The Dream That Was Stolen
I closed the door after exchanging the usual pleasantries with the delivery driver who had raced through the dark streets late at night to bring me chicken. The moment the door shut, the unmistakable aroma of freshly fried chicken rose from the bag, that mouthwatering scent mixed with warm steam, and I broke into a wide, silly grin.
“Whoa, I need to eat this right away.”
I hurried my steps toward the computer desk where I had already set up a small folding table. The moment I saw the chicken drumstick wrapped in that beautiful golden batter, I swallowed hard. In my mind, I could already taste it all at once—the crisp fried coating, the thin skin underneath, the tender, juicy meat bursting with flavor. Since I was going to eat anyway, I decided to do it properly. I pulled out the pickled radish and seasoned salt from the bag and transferred them into small dishes for easy access.
“And finally… yes, this is it.”
For the perfect finishing touch, I took out a can of beer I had chilled in the fridge. I grinned as I ran my fingers over the icy cold surface. Freshly fried chicken paired with ice-cold beer. It was a great combination on its own, but as late-night comfort food, it was absolutely perfect. I plopped down in my chair with a satisfied wiggle and started the movie I had been planning to watch tonight.
As the grand music tickled my ears through the headset, I reached for the chicken—then changed my mind. Maybe I should wet my throat first. I picked up the can of beer.
“Alright then…”
The satisfying hiss of the can opening made me smile. I brought it to my lips for that first refreshing sip—
—when a sharp pain suddenly exploded across my right cheek, bright enough to make me see stars.
“…Huh?”
I stared blankly at the completely changed scenery around me and let out a stupid sound. It took only a second to realize everything had been a dream. I squeezed my eyes shut in pure despair.
“If I could’ve at least taken one bite of that drumstick…”
I genuinely regretted not getting even a single taste despite having the chicken right in front of me. Muttering to myself, I pushed my body upright, determined to find out who had ruined my sweet dream and peaceful sleep. I looked around.
It didn’t take long to spot the culprit. My eyes met those of the spirit, who had grown quite a bit since we first met. Remembering how she and I had agreed to sleep in separate rooms and how she would often wake me up like this, I reached out and grabbed her.
“It was you again this time, wasn’t it?”
[Ah, aah!]
“Why do you keep waking me up every time I’m having a good dream!”
I had decided that today I was definitely getting an answer. The spirit flailed her arms and legs, complaining about the pain as I held her cheek. I pressed her for the reason—exactly what kind of grudge she held that made her interrupt my dreams every single time.
But the spirit, who had only just started speaking properly, didn’t give me the answer I wanted. Instead, she only wailed about the pain before vanishing without a sound. She reappeared a short distance away, puffing out her cheeks in clear dissatisfaction.
“If anyone should be dissatisfied here, it’s me, you know?”
I grumbled that it wasn’t just any dream—it had been a dream featuring perfectly fresh fried chicken and ice-cold canned beer, and I hadn’t gotten to eat any of it. After complaining for a while, I realized how ridiculous I sounded and let out a long sigh.
Nothing was going to get better by staying like this. I forced my thoughts back in order and turned to check the time.
“It’s too awkward to go back to sleep now.”
After confirming the time on the wall clock, I decided to simply treat this as waking up early. I started my day a little sooner than usual.
I got out of bed, tied my long hair back into a loose ponytail with a hair tie, and stepped into the bathroom attached to my room. When I turned on the light, a girl’s face—clearly feminine now—stared back at me from the clean mirror.
“…Haa.”
Seeing myself grow closer to womanhood with each passing day stirred up complicated feelings. I let them all out in a sigh, then washed them away with cold water. After that, I put on simple clothes that I could wear without help and left the room.
A maid who happened to be passing by nearby recognized me and quickly approached.
“Lady René.”
“Ah, good morning.”
The maid looked startled when she called my name. When I smiled and greeted her, she gave me a bitter smile and asked why I was up so early.
“Hmm, I just woke up earlier than usual today.”
As I answered, my gaze naturally drifted down to the spirit at my feet. I casually brushed off a bit of fluff from the hem of my skirt while giving the excuse I had come up with for my own peace of mind.
The maid, relieved that nothing serious had happened, expressed concern and told me to let her know immediately if my bed was uncomfortable.
“Oh come on, don’t worry too much.”
I waved my hand, saying I had grown up quite a bit now. She nodded, but the way she looked at me still carried the same gaze one would give a very young child. Since she had been watching me since I first learned to walk, I knew that look wouldn’t change easily. I let it slide and headed to the dining room with her.
I sipped on fragrant tea while waiting for the rest of the family.
“Good morning, Father.”
Father arrived at the dining room not long after. He widened his eyes when I bowed my head in greeting. When he asked why I was up so early, I gave the same answer—that I had simply woken up sooner than usual—and we drank tea together.
“By the way, summer is almost here… Would it be too much to ask about going to the villa for vacation this year as well?”
“Hmm. I’m thinking of making it happen somehow this year… but work doesn’t always go the way we want it to.”
It had already been two years since Arlan and Arin entered the academy and since René and I began using separate rooms. We hadn’t been able to visit the villa for various reasons during that time. I really wanted to go this year, so when Father gave a troubled look and avoided giving a definite answer, I held my tongue.
“Ah, Mother. Good morning.”
“Yes. Did you sleep well, René?”
The heavy silence that had settled after the vacation talk lifted when Mother entered the dining room. While the three of us chatted about this and that, René finally appeared. When I waved at her, she puffed out her cheeks and asked why I had come down first today.
“I woke up earlier than usual.”
“Just how early did you wake up?!”
“About an hour.”
“Well, if it’s only an hour, there’s nothing that can be done about it.”
René immediately accepted the explanation after hearing I had woken up a whole hour early. We all laughed together and greeted the morning.
After a simple breakfast, we had wild strawberries for dessert—ones the orchard farmers had begun growing experimentally last year with surprisingly good results. While the others weren’t looking, I secretly passed a few strawberries to the spirit. She popped each one into her mouth the moment I gave them to her, smiling happily. I smiled along with her, but then the memory of this morning’s incident came back and I gently pinched her cheek before letting go.
After that, we spent the morning studying etiquette and manners, and the afternoon studying writing and basic education. Having spent yet another perfectly ordinary day, my sister and I didn’t have the energy to run around, so we took a leisurely stroll through the garden.
“No matter how I look at it, that’s definitely a spirit…”
When we approached the pond again today, I muttered to myself as I watched a fish peek out briefly before disappearing. I didn’t dwell on it and simply moved on.
Days continued to pass in much the same way. Then, shortly after summer began, Arlan returned to the mansion without any prior notice for the first time in three years.
“Arlan! What is this? Coming back without even sending word!”
Arlan had returned so suddenly that Father ran out to greet him even though it was still working hours. Arlan gave an awkward smile. In the three years since we last saw him, he had grown into a truly handsome young man. He waved at René, who blinked at him in surprise, and at me as I nodded in approval of how well he had grown.
“It’s been a while. Have you both been well?”
“Yes. You didn’t send a single letter the entire time, making Mother worry, but I’m glad to see you look perfectly fine.”
“Ugh… René. That really hurts to hear.”
When I pointed out that he had only sent one single letter after entering the academy, Arlan gave a bitter laugh and made excuses about how busy he had been. Mother, who had come out after hearing the news last, received his greeting.
“I’m sorry. I was too busy with work to contact you.”
“No, as long as you’re healthy, that’s all that matters.”
Mother smiled warmly, saying that even a disappointing child was still her child, and that his good health was enough. Then she asked why he had suddenly returned. Since we were all curious about the same thing, Father and my sister and I nodded, urging him to explain. After hesitating for a moment, Arlan reached into his coat and pulled out a letter sealed with the academy headmaster’s stamp.
“What is this?”
“Well… it would be better if you read it yourself rather than hearing it from me.”
Father looked puzzled by Arlan’s evasive attitude, even though he clearly knew the contents. He quickly took the letter and read it. His eyes blinked once, then widened as he stared at his son’s awkward face.
“Arlan! You’ve been held back at the academy! What on earth is this supposed to mean!”
“That is… I may have caused a bit of an accident.”
Father looked absolutely stunned to learn his son had returned after being held back. Mother pressed a hand to her forehead. Meanwhile, René, upon hearing that Arlan was the first in our family to ever be held back, cheerfully offered him her congratulations.
“That’s not something to congratulate someone for.”
“Oh, it’s not?”
“No. Just stay quiet.”
I taught René that there were some accomplishments in this world that didn’t deserve celebration, no matter how historic they were. While our parents gave Arlan a thorough scolding, I spoke with him slowly and learned that he had decided to come home to spend the year at the mansion since he had already been held back. I gave him a cold, unimpressed stare.
“Ahem, René. Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
When I pressed him, asking if he was talking about the look one gave to the eldest son who had spent years without contact and then returned after being held back, he let out a groan and fell silent. Still, I welcomed him back properly. Arlan gave a bitter smile and thanked me.