To take care of me in Aila’s place…… The only thing Aila and I have in common is our hair color.

Rosette, seemingly oblivious to my complicated feelings and as if she had no ulterior motives, smiled and began fiddling with my hair.

No, not simply fiddling, but making a fuss with pins and ribbons. She instantly took position behind me and tied my hair this way, braided it that way, chattering about which style looked better.

Why on earth?

Questions filled me to the brim, but as I said earlier, I was in a very good mood. It was the first time this year I felt so well, and it felt like the thorns that always protruded from my body had subsided.

The thorns that pressed not only against others but also into my own skin.

So I went along with Rosette, responding that this style was pretty and that style was pretty too. Actually, it wasn’t so much me going along with her as her showing kindness to me.

Rosette ran her long fingers through my hair this way and that, then gathered my hair high up and rolled it into a round shape.

Because my hair is thick and stiff, she had to use three leather ties and five thin pins.

Bash complimented it as very cute, and grandfather cried a little. I joked asking why he was crying over something like this, which made him cry more.

Whenever grandfather cries in front of me, I feel like nothing good will happen, but these days it seems okay.

After all, both Aila’s wedding and my participation in the party are happy occasions. Though they might not be for you.

Anyway, Rosette cut a rose she must have received from Bash and inserted it into my hair—specifically, into that rounded part—and smiled with satisfaction. Blue-green hair with a red rose, I looked just like a human rose.

That is, not that I was as pretty as a rose, but the color combination. Hmm, the more I explain, the more awkward it gets, so I’ll stop here.

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

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

Grandfather said he would leave an hour later. He probably wanted to give me more time to enjoy with peers.

Strictly speaking, I’m not particularly close with either Rosette or Bash. Among the many yet few peers in Iota, should they be classified as “friends” because we’re “somewhat” acquainted and have conversed?

The children of Iota have known each other almost since birth, but well. Neither I nor they know what colors each other likes, what foods they hate, or what they plan to do in the future.

If knowing “how much” about someone is a symbol of friendship, then I’m much closer to you.

Carol, this is the first time I’ve known so much about someone in such a short time. Of course, some things you’ve said might not be true. Perhaps you deliberately omitted some parts to make me misunderstand.

But does that really matter?

Even in face-to-face relationships, people package themselves to appear more likable. If the other person wants to be seen “that way,” believing “that way” is also proper.

Carol. Carol.

Surely your name isn’t a lie? Everything else is fine, but I hope you haven’t lied about your name. Of course, I’m not unaware of the heroic tales of heroes who abandoned their original names and gained new ones.

But the era of war ended long before we were born.

Our names aren’t names given hoping for the end of war, and the same goes for Rosette and Bash. The names of newly born babies tend to contain the wishes of that generation.

Oh, I’ve gone too far off topic.

The party, well, wasn’t bad at all. It was quite enjoyable. Some people complained it was the same every year, but even those people came out to enjoy the party.

Occasionally, some kids boasted they would participate in big festivals on the mainland as soon as they became adults.

Since they can’t go to the mainland before becoming adults, fantasies about the “mainland” are at their peak. A life where the sea blocks your path no matter which direction you go is somewhat frustrating.

Though it’s also comfortable to that extent. After all, I haven’t even seen all of Iota yet.

For a healthy person, it would take three or four days, no, just two days to see the entire area. If that were the case, I would have more to tell you.

The annual event held on the longest day of the year, I would readily share everything as soon as you asked. The dresses that change every year, the expressions of children awkwardly asking for dates, the rising flames.

Yes, flames.

The “party” isn’t anything particularly grand. In a big city it might be different, but here familiar people just dance and sing in more formal attire than usual.

Between the tall trees hang old, transparent cloths that flutter magnificently when the wind blows, and the piano placed outdoors constantly changes hands, playing all kinds of music.

From the island’s folk songs to recently popular tunes.

When the sun sets, people light a pile of high-stacked firewood. Enormous flames rise up, and brave children put mullet skewered on sticks into the gaps to roast and eat.

People gather in a circle around those flames to dance, play games, and drink alcohol. Except for the children, of course.

When adults drink, they loosen up considerably, and some clever kids take advantage of this to sneak a glass or two. Rosette was one of them.

She smoothly and shamelessly got drinks and still stood quite straight.

Yes, Rosette.

Rosette stayed with me the entire day. Even though Bash was clearly her partner. Of course, even if a “partner” is just a companion for a day and night, they were still paired together for that day.

I don’t know about Rosette, but Bash obviously expected to spend time alone with the prettiest girl on the island. Rosette matched her pace to mine, showing me around while never stopping her greetings.

She’s that popular. The kind of girl who makes people turn back and chase after her even if they just passed by.

While Rosette showed me where the sun sets most beautifully, the orange trees planted last summer, and dances popular on the mainland, Bash patiently stayed by her side. Even chiming in with encouragement.

I’d heard he was kind and diligent, but his ability to show no signs of displeasure for over half a day was admirable.

Did he like Rosette that much? Or was it his nature?

He must be good-natured enough to support a girl he’s not close with—even the sister of his former crush who is now married.

When I shared this observation with Rosette, she raised an eyebrow and answered indifferently, “That’s just how he is.”

If that were all, I would have concluded that Rosette truly had no feelings for Bash. But that wasn’t quite the case.

I wrote earlier, right?

As the night deepens, adults loosen up considerably. That also means the watchful eyes monitoring “things children shouldn’t do” relax.

They don’t pay much attention to what grown children are doing where. So even those who normally consider public opinion become more daring.

What this means is, as perceptive as you are, you’ve probably already guessed.

Rosette and Bash kissed.

Right in front of me.

In the romance novels I’ve read, couples kiss secretly in private places, but they were much bolder.

Right in front of the rising flames, they went from exchanging silly banter to entwining their tongues. Goodness.

I froze while eating chocolate-dipped, slightly frozen blueberries. I wasn’t far away at all, just returning after buying some snacks.

They were so absorbed in their kiss that they didn’t notice my arrival for quite some time. The darkness obscured their expressions, but Rosette’s hair shone unrealistically bright.

Like a comet’s tail. Long and smooth purple.

After standing dazed for a moment, I turned and left. And now I’m writing to you. It would have been nice to dance more to the music, but this is enough.

My energy is completely depleted, and I’m not thick-skinned enough to dance alone when everyone else has paired up.