PAGE 2. Ink That Doesn’t Dissolve in Water

[To Asha, who I hope is having a good time

By the time this letter reaches you, the party will have already ended, right? You didn’t seem very excited when talking about the party. I can easily guess—or perhaps shouldn’t guess—what’s behind that, but you just listed the facts dryly.

I don’t have much information from you either.

But since you said you would explain in detail “if you end up going,” I’ll wait patiently and faithfully for your explanation.

What’s a party like on an island where half the year is summer?

Did children ruin the atmosphere by mingling with the adults? Did things get awkward when former lovers mixed in the crowd? Did sworn enemies who usually just sneer at each other disappear behind trees after getting fired up?

“Different from usual” also means being more tolerant of “unexpected situations.”

That’s why people discover unexpected sides of those they see regularly, or want to discover them. Especially in such a small place…… Since you only see the same people all the time, it’s not bad if a few act differently.

Though it might become gossip for some busybodies.

Hmm, that’s not so great.

How was the party? Did you suddenly feel unwell? Or did someone bother you? Anyone getting too familiar saying “You look different like this”?

Actually, the stable keeper at our mansion tried to seduce the blacksmith’s second child that way. It didn’t work at all, but he ended up dating the butcher’s youngest with the same line.

He proudly told me all about it without me even asking. Thanks to that, I had to listen to his exploits for thirty minutes when I went riding. Normally I would have brushed it off and fled, but that day he was particularly persistent.

His friends probably ran away after hearing too much. I was just unlucky and easy to corner.

These days Kasoche is busy receiving fabrics and fruits from outside. If we don’t stock up well when the weather is mild, we’ll be in trouble during the severe cold.

We get isolated for at least two months every year. That’s when the mountains surrounding the village are completely covered in snow. During that time, no one can come in or go out.

Exchange stops completely, and people survive those two months eating oil and preserved food they stored before. While maintaining their homes so snow doesn’t block the front door.

When that time comes, it gets so cold that your inner muscles ache, and you don’t even think about going out. Snow storms rage for days, turning everything pure white.

Very occasionally when the snow stops, we shovel out the knee-deep snow. Even that has its limits though. If you’re nimble enough, you can hop between the densely grown trees.

At least trees can shake off snow with the power of wind. I often move around the village that way too. Sometimes I run errands in place of my mother or father.

No matter how large your house is, you get restless after being cooped up for weeks. Though your situation is different. Hmm, it might sound funny to say “therefore,” but I can sympathize with your frustration to some extent.

Still, I think this winter will be less boring since I can exchange letters with you. Even the bitter cold won’t stop our miracle, right?

I hope your letter doesn’t get blown away by the north wind. If we’re still exchanging letters by then.

So, please don’t turn away from me with a one-line excuse someday. If that happens twice, I really couldn’t bear it. I’ve had enough experiences of being left out.

Tell me about yourself.

Did you decide to go to the party alone? Or with that girl Rosette? The boy who carried your packages home? By the way, who is this person who suddenly appeared and “escorted” you? Did you know each other before?

I have many questions today, but please understand generously. When you live in such a small village, it’s natural to get excited about new topics of conversation.

Fortunately, I don’t share your stories with others, which is quite good, right? Without this precondition, we would have had no reason to start corresponding.

I hope your party was enjoyable. If not, I’ll comfort you anytime. With all my “sincerity.”

I’ll wait for your reply.

From Carol, who forgot his philosophy homework out of curiosity

P.S. I like blue too. For exactly the same reason as you.

P.P.S. The first piece you asked about doesn’t have a name. If you like it, why don’t you name it yourself?

P.P.P.S. People our age are indeed at the height of growth. My oldest brother also grew like sorghum at my age. In a few years, I’ll be much taller than my brothers. I’m willing to bet on it. But wait, does that mean the person who “escorted” you is around our age?]

[I saw Rosette and Bash kissing]

[The two people I know somewhat well kissed. In front of me, perhaps. Maybe they kissed because they saw me. So.

After making eye contact with Rosette, Rosette kissed Bash. Bash, the boy I mentioned before, who carried my packages. For reference, Bash is two years older than us.]

[Why did she look at me while pressing her lips against someone else?]

[To Carol

The party was enjoyable. You seem to have an excellent sense of calculating dates. I’ve just returned home from the bustling party. I wanted to stay longer, but I’m actually about to collapse, but for the sake of the person who gave you homework, I’ll explain step by step.

I’m not very sleepy anyway.

It’s a good night for letter writing in many ways.

Yes, it’s past midnight as I hold this pen. It’s a much later bedtime than usual, but I haven’t lain in bed yet.

I’m writing this letter with paper, pen, ink, and a round paperweight placed on my bedroom windowsill. The windowsill is quite wide, so it’s comfortable to rest my arms while writing. It also gets the best outside breeze.

Though summer’s peak is still far off, summer is summer after all.

Fortunately, my body felt quite good today. Statistically, it was on the better side. I tossed and turned a bit the night before but didn’t dream of falling off cliffs or being sucked into monster jaws, and when I opened my eyes, I felt good enough.

The air not yet warmed by sunlight was cool, and I ate two pieces of bread baked at dawn. You might not know this, but such days are very rare for me.

And that day happened to be when the whole village gathered for revelry!

Grandfather regretted not being able to get me a new dress, but I didn’t mind much. I had several dresses Aila left behind. They were barely worn, so they were as good as new.

Moreover, grandfather promised to buy new clothes on the next holiday, so I wasn’t disappointed.

Aila’s summer dresses tend to be short, but when I wore them, they came down to my ankles. The sleeves fit reasonably well, so with a belt to adjust the fit, it looked quite presentable.

The pale honey color didn’t match my glasses, but since I couldn’t go without them, I decided to be satisfied with that.

Since the party was essentially my first, I planned to go with grandfather, but Rosette came by.

More precisely, Rosette and her partner Bash. Bash is the boy who “escorted” me to the bookstore and then home before. He’s two years older than us and was one of the boys who wove flowers as gifts for Aila.

Rosette stepped into the entrance with a grin as if we had made an appointment. Grandfather welcomed Rosette very warmly. She used to visit often when Aila was here. His gaze toward Bash was disapproving, but that wasn’t strange.

Grandfather used to consider boys who hung around Aila like lovesick puppies to be pathetic. But he never interfered with my sister’s dates or chased them away with threats.

Besides, Bash was a boy praised by all the adults in the neighborhood. Grandfather soon softened his expression and patted his shoulder.

As soon as she confirmed I was going to the party, Rosette clapped her hands and rejoiced as if it were her own affair. I was grateful, but it was a bit strange. Though we’re the same age, we weren’t particularly close.