A Depressed Kendo Player Possesses a Bastard Aristocrat - Chapter 114 (2) - A Depressed Kendo Player Possesses a Bastard Aristocrat

.

.

After what felt like an eternity, my tears subsided.

Just then, the sound of a door creaking open, followed by a familiar voice, reached my ears.

“Brother! What are you doing here? You called me to your room…”

I hastily wiped away the remaining traces of tears and turned around, forcing an awkward smile.

“You came.”

Ariel stood there, dressed in her nightgown.

She looked at me, standing miserably on the winter terrace, with a puzzled expression. 

I shrugged, pretending it was nothing.

“Just, looking at the stars.”

“In this freezing weather? What if you catch a cold? And you’re so lightly dressed…”

“I appreciate the concern, but I’m not going to keel over from a little fresh air…”

She’s been treating me like a fragile glass figurine lately.

As if I hadn’t survived a spear through the gut from that monstrous beast.

I chuckled dryly and gestured towards the crimson-haired girl.

“The stars are beautiful tonight, no clouds. Come here.”

Ariel grumbled something about me being impossible but came and stood beside me.

We stood side by side, gazing up at the night sky.

The wind brushed against our faces, playfully ruffling our hair.

Every now and then, I caught a glimpse of black and red strands dancing in the breeze.

The scent of another person, faint but present, brought a touch of warmth to the cold night air.

Lost in the moment, I felt a poke in my side.

“Brother.”

“Hmm?”

“Have you been crying?”

“…”

Instead of answering, I turned to look at her.

Her eyes, a clear, vibrant red, met mine.

They held a mixture of affection and something akin to longing.

Those red eyes…

Meeting her gaze, so similar to our mother’s, I gave her a small smile.

“Was it that obvious?”

“Yes… Your eyes are all red.”

“…”

My stomach churned.

A lump formed in my throat,

As if someone had shoved a ball of hot dough down my esophagus.

“Brother, are you alright…?”

-Raiden, are you okay…?

Ariel’s image seemed to overlap with a phantom from the past.

Crimson hair.

Crimson eyes.

And a voice filled with concern for me.

I realized then how beautifully Ariel had blossomed.

The sight of my little sister, who had grown into such a lovely young woman, much like our mother, stirred something deep within me.

Even though she had lost her mother and had to endure a childhood with a broken, unreliable older brother.

Ariel had bloomed like a resilient rose in a field of thorns.

I was proud of her, and yet, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt.

“Brother, why are you so out of it…? Is something wrong?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Liar.”

“I’m serious.”

Ariel puffed out her cheeks, demanding the truth.

I gently patted her head a few times.

Then, to distract her, I held out something I had been holding in my other hand.

“Huh…? What’s this, Brother?”

“Something I’ve been meaning to show you.”

“Really?”

“Yes… I’ve been putting it off, but I think it’s time.”

“Is that why you called me to your room tonight?”

“Yes…”

“Hmm… Is it a book? Or a notebook?”

{Motherly Note}

Ariel stared at the notebook in my hand, then flinched.

She must have seen Mother’s name engraved on the cover.

Her red eyes trembled slightly.

“Brother… This, this is…”

“Shh.”

I silenced Ariel, who was clearly in shock.

She must have had a million questions, but seeing it would be better than any explanation I could offer.

I quietly flipped open the notebook.

Rustle, rustle…

Slowly, I turned each page,

Making sure Ariel, standing beside me, could see the words written inside.

The quiet rustling of paper filled the space between us.

As I reached the middle of the notebook, Ariel began to cry.

She was biting her lip, trying to hold back her tears, but it seemed like an impossible task.

I continued to turn the pages.

“Ugh…”

“…”

With each passing page,

With each word of our mother’s story,

Ariel’s soft sobs grew louder.

And as I listened to her cries, I felt a familiar stinging sensation in my own eyes.

Rustle, rustle…

When I reached the last page,

I channeled a bit of mana into the paper with trembling hands.

As always, a familiar voice, preserved within the notebook, reached our ears.

《Static… Crackle…》

《My children… I love you forever.》

《When the world pushes you away and sadness weighs you down, remember this.》

《That Mother is always by your side…》

At those warm words,

A hot tear traced its way down my cheek.

As I roughly wiped my wet eyes, trying to swallow the bitter lump in my throat, I saw her looking up at me through my blurred vision.

“…”

“…”

Our eyes met.

A maelstrom of emotions, unspoken questions, and lingering grief swirled and intertwined in that shared gaze.

We stood there, connected by that tangled winter knot.

A heavy silence hung in the air.

It was Ariel who broke the silence.

“…It’s a diary. Mom’s diary.”

I simply nodded, unable to speak.

“Where did you find it?”

“Mother’s study… In the back of the last bookshelf, where the servants rarely went.”

“I see…”

Ariel’s voice trembled as she fought back another wave of sobs.

I gently reached out and wiped away the tears that had spilled onto her cheeks.

She leaned into my touch, resting her cheek against my palm.

The feeling of her tears on my skin made me bite my lip.

“Brother, when… When did you find this?”

“…About a month after Mother passed away.”

“Why didn’t you show it to me? All this time…”

Her question hung in the air.

My heart pounded in my chest like a broken clock’s alarm.

I could feel the carefully constructed facade I had built around myself beginning to crack.

At that moment,

I wished the moonlight wasn’t so bright.

I wished the darkness surrounding us was thicker, deeper.

Because if it wasn’t, Ariel would see me crumble, broken and exposed.

“…I’m sorry, Ariel.”

The apology escaped my lips, weak and heavy with unspoken meaning.

“I was afraid.”

Afraid that you would hate me.

“I was afraid that if you saw this diary, you would hate me for surviving in her place…”

A vile, despicable son who had lived because his mother had died.

I was terrified that you would despise me for it.

“Everyone seemed to hate me because it was my fault Mother died…”

I was a coward, blinded by my own grief.

Even as I wished for everyone to turn their backs on me in disgust,

A part of me desperately craved their forgiveness.

A contradictory longing, born from loss and guilt, had consumed me back then.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, Ariel…”

“Brother…”

I clutched at my hair, my body wracked with sobs.

Tears streamed down my face, splashing onto the cold stone beneath my feet.

Ariel, seeing my despair, threw her arms around me, her own tears flowing freely.

“It’s okay, Brother. It’s going to be okay…”

“Ugh… I’m sorry, sob… I’m sorry…”

“No one hates you, hic… No one. So, we’re… We’re going to be okay.”

We were like wounded animals, comforting each other after losing our mother.

Standing there under the night sky, tending to the wounds that ran too deep for our hands to reach.

Wounds that had festered and rotted within our hearts.

“We’re going to be okay. So… Let’s stop torturing ourselves, Brother.”

Even if it meant carrying this burden for the rest of our lives.

Even if the sight of the night sky brought nothing but shame and the whisper of the wind through the trees sounded like a mournful cry.

We had to live.

With hearts that sang of stars.

With a love for all things that were fading away.

We had to love and cherish each other.

For the sake of the crimson-haired girl who would be waiting at the end of my path.

I had to live.

I had to face my demons head-on.

“Let’s be strong, Brother. So that when we see Mom again, she won’t be sad.”

“Yes…”

“Promise me.”

On that starlit, windswept night,

In the heart of winter, we linked our pinkies.

A silent vow, as pure and fragile as a snowflake.

One day, we would deliver a letter, carefully folded and filled with our love, to a land where snow never fell, a land where she resided.

And until that day, we would carry her memory in our hearts, a beacon guiding us through the darkness.

And so, the winter night passed.