PAGE 5. OUTSIDER

[To Carol

Thank you for the birthday present! As you hoped, the letter arrived at just the right time.—Though you weren’t the first to congratulate me, I think this way is much cooler.—Our mailman must have run diligently.

If I enter the painting, could I go meet you too? It makes me imagine unrealistic things. But since our continued exchange of letters is already at the intersection of an ‘unrealistic’ situation, it’s not entirely impossible, is it?

I could just grab the mailman’s wrist right when he drops the letter. Then I could naturally step inside too, couldn’t I?

What do you think of my hypothesis?

Of course, I won’t actually try it. What if the angry mailman stops delivering even letters, or abandons me inside the painting? That would be very troublesome.

So I’ll leave the hypothesis as just that, and tell you about what happened today. In great detail.

My body wasn’t too bad, so I could wake up early in the morning. Thanks to that, I was able to eat the carrot cake and mushroom soup Grandfather baked for me.

Mushrooms are very rare in Iota, so we only eat them as nourishing food on birthdays or after being terribly sick in bed. Today was the former, so I was happy, but eating mushroom soup made me feel like I was getting a fever when I didn’t have one.

Before, there was a time when I was laid up for weeks, unable to even drink rice porridge. Grandfather called in famous doctors and healers from Delling. Though he doesn’t say it in front of Grandfather, the villagers predicted I wouldn’t live long.

Whether it was Grandfather’s devoted care or the extraordinary skills of the healers and doctors—anyway, I survived! And my body got better.

At that time, Grandfather was busy feeding me everything known to be good for health. Cutting mushrooms into tiny pieces for me to eat, mixing precious honey with water for me to drink.

Anyway, I feel like I ate every mushroom in the world back then. It’s not that the texture or taste is bad, but chewing it reminded me a lot of that time.

But since Grandfather had thoughtfully obtained it for me, I couldn’t complain, could I? I pulled the corners of my mouth up to my cheekbones and ate diligently. I ate two bowls of soup, enough that I didn’t need to eat lunch.

When the meal ended, Grandfather lightly kissed both my cheeks and handed me a paper-wrapped package.

The birthday present was several books imported from Delling. There were art collections and sheet music books. He must have noticed that I’ve been flipping through art books and plinking on the piano lately.

Actually, I wanted to receive a different gift, but felt a bit embarrassed to say so at this age. Books not available at Iota’s bookstore are certainly wonderful gifts!

Aila also sent a gift. I actually received it a few days ago, but I’ve been waiting to open it today. The package was very small, so I had my suspicions, and I wasn’t wrong.

Can you guess what it was? Something very necessary for me, and something you couldn’t do without either.

It was a pen and ink!

The long pen has a small jewel attached at the end, making a rattling sound every time I write. That sound isn’t as annoying as you might think. My name is engraved at the tip of the pen, with silver paint filling the finely carved grooves. It has a subtle elegance.

I don’t need to tell you about the new ink, right? Since you’re seeing it now! The writing feel is very smooth, and the way it spreads is very pretty. Doesn’t it move across the paper like velvet?

There was no letter, just a card saying ‘Happy Birthday,’ but it was satisfying enough. She sent a separate greeting letter to Grandfather, so it doesn’t matter for me, her younger sister.

It seems she’s enjoying a luxurious life near the capital. I hope Aila is happy enough.

That’s how the brief gift-giving ceremony ended! Different from what you expected?

To begin with, neither Rosette nor Bash knows when my birthday is. Until last year, that is, when Aila was still at home, we just cut a cake and I received gifts, that’s all.

There was no one to tell, and no reason to.

Birthdays for me, well, didn’t feel that special. Though others say it’s something worth celebrating.

Still, I was happy to receive your congratulations. Sincerely. And I was happy to be able to congratulate you on your birthday last summer.

This is my first handmade gift. A flower that doesn’t wither—I thought that itself was ‘eternity.’ I wanted to decorate my new hat with it, and thought it would look nice pinned to the front of my blouse.

But I was afraid it might tear in the wind or get dusty, so for now I’ve placed it beside my bed. So I can see it every day.

I’m not dexterous, so I could never dream of such skill. My knitting and embroidery are a mess, and I often press two piano keys at once.

Truly, I guarantee it’s the best gift of my life.

Really.

I don’t know if you’ll ‘really’ believe me, but I didn’t miss the snow I’ve never seen. My thoughts might change if I actually saw it, but right now, your paper flower is the best.

And it will continue to be.

Until your letter came, there wasn’t much different about my birthday. My body wasn’t well enough to go out in front of the house.

Eating cake, receiving gifts. Even family can’t stick together all day, right? Grandfather and I soon went to our respective rooms.

As usual, I read a few pages in the study, peeked down the corridor, played the piano a few times in the reception room, then peeked down the corridor again.

Wondering, ‘Has a letter arrived?’ I swear I waited for it more than for my birthday itself.

Was it after practicing the sheet music you gave me about ten times? Your letter arrived. So I’m hurriedly writing back.

Thank you, Carol.

I hope I can celebrate your seventeenth birthday.

Sent by Asha

P.S. Actually, I wanted to ask Grandfather to carry me on his back. But I’m not a tiny child the size of a kidney bean, and Grandfather has aged a lot. I’ll probably continue to grow, but who will carry me?]

[To Asha who turned seventeen

You received a wonderful birthday present! Practicing the same piece ten times in one day, can’t you play it without looking now?

Even if you think ‘Is that possible?’ when you actually try, your fingers will move on their own. The idiom ‘doing something with eyes closed’ didn’t come from nowhere.

Sometimes when I place my hands on the piano keys, my hands move naturally even for pieces whose titles I’ve forgotten.

You can tell the difference between paths people have walked and those they haven’t, right? When people frequently pass through, even unpaved roads become firm with accumulated footprints. When playing a piece I practiced long ago, it feels like crossing such a path.

They say you can tell a person’s personality by how they play the piano.

To be specific, whether they sit with a straight or curved back, where their foot is just before pressing the pedal, whether their arms are stretched out or their shoulders are hunched.

Some people bury their noses in the sheet music and fret over every note, while others remain relaxed even if they miss a note or two, as if that’s how the music was written.

Which type are you?