“I’ll go today.”

“Hmm? Alone, child?”

“Yes, alone. Grandfather, you have to leave soon.”

She’s turning sixteen this winter. In other households, she would have been helping her parents with work long ago at this age. But unlike her peers who could swallow seawater and be fine, the old man’s second granddaughter was particularly sensitive and weak.

Her thin skin would turn red with just a little strong sunlight, and she would collapse easily with just a little exertion.

If daily living was difficult, it would be different, but thanks to having accumulated wealth in his younger days sailing the seas, there was no need to push his sick granddaughter outside.

Asha, knowing her own physical condition, never insisted on doing things like others or going places. Her only hobby was quietly reading books she had collected over time inside the house.

For such a granddaughter to say she would go somewhere that would take at least thirty minutes of walking!

“Are you really, really sure you’ll be okay alone?”

Habitual worry and subtle hope stirred William intensely.

Whether she knew her grandfather’s concern or not, Asha changed into the sky-blue outdoor clothes inherited from her sister and tidied herself up.

“If anything happens, be sure to grab anyone nearby and ask for help.”

“I know.”

“Make sure to use the parasol. The sun has become much stronger these days.”

While he himself roamed the sea without even a hat, the old man’s instructions continued endlessly.

“Did you bring your water bottle? Be careful not to lose your money. If you feel dizzy, sit down right there.”

“Mmm.”

“Although there’s hardly anyone who wouldn’t know you, if someone doesn’t, mention my name or Aila’s and find your way home! I’ll be at the usual beach. The place with the black cliff, you know?”

“How could I not know that? I know everything.”

Carefully heeding her grandfather’s concerns, Asha opened her white parasol and went outside. While others were running around in sleeveless clothes in this weather, Asha blocked the sun not only with her parasol but also with a thin fabric robe.

While Asha moved between her bedroom and the study, Iota’s summer had fully ripened. The long summer hadn’t even reached half its course, but Asha was already overwhelmed by the intense sunlight.

Densely grown leaves swayed heavily, making sounds like small glass bells ringing. To Asha, Iota was both familiar and unfamiliar.

Though she had lived on the island her whole life, she went out so infrequently that the island changed its clothes quickly according to the seasons and weather.

The narrow dirt path with thick leaves was the same. The flat rocks were now covered with small scribbles as if scratched with pebbles, and the smell of unripe greenness wafted in from somewhere.

In the midst of savoring all these changes, a mild dizziness disturbed her hazy vision.

Once, twice.

Her small body swayed like a reed. Her clear hands flailed in the air trying to grab onto something, and timely, a solid body supported Asha.

“Ugh……”

“Are you okay?”

Black hair spread carelessly like a shade, blocking the sunlight. Blue eyes drooped slightly, and Asha, blinking slowly, bit her lips and nodded.

“It’s been a while, Asha.”

“Hello, Bash.”

The boy, once one of Aila’s followers, smiled quite maturely and picked up the parasol that had fallen to the ground.

The gesture of dusting off the dirt wasn’t particularly careful but quite considerate.

“Where are you going?”

“To the bookstore.”

“Oh, that’s quite far.”

It wasn’t far at all, but Bash, like all the kids who liked Aila, knew well about Asha’s thin stamina.

“Let’s go together. I’ll take you there.”

“Aren’t you busy?”

“It’s fine.”

Even though being nice to Asha wouldn’t help him get closer to Aila anymore, the young man gently took care of Asha as he had occasionally done before.

Asha accepted his pure goodwill—if she hadn’t, she would have obviously collapsed on the dirt path—and adjusted her parasol.

For walking together along the not-so-distant—but somewhat challenging for Asha—dirt path, he wasn’t a bad companion. The boy, two years older than Asha and two years younger than her sister, showed signs of becoming an adult.

Growing rapidly, his pants fell above his ankles, and his worn shirt looked difficult to raise his arms in. But that awkward attire didn’t diminish the man’s charm.

Bash is unquestionably the most handsome boy in Iota.

Until now, he must have swallowed his regrets while looking only at Aila like a sunflower, but now there would be many aiming for that neat young man.

Asha calmly speculated as she glanced at his darkly tanned skin and dense brown eyelashes. With a face completely unaware of how the other person thought of him, the young man continued the conversation, neither chatty nor taciturn.

“About this party.”

“Ah, you’re going with Rosette, right?”

“That’s right. Did Rosie tell you?”

Rosie. At the nickname used by most people on the island, the corner of Asha’s mouth twisted slightly.

The kind and cheerful Rosette easily allowed everyone to use her nickname, and this applied equally to a boy living next door or the sister of an admired older girl.

Yet somehow……

“Hmm, some kids will be disappointed.”

At her dry response, Bash simply grinned without denial. Being kind and being oblivious were separate domains, and this large boy was both kind and perceptive.

The man, who had lived sensing intense gazes directed at him since childhood, shrugged his shoulders once and gently changed the subject.

The topic shifted to the food that would be served at the party, and meanwhile, the two arrived at the bookstore.

Bash didn’t leave right away but followed behind Asha. Since it wasn’t unsightly or troublesome—he didn’t interfere with her movements or ask unnecessary questions—Asha quietly focused on her business.

The island’s only bookstore sold not only books but also various stationery and writing supplies.

Moving quickly through the bustling shelves, Asha instantly selected several new books along with the most expensive and unique letter paper.

“Letter paper. Are you sending it to Aila?”

“No.”

“Then to whom?”

“I want to tell someone I played the piano.”

“Huh?”

“Though I haven’t tried it yet.”

It was an enigmatic answer. The gentle brown eyes were demanding an explanation, but Asha lightly ignored that gaze.

A book on northern cooking methods, a detective novel that contemporary teachers detested, an art collection published by the royal art gallery.

There was no consistency in the selection. On the counter were colorful letter papers, a map of the kingdom, and dark blue ink too expensive for regular writing.

“Let me know if you need ink. We have extra at home.”

“We still have several bottles at our house too.”

“Huh?”

“……A change of mood. I’ll pay now.”

“You came yourself today. Is your grandfather well?”

“Yes.”

Though her impression was too blunt to be considered merely shy, the store owner continued speaking regardless.

The youngest granddaughter of that house, who always lived with a cough, had few words and carried herself quietly, perhaps because she stayed indoors all the time. Meanwhile, other children around her age all ran off to the sea and fields. The bookstore owner shook his head slightly and offered a light consolation.

“Well, stay strong. Your grandfather’s mind will be more at ease if you’re healthy.”

“Yes……”

Her arms holding the package tensed, but the owner assumed it was because her new purchases were heavy. Fortunately, before the store owner could say anything, the man beside her took the package for her.

Asha didn’t refuse this kindness either and left the bookstore. Her strangely subdued face softened a bit as she met the damp sea breeze.

The thin shade under the parasol made her gentle eyes appear even deeper. Like carrying a small sun, her curly blue-green hair fluttered fiercely as if drawn with a thick brush in powerful strokes.

The white parasol tilted diagonally, and fragments of sunlight painted her round forehead before covering it again.

The return journey was quieter than before. Having achieved her purpose and gained some leisure, Asha indulged in admiring flowers she hadn’t noticed on the way there.

“It’s summer.”

Even while Asha lay sick staring at the ceiling, time marched steadily on. Like how ripe fruits are picked and fresh green fruits form again.

The sensation that time was leaving only her behind.