Frenzy
Exact date unknown—just a quiet, peaceful winter day, remembered only for the snowfall. Watching four-year-old Aris play, our family was spending a harmonious time together in the room.
Remi held Aris in her small arms. It looked uncomfortable for both, but they just gazed at each other and smiled happily. Mother knitting in the rocking chair. Father chatting cheerfully with me at the round table. A rare day with the whole family gathered.
"Anna, what do you think is the most essential ability for a king?"
Suddenly, Father asked me. A vague question. To confirm I understood, I asked back.
"You're asking about the virtues a king must possess, something like that?"
"Well, you could see it that way. Ability, virtue."
I racked my brain to grasp the intent. Tap, tap—I drummed the table. But it offered no answers; no words were written on it. I knew there was no magical mirror from fairy tales in this world to reply if asked.
Any hints on Father's face? He just watched me with a gentle smile.
What could it be?
Diplomacy, connections, social skills, or encompassing intellect—many candidates. But none passed my lips. Each had reasons making them valid answers, yet none fully right.
I stayed silent, fidgeting helplessly. Was I afraid to be wrong? Or reluctant to share my crude thoughts with Father?
Soon, silence filled the room. Not cold tension, but warm quietude, accompanied by the crackle of firewood in the hearth. Not rebuke, but parents waiting patiently for their young child's response.
And breaking that silence—was no one else but Remi.
"Me! Me! I know!"
"Oh, yes, our Remi. Do you know the answer?"
"Yeah!"
Remi stretched one arm high, shouting she knew. Aris in her arms mimicked, raising her arm too. Mother laughed helplessly at the sight.
"Strength!"
"Oh ho...?"
"Yeah! With super strong strength, bam! Beat 'em away!"
Strength. Personal might. I'd considered it but dismissed it as unhelpful for ruling a nation. Making weird sound effects, Remi waved excitedly, as if she'd nailed it. Aris copied her again.
Don't copy bad things... Aris... no-no. No-no? Yeah, right. No-no. Don't follow Remi. Remi is... no-no? Yeah.
I ignored Remi glaring at me. I just prayed to the heavens that Aris wouldn't grow up causing as much mischief as Remi.
Father, hearing it all, said nothing—just smiled. Not the answer? One candidate down. But I still knew nothing. Felt like twenty questions with only one guess. No way to get it right. Father's enigmatic expression revealed zilch.
Finally, unable to bear it, I picked what seemed closest.
"Intellect, I think."
"Hmm, not a bad answer."
Intellect. Vague too, covering vast ground. Anxious, I watched Father, but he spread his hands wide: no real answer, just wanted to know what you think and why.
No right answer. My tension felt foolish.
"Ah! Remi, you got it right too."
"Heehee~ See, I'm amazing! Right, Aris!"
"Yeah!"
Remi lowered her head for Aris's pat. Sis did good~ So cool~ Yeah yeah! I tried hard! Heehee~ Watching always felt odd. From Aris's birth, Remi never left her side—eating together, bathing together, doting like her own child.
Growing up beside such a wild Remi, Aris oddly matured. Remi four years older, yet Aris seemed the caretaker. An unsolved mystery in my heart.
"So Aris, what do you think?"
"Hm~?"
Suddenly, Father asked Aris in Remi's arms. She just tilted her head, staring. Mother chided him.
"Dear, how would Aris know that?"
"Haha... just asking."
"Ugh......"
Aris clutched her head with both hands, groaning in thought. So cute, I idly wondered if the king's greatest ability was birthing a child like her. My precious little sister, warming my heart. My pride.
"—Kindness!"
"...?!"
Aris raised both hands high. Father widened his eyes in surprise. Mother stopped knitting to stare. Remi... well, hugged and laughed as usual.
"Why do you think that?"
Father asked for the reason. Perhaps imagination, but his voice seemed slightly lower. A reason he hadn't sought from Remi or me. The smile he'd given us, as if guessing without words—gone now. Serious, he gazed at Aris, truly wanting to know.
In this unfamiliar mood, I silently watched them. Aris, the subject—
"—'Cause Daddy's not strong and not smart!"
"Cough, hack—wha, Aris...?"
She spat it cheerfully. Father, king of a nation, looked flustered unbecomingly.
"Mommy married to Daddy must be so pitiful... Mommy's too nice..."
"Good job, my girl! Love you!"
"Love you too! Mommy!"
Mother clenched fists, cheering Aris. Muttering she should've rejected his flowers; a corpse minus face and personality—why'd she like him? Promised Aris a cookie later. Remi rejoiced like it was hers—which it mostly was.
Mother... lots bottled up, huh...
Everyone laughed joyfully—except Father. He gazed sadly at Mother. His patented "deer-like sad eyes," Mother said. Made her want to tease more.
"—But Daddy's definitely a su~per great king!"
Aris continued undaunted, confident unlike my hesitation.
"Daddy's not strong, not smart, always nagged by Mommy..."
"C-can you stop...? Hurts more than before? Daddy hurts?"
"Hush, dear. Before the kids see you hit."
Sage ruler. Before us, Father lived under Mother's thumb, but objectively, Marco Akaia, my father, was undeniably exemplary—worthy of "present king." Some might disagree, sure.
Beloved by many subjects, the king I aspired to. Why hadn't I seen the answer right beside me?
"Fighting's for soldiers. Ruling's for lords and nobles. Baking for bakers, building for carpenters!"
".......Ari...s?"
I stared at Aris. A four-year-old's obvious list. Yet I couldn't shake the sense profound wisdom and knowledge infused it—beyond my judgment.
"—So what should the king do?"
Realizing, I'd asked Aris. My tone? Desperate? Or—memory fuzzy. Ugly flailing from ten-year-old Anna Akaia, six years Aris's senior, birthday next month.
"If the king delegates ruling, politics, war, diplomacy—all to others, what should he do?"
"...Sis Anna—?"
Remi sensed my oddness, calling me. But it didn't register. I just wanted to know.
Aris met my eyes, thin smile. Then—
"Watch beside them to see if they're doing well."
Like teaching me, soft voice explaining.
"If they err, scold them and share the punishment."
"Sorry I couldn't lead you."
"Punishment's hard alone, but not together?"
"Sharing responsibility."
"That's what I think—kindness is."
"......"
Coming to, Father gone to work, Remi and Aris out playing. Mother too. Alone, I blankly stared at the ceiling.
Was Aris's answer Father's desire? He hadn't said. But I'd accepted it.
Aris was more fit to be queen than I—
"My head... hurts..."
A giant needle stabbed my brain. Conflicting emotions swirled, clashing inside: self-loathing, depression, regret—useless feelings dragging my feet. Jealousy, envy, greed—ugly ones shoving my back.
Where did they lead? Hell? Ah, yes, probably.
Outside, harsh wind howled; Aris knocked endlessly, showing no sign of stopping.
Continuously. —Knock knock.
Continuously. —Knock knock.
—Knockknockknockknockknockknockknockknockknockknockknockknockknockknockknockknockknockknock.
"—Sis Anna... play with me..!"
"......Annoying..."
"I'm sorry...!"
"Sorry..."
"So—"
"Again...!"
—Bam.
"—Shut up!!!!"
I slammed the desk. Hand reddened instantly. Pain faded to burning heat. As my hand struck, outside knocking stopped.
Silent, hollow room. Finally quiet—but guards burst in hurriedly.
Why does everyone bother me...! What did I do wrong!!
"Princess... what's wrong this late at night..."
"Nothing... leave."
"Princess...."
"—Get out!! Ignoring me!?"
Guard stared seconds, then left wordlessly. Cold night air slipped through the closing door, brushing my skin.
".....My head hurts."
Stagger. Clutching throbbing head, I gripped desk, rose, headed to bed.
Beyond the door guard opened—no one stood. Not Aris, nor ever-following Remi, no one.
Of course. —Dawn now, no one wanders.
"Hurts.... help me...."
Felt myself changing into something unknown. Hurts. Suffocating. Hard. Someone... help.
"...Aris—"
Aris....