Episode 5. He Was (3)
He was five years old.
If you asked what had happened in the year since then, there was nothing earthshaking to report. And yet, for the first time in my life, I learned what a parent's love really was.
“Liam, shall we go to the market with Mother? I heard today happens to be a five-day market. Is there anything you want to eat?”
My mother always looked at me with eyes full of affection, calling my new name in that gentle voice of hers and tossing out little things we might enjoy together. And today, it seemed, was a day she wanted to go to the market.
“Yes, let's go.”
“Not yes, and you don't have to be so formal, my little son.”
Honestly.
When I frowned and fell silent, Mother grinned and poked at my side.
“Come on, say it properly! What are you supposed to say to Mother?”
“...Yeah. I want to go.”
I let out a long sigh and forced out the words she wanted, one by one.
Please, for the love of—
“And?”
“...Mom.”
“That's right! Let's go, my boy!”
If she was going to shower me with love, I wished she'd refrain from forcing me to say embarrassing things like that. I was thirty years old in my last life, and only now, at this age, was I finally learning how to cling to the existence called Mother.
It was a little embarrassing.
When I was about three, the city I used to see from the mansion's study was Harden. And I didn't actually get to go there until after Mother and Father returned. Until then, even if I said I wanted to visit, Sion had shut me down with a firm refusal.
So, I suppose the first time I ever went into the city wasn't really by my own will, but at my mother's suggestion. Just like today, she had smiled at me so warmly and asked if I wanted to go to Harden.
Back then, too, I'd been a little moved by the thought that she was taking me out because I was bored. I hadn't even realized it was somewhere she herself wanted to go.
While I was thinking that, Mother had already gone over to the wet nurse and was pressuring her into helping.
“Sion, hurry up and get ready. Our boy's practically dying to see the market.”
“Lady Eleanor, anyone can see that you are the one who's excited.”
“What are you talking about? I'm just going along for my son.”
“If that's the case, I'll just take Young Master myself. You can rest here at the mansion.”
“Ah, um. I don't think that's quite right...”
Sion, staring at Mother with utter disbelief, and Mother, awkwardly turning her head away under that look, were like a scene from a sitcom.
The summer heat after July was brutal, which meant it was the kind of season children naturally hated. The air was thick and sticky, and with a body young enough to get heat rash, I had every reason to loathe it.
And in that weather, with my face all scrunched up, I was being dragged through the market by my mother's hand.
“Oh, Liam. Doesn't this look absolutely delicious?”
“...I think I'd get a stomachache if I ate it.”
“No, what are you saying? Once you've been out on the battlefield, you'll understand how precious things like this are. Ma'am, three of those skewers, please!”
Mother puckered her lips at my words, then snatched up the suspicious-looking skewers and practically shoved them into my hand.
It really did smell like the sort of greasy sauce you could only find on a market street. It was probably delicious. And it was absolutely certain I'd be making frequent trips to the bathroom when I got home.
Still, that wasn't particularly important.
I just wished she wouldn't keep telling a child who was barely four or five years old that he had to go to the battlefield.
Maybe it was a joke to Mother, but even a single word like that made my little five-year-old heart pound.
Thinking that, I bit into the skewer.
The sweet sauce burst across my tongue, and I focused on the greasy little snack I'd been eating for the first time in a while.
“See? Our boy really likes things like this, even though he always acts like he doesn't.”
“...”
It wasn't that I disliked it. It was just the kind of food that made me remember old times.
When I was an orphan, there had been days when I couldn't even afford a proper meal. Back then, I used to wander the streets, pull out wrinkled thousand-won bills, and buy the greasiest food I could find, always making sure I got the biggest portion for my money.
Even after I became an adult and landed a decent job, I'd kept doing it out of habit, though I only managed to break that habit after I met you.
Watching me eat the skewer, the wet nurse let out a sigh and said, in case it needed saying, that when we came to the market, Sion had dropped the pretense and spoken to Mother casually so she could keep her identity hidden.
“Eleanor, stop giving the Young Master junk like that. He should be eating only the good stuff while he grows up, not—ugh. Damn it!”
“If it tastes good, it's good for you. So you should eat some too, Sion!”
“Ugh, no... I'll eat it, so don't shove it in my face, ugh!”
Of course, my mother wasn't the kind of person whose common sense could be reasoned with, and Sion's words were even less likely to get through to her.
The summer market was hot and damp. People said regions like Europe might be hot, but at least they weren't humid, so why on earth was a woman who looked Western living in a place with weather like Korea?
“Son, are you feeling hot?”
“...Sion. I think Mother's eyesight's gotten really bad. Please call a physician later.”
Even though I was already sweating buckets, she still asked that question, which irritated me, so I spoke to Sion and tried to give Mother a hint.
But—
“Oh, my son. You're already worrying about Mother? How sweet.”
“Young Master, that sort of indirect jab won't work on Lady Eleanor.”
“...Yeah. It's astonishing.”
“Huh? What do you mean by that, both of you? You're not worried about me?”
Just as Sion said, it was a useless gesture with Mother. Even after watching her for a whole year, I still couldn't quite admit that there were simply some people this kind of trick wouldn't work on.
The sky was red.
We had been wandering the market since midday, yet even as the sun began to sink into the evening, we were still there. Mother stared up at the sunset for a moment, then stretched as if refreshed.
“Mmm... ahh. That was fun. Our son had fun too, ri—oh. Um, didn't he...?”
“...”
And I didn't answer.
To be precise, I didn't even have the strength left to answer.
So it was Sion who answered for me.
“Eleanor, does this look okay to you?”
“Hmm. Maybe I overdid it because I was happy to be out with my son after so long...?”
That was right. I was half-sprawled in Sion's arms.
The summer heat had gotten to me, yes, but more than that, my five-year-old body simply couldn't keep up with my mother's stamina.
My mother had been the victorious knight who once swept across battlefields, and Sion had been one of her fellow knights back then. I was just a frail little child whose mind kept growing older and older.
“...Sion. Get Mother to a physician as soon as possible, and you can put me down now.”
“Yes, Young Master. Lady Eleanor seems to have some sort of mental issue, so I think we should have her seen by a physician soon.”
Sion set me down as she answered, and Mother, looking at the two of us, chewed on her lip before mumbling under her breath.
“...Aren't the two of you disturbingly in sync? I'm your mother, you know.”
And even then—
“Well, you still haven't grown up, Mom.”
“Well, you, Eleanor, still haven't grown up.”
We answered at the same time.
“See? Am I supposed to feel left out when you two do that?”
Mother stuck out her lip and turned away.
“Mom, I'll buy you flowers, so don't be upset.”
“Eleanor, we'll buy you flowers, so stop pouting.”
Sion and I said it together again.
“Nooo! Look at this, I'm the only one being bullied!”
Mother's indignation only grew.
So before leaving the market, the three of us headed to a flower shop.
It was partly to soothe Mother's wounded feelings, but in the first place, she had been the one to say we should end by buying flowers. According to Sion, Mother liked flowers that bloomed in summer.
“Welcome! Please look around, and if you find a flower you like, just let me know~”
The florist greeted us with a bright, fresh smile and the sort of polished speech you'd expect from someone in customer service. I looked over the flowers displayed on the terrace.
There were pale pink morning glories, trumpet-shaped blooms with their petals flared open, yellow sunflowers, and purple cornflowers, but the one that filled my eyes completely was the scarlet hibiscus.
“Our boy must really like the hibiscus. Then let's buy a bundle of those too. If you ask to have them planted in the garden, the maids will probably do it for you.”
Seeing me stare only at the hibiscus, Mother patted my head as if I were adorable.
But my mind was already overflowing with thoughts of you.
It was the flower you loved most.
More than the roses everyone else called beautiful, you had liked the hibiscus with its red, almost burning petals. After I learned it was your favorite, I always gave you bouquets full of scarlet hibiscus, and every time you took them from me, you would smile softly.
“But could these petals be brewed into tea too? Hibiscus tea really is such a pretty color.”
Sometimes you'd stare down at the bouquet and say something as offbeat as that.
Even on that day.
Even on the day I died, there had been a single hibiscus I bought sitting on the table in the café where we'd been sitting.
Did you still love this flower?
Even now, five years later, when you saw it, did you think of me?
Or maybe, by now, someone else had started giving you flowers.
Five years was long enough to forget a person, I thought. Not everyone, of course, but usually that was how it went.
Still, I was not an ordinary person.
Even after five years, I was still finding traces of you everywhere.
You.
I missed you terribly.
And whenever I thought like that, I always cried in silence.
The tears that wouldn't stop slid down my cheeks. If I had been alone in the study, I would have been crying for a long time by then.
Only, this was a rather difficult place to lose myself in such feelings.
My mother was here.
More specifically, our cheerful, oblivious, hopelessly immature mother was standing beside me.
“Oh, look at our sentimental boy! You've been acting all stoic this whole time, and now you're crying at flowers? Oh, my son, you're so cute~”
“Eleanor, when your son cries, you don't tease him. You hug him...”
Thanks to the two of them carrying on like a sitcom, my tears dried up in no time.
Once I had calmed down, I carried home an armful of hibiscus and handed it over to the maids.
And from that year on, every year a corner of the mansion's garden bloomed red with hibiscus petals.
It was a beautiful sight.
A sight you would have loved.
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