Miss, It’s Just a Cold

Chapter 51: Brushing It Off

It was dawn when I left the mansion.

A few servants followed me, but it seemed the friend who would have stirred up trouble without Aria’s permission had already gone to sleep.

Or maybe it was because I had this conversational “helper” in my hand.

This magical piece of iron was undoubtedly humanity’s greatest invention. It sent away those who didn’t want to talk and educated those who didn’t communicate properly.

Thanks to it, we just exchanged glances for a while. When they didn’t open the door for me, I climbed over the fence.

I wondered if this was really okay, but I figured it wouldn’t matter.

After all, I couldn’t live here freeloading forever.

The night air was quite refreshing.

It was dark, barely visible, and for some reason, it felt as if everything was weighed down.

At least for me, it felt refreshing.

Even if I happened to run into some strange people while walking, it wouldn’t matter much.

After all, I had a pistol with loaded bullets tucked inside my coat.

When I looked up at the sky, the moon was a pale blue.

They say you should always make a wish when you see a blue moon.

I wasn’t sure about everything in jazz, but I’d always loved Billie Holiday’s “Blue Moon.”

Her drowsy voice, the sudden interruption of piercing brass instruments, and the subtle support of the contrabass behind it all — with the piano weaving everything together — I liked that feeling.

Humming the melody, I walked forward.

Maybe it was a mistake for a woman to be walking alone, humming at such a late hour.

A group of people in tattered suits, hands shoved in their pockets, were leaning against the wall, staring at me.

Since it was late at night, I hadn’t thought much of it. But when I glanced around, I realized I was on a street where the slums and the ordinary residential areas blended together.

They were quite the cliché characters.

Just like me, Aria, and Ernst.

Their appearance screamed “thieves” or “men preying on women’s bodies.”

“Miss, it’s pretty dangerous to be wandering around this part of town at night…”

I heard them say something, but the words didn’t reach me clearly.

Beeeeeeep

A high-pitched ringing filled my ears.

To keep from losing my mind, I recited the drum rhythms I had memorized from watching Buddy Rich videos.

I might have looked a little crazy doing that, but I felt like I’d lose my mind otherwise.

Anyway, these were people who would trample over others’ reasons for living or happiness the moment the opportunity presented itself.

So I figured it was fine.

I slowly pulled out the pistol, fumbling a bit as I clumsily fit the creaking chamber into place and pulled back the stiff hammer.

For some reason, my hands were trembling. Gripping the pistol with both hands, I aimed it at them and pulled the trigger.

Bang!

No, it was more of a boom than a bang.

It sounded like a bomb had exploded right in front of me.

Because of the recoil, I fell backward, landing on my backside. My wrist was numb from the impact.

The only light was from the fire burning inside the rusty barrel. I didn’t get to see what expression the unlucky man who got shot was making.

Sitting there on the cold ground for a while, I took a few deep breaths. Then I got up, brushed off my pants, and headed back to the mansion.

A cough escaped me.

Maybe it was because the night air was a little chilly.

My throat stung a bit, but strangely, I wasn’t in pain. It must have been because of the odd thrill coursing through me.

Humming a waltz, I moved forward.

If only there had been a piano. Even a tiny violin would’ve been enough.

Then maybe things wouldn’t have ended up like this.

This wasn’t my fault.

None of it.

Now I can finally be free.

How many years have I been crushed under it all?

Taking a deep breath, I exhaled slowly, repeating it over and over again.

If, on your way back from a ball, you spotted a woman standing under a streetlamp wearing a white dress soaked in blood, holding a pistol in one hand, how many people would be able to stay calm?

And if that woman turned out to be the childhood friend from next door, you’d be even more stunned.

As soon as I spotted Emily, I jumped off the carriage and ran toward her.

“…Weren’t you supposed to stay at the mansion?”

“If you think about it, this is a mansion too.”

“Quit the wordplay.”

“Come on, I just came back to where I’m supposed to be. What’s the problem with that?”

Emily said that as she glanced at herself.

Droplets of blood were clinging to her face. Something had trickled from her lips down her chin, probably after coughing.

Her loose white dress, especially around her chest and stomach, had been stained red.

“Ah.”

Emily scratched the back of her head with the handle of her pistol before tucking it into her waistband.

“This probably looks pretty scary, huh?

Hey, Ernst. Mind lending me a bathroom and some clothes? Actually, never mind. I’ll just wash them myself.

Doesn’t sound like a bad idea, does it?”

“……”

What am I supposed to say?

Should I ask if she shot someone?

Or should I ask if she really just got blood on herself from coughing?

I knew that wasn’t the case, but the innocent childhood friend I used to know was long gone.

It happened so gradually.

Bit by bit, her expression grew darker as the days went by.

The girl who always wore sleeveless tops or short-sleeve shirts suddenly started wearing long sleeves, even during the scorching summer.

Why hadn’t I noticed?

Was it because Emily hadn’t said anything to me?

Or was it just that, as childhood friends do, we’d grown distant over time?

Or was it because she didn’t go to school?

Maybe I got so used to seeing her every day that I grew numb to it.

“…What are you staring at me for?”

“…Just come inside.

The bathroom is two doors to the right of my room. Take off your clothes and leave them outside the door. The servants will come to wash them.”

“So, what am I supposed to wear in the meantime?”

“Wear my clothes or something.”

At my words, Emily blinked for a moment before breaking into a sly grin, shrugging her shoulders.

I’d felt it for a while, but something about her gestures didn’t match someone our age.

“Not a bad idea.”

Emily casually walked past me, stepping through the front door.

The butler, upon seeing Emily drenched in blood, froze with a shocked expression.

I pressed a finger to my lips, silently signaling him to stay quiet. He quickly hid his reaction.

The butler stared at the pistol in Emily’s hand for a long time.

With a sigh, Emily handed it to him.

Then, she headed toward the bathroom I’d mentioned.

While she was gone, I returned to my room and prepared things for her — a cup of coffee with a pleasant aroma and some snacks that weren’t too sweet.

I snacked on one of the savory little treats as I waited.

The taste was rich but left a slightly salty aftertaste.

For some reason, it made me feel gloomy.

It felt like everything that had happened to Emily was somehow my fault.

I know all too well that no amount of self-reproach will solve anything.

But even so, the heavy feeling lodged in one corner of my heart showed no signs of easing.

Especially whenever I remembered that we hadn’t really spoken properly for the past few years.

We’d only spent a few months close to each other, but it felt like I was gradually fading while being pulled deeper into Emily.

Whether I was speaking, idling my time away, meeting Aria, or attending a ball, Emily’s presence constantly surfaced in my mind.

It felt like I was being tossed around at her whim.

Yet, I couldn’t bring myself to resist.

Even when she lashed out at me with words, suddenly approached only to pull away, or outright pushed me aside.

She didn’t ask for understanding.

“It’s because I’m in pain.”

“It’s just how my personality is.”

“It’s your fault for not being able to accept it.”

Those kinds of words.

Emily, having washed up and now wearing my clothes, entered the room.

The pleasant scent of soap lingered.

We’d used the same soap, yet somehow, it smelled much better on her.

It left me quietly surprised.

“Every time I see it, I can’t believe how big this room is.”

I almost replied, “Isn’t this just a normal-sized room?” but I stopped myself when I thought about Emily’s circumstances.

Any time I tried to say something like that, I was always reminded of the harsh reality she’d been through — one far worse than anything I could have imagined.

That time, when she cried and said, “Isn’t it only natural for parents to love their children?”

“Hey, why are you just staring at me like that?”

“…Where did you get that gun?”

“Who knows.”

Emily let out a small snicker, pulled out a chair, and sat down, crossing her legs.

She placed her hands on the desk and started tapping her fingers rhythmically.

I wanted to ask the person in front of me something.

Was I so unreliable that you couldn’t even ask me for help?

But I didn’t ask.

Because I knew Emily wasn’t the type to avoid the question. She would’ve answered with a simple, “Yeah, that’s right.”

I was a coward, stupid, and slow-witted.

Even if that wasn’t true, the moment I failed to notice my childhood friend falling apart right in front of me, that was the moment I became that kind of person.

If I didn’t return the gun to her, nothing would happen.

But that wasn’t a choice I could make.

Because if I did, this friend sitting right in front of me would really die.

Up until now, it had felt like everything was somehow working itself out — like there were no hardships, no troubles.

“…Hey, Emily.”

“Yeah?”

“From now on… let’s just act like none of this ever happened. You and I, we…”

I was going to suggest something outrageous.

“Let’s get married.”

But when I saw her blank, expressionless face, the words caught in my throat.

“…Go on, keep talking,” she said.

What… What was I supposed to say to her?

What could I possibly say to you right now?