to ask.
“…You know Simon?”
“Of course. I knew him before you did. He’s been coming to our orphanage ever since I was little.”
At the word orphanage, Eve could only tilt her head in confusion. Orphanage…? She already knew Flora came from one. But she had no idea what that had to do with Simon. The gesture seemed to scrape against the other girl’s nerves even more.
“I don’t get it. Why is it only you………”
Thick, sticky jealousy. Eve could feel it instinctively. The girl twisted her lips and added, “Must be nice. Just because you have a slightly pretty face, that kind teacher took you in and is raising you.”
Eve froze solid. At first the words didn’t even make sense. Then, little by little, they began to flash inside her whitening mind like warning lights. It felt as if she had been struck by a hammer she never saw coming.
What happened after that… honestly, she couldn’t remember clearly. She recalled Lucia flying into a rage and charging at Flora. Both girls grabbing each other’s hair and yanking hard. Chris, who had rushed over at the commotion, trying to separate them only to catch an elbow in the nose and start bleeding. Nina running to fetch the teacher. The teacher calming everyone down. And the voice of a child filled with irritation and envy—every sharp word aimed directly at Eve.
……And after that… after that… the homeroom teacher must have contacted the families.
Lucia’s older brother arrived first. Then an elderly woman in nun’s robes appeared, saying she was the director of the orphanage. Chris and Nina were sent home first at the teacher’s instruction. And finally, the one person Eve had never wanted to show this side of herself to—
“Eve!”
In the distance, Simon was running toward her as fast as he could.