Tensei Oujo wa Kyou mo Hata o Tatakioru

The dream of a reincarnated princess. (2)

…………

Plump red lips stop trying to spin words.

Words that nearly fell from his lips eventually disappeared into the back of his throat without sound.

Mother does not move from around the entrance, as if she had been stopped from sewing her legs.

My father is watching things quietly, and I don't know what to say to him with me. An awkward silence fell indoors.

Mother, standing still on her knees, had the feeling that she was going to disappear into the darkness of night as it was.

If you watch, you're sure to disappear one day.

Nothing to talk about and leave no trace of it. When I wake up tomorrow morning, I'll disappear from my memory, too.

That's fine, just get back to your usual routine.

I think so, but I can't keep my eyes shut. I'm just a little scared for some reason that I'm going to end up being an illusion.

But I don't even know exactly what to do, I just move my body like a bad scratch.

If you try to wake up your body with your hands on it, Kakun and his arm will lose their strength. I fell as-is.

"Ah."

"Rose!"

Mother reaches out to me as I almost fall out of bed.

But my mother, who was at the entrance, could not have made it, and I closed my eyes ready for the shock.

……

After all this time, the pain hasn't come.

When I opened my fearful eyes, there was a beautiful face of my father at close range.

"What are you doing"

Apparently my father hugged my body and finally caught me gorgeously from my forehead to the cloth that fell off. Pochan fell in the sink as his daddy, shrugged as he threw the cloth cluttered. Nice control, Father.

The mother, who looked over her father's shoulder, remained solidified with her hands extended.

When you look at me, the harsh look loosens. The force also fell out of his fingertips, and the hand he was raising went down loose.

"As long as you're sick, keep him company."

The bitterly murmured father lowers me on the bed holding me up.

Tough tones are gentle on the back of your back and you don't know what to do.

As I wandered my gaze as I was hung by a futon, my mother and I met each other again. But this time, they'll stray right away.

My mother, who cares about her back, is going to get away with it.

"... Oh, my God."

When I call it in a small voice, my mother's shoulders shake.

I haven't heard back from you for long.

It was his father who broke the silence with a brief sigh.

"I'm calling you."

Quiet voices do not include the colour of blame or the intention of forgiveness. My mother took a step forward when she was pushed back by a voice trying to just give her the facts.

Slowly, one step, another.

My approaching mother comes to my pillow and stops.

I'll leave you to it.

Father with the book, saying so, gets up from the chair.

"Father."

Even if I'm left alone with my mother, I don't know what to tell her. When I call him by accident, my father snarls his nose with hun.

My hands are reaching out and I can stir my hair together.

"Just fix it."

Miscellaneously stroked my head before my father left the room.

All that was left was me, the blushing head, and my standing mother.

More than just now, the silence is awkward.

Trouble was, I almost opened my mouth to have you sit down.

"Or... eh"

Instead of voices, hiccups, and plundered sounds. Coughing as it was without overcoming the urge like something stuck in the back of his throat, he complained of dull sores in the back of his throat and chest.

He put in a strange way because he tried to put up with the cough for a moment.

The sight seeped with tears in her breathlessness reflected the face of her faded mother.

"... or...?

With her hands halfway open, Mother stands up. Looking around, she looked like a werewolf.

"Ku, medicine? No, you should call a doctor. Wait a minute!

"Eh."

When I say it, my mother takes a small run to the entrance.

Probably at midnight, but are you willing to wake up the samurai doctor? Even though it's just a cold.

"Or, kaasa! Wait!"

My mother rushes over with a blue face as she tries to wake up her body.

"Hey, why are you trying to wake up! You won't have to lay down properly!

"No, you know, upp!?"

The futon was pulled up over my face and I groaned unexpectedly.

"I don't need a doctor or medicine. I just coughed a little, so I'm fine."

When she manages to show her face and complain that the doctor doesn't want it, her mother lowers her brow like she's in trouble.

"It looks so painful, it shouldn't be okay!?"

"It's just a cold, so it'll heal if you're at rest. Oh, I want to chill my head, so can I have the cloth squeezed?

The doctor's sleep is on my hands, apparently.

I thought if I gave him something to work on, he would make me grow up, and I pointed to the washer.

"Is this it? Okay."

Mother's interest has shifted to you, so exhale relief.

I lay my eyes down and took a breath, and then I became anxious to see my mother.

'Please squeeze it properly,' he tried to be careful, almost at the same time as a squeezy sweet cloth was placed on his forehead.

Yeah, cold. It's a surprise.

"And then what? I wonder what else to do?

A warm laugh creeps up at my impatient mother.

When I said I wanted some water, I could have predicted further misery.

"Nothing. I don't need anything later."

"... eh"

Answering in a quiet voice, Mother gives a small surprise voice.

Confused voices were unreliable like children left behind.

I think it's cunning. You can't be made to look like that and throw it away.

Laughing loosely at the snares, reaching out.

"I don't need anything,... stay by my side"

"Huh..."

My mother, confused, touches my hand. Slowly wrapped with both hands, the mother sat down in the chair where her father had sat until earlier.

I didn't feel awkward this time about the silence that fell again.

"..."

"Huh?"

Without being able to pick up the little whine, listen back.

"You've grown up," my mother told me to separate word for word, gripping to make sure my hand was shaped.

When I look up with my eyes round, my gaze meets each other. My mother laughs bitterly at herself.

"Now you're not saying?

I blink with patsy.

My mother apparently was prepared to blame me.

Now...... sure, not that I don't think so now. But there was more confusion than that.

"... my mother didn't think I was interested."

When I honestly reveal my mood, my mother's well-shaped eyebrows drop. I lowered my eyes and then zeroed my exhale.

"It's natural to think so. I didn't do anything for you or Johan. … I ran away from you."

"Running away?

Repeating the words, Mother nods.

"That's right. I thought I'd get away from myself if they didn't like me."

Though my mother's words were unimaginable, I was not willing to doubt them.

"You're on your own, aren't you? 'Cause there seemed to be no lies in my sadly laughing eyes. He listened in silence to the solitary words that were pounding and spinning.

Fragmented words are like missing pieces of jigsaw puzzle, and I don't see the overall picture in combination. But somehow only the contours convey.

What I found out was that my mother was a very clumsy person.

Lock me and Johan in the room, trying desperately to turn my father around. I thought that would help my family. I believed that something in such a distorted shape was my family. Because I don't know the real thing.

I guess I defied my mother and finally realized there was no one left on hand.

The family I desperately tried to gather, even though there were no more shards left.

Johann studied abroad and I went on a journey. I wonder what my mother had in mind in her room alone.

"I was fine without you.... I was fine."

The cucumber, the power caged in my mother's hand.

Faced with a slight pain, I breathe there.

My mother's face was crooked. The look on your face like you're enjoying crying is terribly distorted. And yet for some reason, as beautiful as I lost my word, I was just pretty on the pipe.

I never thought I'd see you again.

"... Oh, my God."

"I didn't know there was anything more scary than being hated and hated. Looks really stupid. It's like a lousy, vulgar play to lose it and realize it for the first time."

With surprise, my father's words come to mind.

"Is that how you die before your parents do?"

That's what I said, my father's face too.

"Don't go out of sight because you don't like it or anything."

On my wrapped hand, my mother's hand, pressed against my forehead, is shaking small.

Biting my mother's expression and father's words, Ston and one conclusion fell in me.

Oh, me - I was properly loved.

Clumsy, hard to understand people, but they were putting proper love into it.

I was so, so happy that I was about to cry.

"Mother"

When I call, my moist blue eyes are directed to ask.

"Until you fall asleep, will you hold my hand...?