Fish Don't Know About Water - Chapter 59

He stopped abruptly as he was about to unfold the paper. It was one of the scores he had discarded. Although there were words written on the back, he shook his head without even looking at them.

“No, no more practice…”

“Please, just once!”

“I said no…”

“Just once? Please?”

How could he refuse his wife, who was clasping his hands and pleading? His heart softened, and he reluctantly nodded. She joyfully removed the earmuffs hanging around her neck.

“Wait. If you wear these, you won’t hear your own voice.”

On closer inspection, they were earmuffs soldiers wore when firing cannons.

“Why do you carry around something like this?”

“They’re useful whenever I feel embarrassed listening to people badmouthing me.”

“This is… mi, military equipment.”

Judging by the golden lion emblem embroidered on the inside of the cover, it was definitely military supplies for officers.

“Yes. The performance is so good that you can’t hear anything around you, not even your own voice.”

Of course. This was an enchanted item meant to ensure ‘no sound could be heard.’ That’s why it was specially issued only to high-ranking officers.

Viett looked down at the earmuffs suspiciously. Why did Phenelity have these…? I never gave her mine.

“Who, who gave you this?”

“Officer Phileas gave it to me a long time ago, saying he had a spare…”

Phileas was the name of the officer who used to follow Phenelity around. On the day Viett first met Phenelity, she was wearing his uniform jacket over her shoulders.

That bastard… Viett was deeply displeased that his wife was using an item from such a shady guy.

“That’s clear misappropriation of military supplies.”

“Really?”

“This is a-an item specially made by the Mi-Ministry of Magic… civilians shouldn’t h-have it.”

He tried to speak calmly, hiding his spiteful feelings, but his voice came out full of annoyed sarcasm.

Startled by his own poor speech, he quickly checked his wife’s expression. Fortunately, Phenelity was engrossed in examining the earmuffs.

“What should I do? I guess I’ll have to return it to Officer Phileas.”

So, she intended to meet that guy again. Viett couldn’t suppress his displeasure and furrowed his brows.

“Just give it to me.”

“Alright!”

Phenelity quickly put the earmuffs on his ears, standing on tiptoe. As he looked at her in astonishment, she widened her eyes as if to say, ‘You asked for it, didn’t you?’

Viett suppressed the urge to throw the earmuffs out the window and turned his gaze to the wall mirror.

In the arched mirror stood a man with a sullen face. His hair was a mess, pressed down by the large earmuffs, and he held a crumpled score in his hand.

‘What is this?’

As he shook the score and asked, he couldn’t hear his own voice. At that moment, Phenelity’s eyes widened. Her face, which had been twitching as if he was about to laugh, became a bit more serious.

‘It’s nothing, just a poem.’

He read her silently moving lips and frowned.

‘I told you I hate poems.’

As he was about to tear up the score, she urgently grabbed his hand.

‘It’s not even a quarter of the length of your speech! Please, just once!’

‘Damn it…’

‘You never stutter when you swear. It’s so annoying.’

She grumbled with a hurt expression. Only after a long time did Viett unfold the score with trembling hands.

‘…Just this once.’

Phenelity beamed and nodded. He lowered his gaze to the back of the sheet music. He slowly read the neatly written words.

‘My sea.
You look like white waves and taste of blue.’

He read slowly and lifted his head. Phenelity beamed and began to clap his hands.

‘That was really good. Try breathing a bit slower!’

With a puzzled look, he slowly exhaled and continued reading the remaining poem.

‘Your skin is gentle and smells of sandy beaches.
Even if I light the cigar in my mouth,
the scent of sunshine covers the smoke clouds.

My sea.
You recorded the traces of waves
and the old phonograph still plays.’

The old phonograph… He unconsciously lifted his gaze. He saw the record spinning and the rusty, darkened speaker.

‘My sea.
With your calloused hands,
you swim across the beloved keys.’

Viett glanced at Phenelity and then continued reading the poem.

‘When you shed raindrops,
we embraced each other.

As if held in the arms of the waves.
As if embracing the blue in my arms.
We are together in the water.’

With a swoosh, the earplugs dropped under his chin. Viett took his eyes off the sheet music and blinked blankly. Phenelity was looking up at him with a bright smile.

“Did you know you didn’t stutter even once just now?”

“Th-That’s… that’s a lie.”

“It’s true! It really worked.”

“…That’s a lie.”

Viett stared at the back of the sheet music with suspicious eyes. He had read such a long poem without stuttering even once. It couldn’t be true.

“Why don’t you believe me? I’ll record it and play it back for you later.”

“There’s… there’s no later. I clearly said I’d only do this once.”

“That’s so petty.”

He fiddled with the sheet music for no reason. He stared at the handwriting on the back for a long time. It was identical to the handwriting he had seen a few times when Phenelity was hospitalized in the field hospital. With a hesitant heart, he asked.

“Th-This… who wrote this poem?”

“I did.”

“You, you did?”

Unbelievable. Could his wife write such calm and serene poetry? Was she sick or something? He reached out with a worried face and touched her white forehead. She didn’t seem to have a fever.

“When you were playing the piano early this morning. I scribbled it down then.”

Phenelity shook her head, shaking off his hand.

“Wh-Why suddenly write a poem…?”

“I thought it might be a bit better since it’s a poem I wrote.”

Viett closed his mouth. He stared blankly at his confidently smiling wife, and his eyes stung.

“It’s more comforting than an old poem by a medieval poet you don’t even know the face of, right?”

He wanted to answer but his throat tickled, so he just hung his head low. She pouted her lips as she watched him silently fidget with the sheet music.

“You’re making it awkward! At least say yes or no.”

“…”

“This proves that reciting poetry is effective. Let’s practice vocalization together steadily in the palace.”

“…But I don’t want to read p-poetry.”

“There you go again, being stubborn.”

He read her poem on the back of the sheet music again. He read and re-read it. The trembling words stayed on the tip of his tongue. He slowly opened his eyes, which he had closed for a moment. He saw his wife’s puzzled expression. He stared blankly into her clear green eyes and mumbled.

“If it were a l-letter…”

“A letter?”

Phenelity tilted her head with a puzzled look.

“Are you asking me to write a letter for your vocal practice?”

“After all, this… is more like a l-letter than a poem.”

He gave a barely plausible reason, shaking the sheet music slightly.

“Maybe it w-worked well because it was a l-letter you wrote…”

“Sometimes you really are like a prince. Not even a child throwing a tantrum…”

After a moment of contemplation, she nodded with a kind face.

“Alright. But you have to write me a reply.”

“A r-reply?”

“Of course! Were you planning to just receive without giving anything?”

The only letters he had exchanged with a woman were the brief notes he sent to Rose during his days as a cadet. Even those were mostly one-sided notifications like ‘I won’t be returning to the palace this vacation.’ Rose had been angry then, saying his letters lacked sincerity and emotion.

Wouldn’t it just lead to unnecessary fights? Viett thought of his rough and clumsy writing style and made an awkward face.

“I can’t… can’t promise it’ll be any good.”

“Then it’s a deal?”

“A d-deal?”

Viett frowned. The day Minister Hinler had cast a brainwashing spell on her came to mind.

The day they had traded the phonograph under a spell for her freedom. They had made a ‘deal’ that day too. He didn’t want their letters to each other to be tainted with such emotionless language.

“Don’t ever use th-that word for o-our promises again.”

“Huh? Okay.”

When he spoke sharply, Phenelity nodded with a dazed look. Then she clapped her hands and glared at him.

“Right! A letter is a letter, and this is this! Give me your response now.”