First Snow and a Donut
"Are you all right?"
Dorothy's hands had come all the way to my face before I noticed, and now they cupped my cheeks.
When had she gotten this close? I was certain I had been inside the bakery, and yet in the space of a blink she was here, as if she had known all along that I was following.
"Eugene."
She stroked my cheek again. Her hand had gone cold. She had been standing bare-handed in this chill, just as my own body had frozen through. Even so, for reasons I could not name, I found that touch warm.
It was only a fleeting impression, of course.
"Nn. Cold."
The small reaction slipped out on reflex. Dorothy, who somehow caught it, gave a faint flinch of her arms and slowly drew her hands away. Her face remained as blank as ever. Was I only imagining the bewilderment in her brows and at the corner of her mouth?
Unfortunately, I never had the chance to find out whether I was right.
"Who are you? Why is an officer wrapped around some imperial brat!"
The middle-aged man raised his voice again. That he could shout at all, even after seeing the dark green officer's dress uniform and its epaulettes, was astonishing in itself.
"State your rank and name."
No. He seemed to be a soldier as well.
Dorothy took a single step out in front of me and parted her lips.
"Sir. Forgive me, but who might you be?"
"What?"
"This is the first time we have met. I am under no obligation to answer so to someone who is neither my superior nor my subordinate. If you are expecting the courtesy due a former officer, I must respectfully decline."
That characteristic, uninflected tone pressed down on him. The moment Dorothy assumed a grave bearing, he began to look visibly discomfited.
A correction was in order. The man was neither an active soldier nor a retired one. A merchant come to do business with the military, most likely, or some relative of a young officer. The scheme by which he had meant to prop up his pride, even by bluffing, had been seen through at a stroke. His face twisted hard. It only made matters worse that the very people who had been denouncing me with such relish a moment ago were now regarding him with cold eyes.
Around then, Dorothy turned her head back toward me.
"Come. Let's go home."
"...Yes."
One way and another, things had gotten tangled. I had not accomplished what I set out to do, and on top of a quarrel I had never wanted, I had been caught besides. Even so, Dorothy's gaze was somehow gentler than before. Content with that much, I followed her.
That was when it happened.
"Where do you think you're going, you barbarian blood!"
The man's roar closed in at a rush. Heavy footsteps came after me, and a hand shot out. With an officer looking on he did not seem inclined to strike, but he clearly meant to seize me by the head and do something with it. It was of a piece with bringing a cane down on someone's skull: a method meant to inflict nothing but humiliation.
Dorothy set herself against the man suddenly bearing down on us, empty-handed. A ready stance from military close combat. The solidity of it said plainly that she had not pinned a second lieutenant's epaulettes to her shoulders for show. One middle-aged man in the grip of rage, she could have put down with ease.
But this was a problem I had brought on myself. I could not borrow Dorothy's hands.
The open hand drew near.
"You filthy imperial!"
The next instant there was a slick scrape, as if he had stepped onto ice.
"Wh—whoa?!"
The man shot into the air. Had he been a bird with wings, he might have landed lightly. Unfortunately, he was a man with a considerable belly.
He hit the middle of the avenue with a resounding crash and sprawled there spread-eagle.
"Ghhh..."
Just as planned.
A silent cast. I had brought the spell to life by imagination alone, without a spellbook to aid me, and toppled him with it. His center of gravity had sat so high that even a small force sent him over at once. That belly of his, no doubt.
Thick snow was falling from the sky. Someone slipping on a snowy road was an ordinary thing. And so the man was left looking, beyond all argument, like a fellow who had huffed and puffed on his own and then fallen in an ugly heap.
"Hah. Figures."
The wife and three children who had been watching the disgrace quietly knit their brows.
Meanwhile, my eyes met Dorothy's. She knew I could use magic. She seemed to be asking, Was that you? Once she had more or less taken in the situation, the keen edge of her gaze slowly eased. I smiled thinly and spoke.
"Benjamin will be waiting."
Dorothy nodded. We set off side by side toward the two-story house—the snug little house on Oslo Street.
The nape of my neck was cold.
The moment the door opened, warm air rushed out to meet us.
"...!"
It was different again from the warmth of bedding. Not the warmth that comes of merely keeping the cold out, but a sensation like standing before a campfire. What on earth was this?
"We're back."
"There you are. I lit the hearth."
Benjamin sat on the living-room sofa, waving a hand in lazy greeting.
And there really was a campfire in front of the sofa.
...No. A fireplace occupied the middle of the living-room wall, and flames were wavering inside its hearth. For someone who had learned what a hearth was only from a dictionary, it was a rather wondrous sight. So this was how warm it could get. The fire wasn't going to spread, was it? While that bout of curiosity ran its course, the warmth seeping in drove the cold away.
Benjamin, for his part, showed no sign of surprise at seeing me return with Dorothy. Had I been in the palm of his hand all along, no matter how I flew or crawled?
"I'm home. I'll head upstairs."
I offered a light greeting and set my foot on the stairs leading up. A voice came flying at once, intent on stopping me.
"Hm? No. Come over here and rest by the fire."
It was Benjamin.
"Sorry?"
"Heh. Cold out there, wasn't it?"
The old man smiled, playful.
"Didn't I tell you to finish your studies early this afternoon and come downstairs? Let's make today a day off."
It was not only Benjamin. I had one foot on the stair and was scratching my head when Dorothy gave my back a soft push, toward the living room. I nearly asked what she was doing, then remembered we had not yet settled what I ought to call her. Another nudge. A tap.
"W-wait a moment."
In the end I dropped helplessly onto the sofa. Once I was actually sitting there, the feeling was not bad at all. Sparks leapt among the wavering flames. Seated on that comfortable sofa and watching them, I felt an inexplicable calm fold itself around me.
"I've seen how hard you've been studying. You really did seem set on mastering it in a month."
"Well. I suppose so."
"Working hard deserves praise. You're doing well. But."
Benjamin glanced my way and lifted one corner of his mouth.
"Rest matters every bit as much as working hard."
"..."
"It's the first day of the new year. On New Year's party day, at least, you rest."
An unfamiliar word had come out of Benjamin's mouth.
"New Year's party?"
"Huh. What. You don't know?"
"Is it a Federation custom?"
When I asked, Benjamin made a face that was difficult to describe.
"Well... something like that. Call it a party if you like, but there's nothing special about it. Resting and eating. That's all."
True to his word, we ate supper as we always did. Set aside the warmth from the hearth, and the mood was thoroughly ordinary. Perhaps that was why, when Benjamin called me back to the living room once more, I could not hide my surprise.
A small table stood before the sofa. On it lay a neatly folded shirt, and over the shirt a stylish necktie, rolled into a coil. Fine cloth, and a fine tie. Even I, with no eye for such things, could tell. That said everything. I drew a useless breath.
"What is this?"
"A gift. The heart of a New Year's party is the giving of presents."
"...I didn't prepare anything."
"Hahaha! You're probably the only one shivering in front of the hearth like a puppy caught in the rain."
Benjamin laughed long and hard.
"There are times in life when you receive, that's all. Don't embarrass the giver by making such a fuss."
All at once I felt awkward. Words tumbled out of my mouth.
"Ah. Shall I try it on?"
"Well said. Go change and come back."
Oh no. I had bitten down on it too readily.
In the end I carried the shirt and tie off to the storeroom. By the time I remembered that I was someone who struggled even to do up a button, it was already too late.
"Damn it."
I managed the shirt, barely. The tie, no matter how I struggled, ended up looking like a boa constrictor wrapped around my throat. Only after Dorothy, unable to watch any longer, tied it for me herself did I finally look presentable. The gazes of Benjamin and Dorothy stung for no good reason.
"Oh. It suits you."
Benjamin said so without a trace of teasing, and Dorothy nodded as well. Wanting nothing more than to crawl into a mouse hole, I sat back down on the sofa.
"That's not the end of it."
Benjamin then produced another set of clothes from behind the sofa. This time it was winter wear for a woman. It seemed to be a gift for Dorothy, though for that the airy delicacy of it was rather excessive.
"Who goes out in an officer's uniform? Wear something pretty now and then."
"No."
What followed is best passed over with the observation that Dorothy's face filled, brimful, with revulsion.
Once Benjamin had been refused, Dorothy stepped forward. She rummaged through her handbag a few times, then returned to the living room with two scarves of different colors. I had thought she bought nothing at the clothing shop. Apparently not. One was black and one was gray, each embroidered with a clean white pattern. Dorothy held the black scarf out to me.
"Put it on."
I wound it around my neck with clumsy hands. It was far easier to wear than the shirt or the tie, and a cozy warmth settled in at once. At some point Dorothy had put on the gray scarf as well. There was little talk, and yet the mood had turned warm. Dorothy offered me a small smile with her eyes.
Benjamin, meanwhile, spoke up.
"Dorothy. What about mine?"
"There isn't one for Mr. Oslo."
"Come now... there really isn't?"
With that, his tone dropped a register. He was genuinely hurt. As an aside, Benjamin's low spirits only improved later, when he discovered that the cane he had left in his study had been replaced with a new one.
In any case, I had ended up on the receiving end of a great heap of gifts. I was perched awkwardly at the end of the sofa when Dorothy, still wearing her scarf, began busily preparing something in the kitchen. A little while later she came back with something set on a plate. A round piece of bread, with a hole through the middle and a color that was somehow hard to name.
"What is this?"
"A donut."
Dorothy began to speak, slowly.
"It's a sweet bread. I was worried you might not like sweet things, but it seemed as if you do."
Ah. Surely not.
"That... is this about this morning?"
"Mm."
The strength went out of me all at once. So that stare, the one that had seemed to bore straight through me, had only been her checking whether I would eat the sweet marmalade. If I had known the truth of the matter would be this absurd, I never would have gone outside.
"Haha..."
But that was not the only reason the laugh came out so drained. What was all of this? Warmth, and gifts. Kindness, and consideration. Was it not just like family?
Family is a special title. It cannot be taken in hand so simply. It is precious precisely because it cannot easily be won back. Then why were Benjamin and Dorothy going this far? I could not let it pass with a vague nod. I set my thoughts in order and put the question to them both, and Benjamin and Dorothy looked at each other. They were not as startled as I had expected.
"Hmm. Where do I even begin."
Benjamin, who had been murmuring to himself, abruptly turned his gaze on Dorothy.
"May I tell him?"
"Yes."
Tell me what? Before I could even begin to wonder, Benjamin gave me the answer.
"My wife, Susan, couldn't have children when she was young, on account of an illness. Now we're both too old."
In other words—
"Dorothy is my adopted daughter. I have five daughters under my roof, and every one of them is a child born of the heart."
"...!"
"Ask me to unfold all their stories, and you'd get a book for each of them. I was that sort of fellow myself from the start, so that says it all."
All at once I thought of Benjamin's palm. A life like a long penance.
"I think family isn't anything so special. Live under one roof and jostle against each other, and that's family, isn't it? There was a time I loaded the word with meaning it didn't need. Looking back, it was all futile."
In Benjamin's eyes, the fire in the hearth wavered slowly.
"Whoops. I nearly rambled on with a dull story. I'll leave the grumbling there."
He smiled gently.
"Today, have a taste of that donut and rest well. It's a gift Dorothy prepared for you. I'm sure it's good."
"..."
I picked up the fork. The thin film of sugar over the donut split with a bright little crack. I speared the piece I had cut and popped it into my mouth.
"Whoa."
I learned for the first time that bread could be fluffy. The texture seemed ready to melt, and at the same time the sugar on the donut gave off a rapturous sweetness. Soft, and sweet. That was all. A single forkful was enough to warm my whole body through with a gentle heat.
Certainly, family might not be anything so special after all.
Time passed quickly, and before I knew it a month had gone by since I came to stay in the two-story house. My Frauvian had improved by leaps and bounds, but I failed, regrettably, to surprise Benjamin. A bright laugh and a single Well done were the end of it. I did not mind. If anything, that may have been for the best.
In any case, from that day forward I began to receive Benjamin's teaching in earnest.
And then—
Snow is rare in an imperial winter. Rain may fall in plenty, but snow does not come easily. Even graupel is uncommon, and snow lying deep enough to reach the ankle is treated as a blizzard.
And so it would take three years before I once again found flakes of snow drifting beyond the window.