My stepmother's burden is my ex-girlfriend.

Page 171

I went down a few steps and looked up at the woman's face from a lower position.

"...Since when have you become so good at dealing with people?"

"what?"

"What I mean is, I don't remember you speaking so sensibly..."

Only after I finished speaking did I realize that I had said too much.

I awkwardly looked away... Oh well, that's enough. I think I'd better leave quickly. I took another step down...

"Do you think I was better before?"

"Huh?"

I turned to look at her again.

Jie looked down at me with a stiff expression that seemed to carry a hint of anger.

"I'm asking you if you preferred the old me who was weak and unreliable."

I paused for a moment and then said:

"...Maybe. So what?"

"You'd better just drown in your memories. But then again—"

Jie smiled and continued:

"Only I, right now, can listen to your troubles?"

"……trouble?"

"You look so insecure. You're just like me when I gave you love letters back then."

Back then, you were indeed as vulnerable and helpless as a puppy soaked in the rain, but...

"...Don't exaggerate. My situation isn't as serious as yours, and I'm not bothered by it."

"So what's wrong with you?"

"I just..."

"only?"

"...I'm a little worried that some forgetful woman may have already forgotten the agreement she made."

"what?"

She blinked. See? She really didn't remember—

"Are you saying you're going to show it to me?"

"what?"

"A novel! Why didn't you tell me sooner! I've already dug out my own!"

"...So you still remember?"

"Need I say more? You should know my memory is pretty good, right?"

My mind went blank for a moment. To fill that blank, I began to say:

"...You do often remember unnecessary things."

"What do you mean by 'unnecessary'?!"

"For example, I don't know what influenced me, but for a fleeting moment I referred to myself as 'this humble scholar'—"

"Ah──ah──ah──! I forgot, I forgot, I forgot!"

After she covered her ears and screamed, she said:

"...No, that's not right. Come to think of it, you're the one who remembers a bunch of unnecessary things."

"……real."

Absolutely unnecessary. Really, absolutely no need.

These memories from immature, undifferentiated, and confused periods are all superfluous.

"Then... come to my room after you've finished showering."

"Isn't it forbidden to enter at night?"

"Tonight is an exception."

While peeking at the situation downstairs, Jie Nu whispered:

"(Don't let Mom and the others find out, okay?)"

Damn it.

My heart—you always beat unnecessarily like this.

Later, I read the novels that Jie Nu had written before.

A detective who seems like a knock-off version of Sohei Saikawa spouts seemingly profound but ultimately meaningless lines while launching into lengthy, exaggerated arguments about a ridiculously stupid locked-room mystery.

"Hilarious!"

"Don't laugh at me with such a serious face!"

"Didn't you say last time that this novel plagiarized Christy? I think it's more like Mori Hiroshi."

"...because..."

"because?"

"This...this was written in junior high...I couldn't find the one from elementary school..."

"Oh... I don't want to believe it, but this self-righteous talk makes it seem like Saikawa Sohei is reduced to just one percent of the detective role..."

You're not going to tell me you used your boyfriend at the time as a model, are you?

"........."

Hey, don't turn your face away.

"...You're so smug, like you've got something on me. But yours isn't much better!"

"Huh? Give me a break. This is much better than this one, isn't it?"

"The monologue was long and tedious, and the metaphors, though intended to be clever, were ultimately ineffective. What does 'like overcooked curry' mean? Does it mean it's burnt and tastes bitter?"

"How can your reading comprehension be so poor! It means—"

I explained it to her patiently and kindly for a long time, but I still couldn't get her to understand, which was quite a blow to me. I never imagined that my writing would be so difficult for others to comprehend...

After we gave each other's work a thorough critique, a hollow silence filled the room.

This period of time, like peeking into old wounds, allowed me to slowly regain my composure. Then I reread my novel with Jie Nu and made a discovery.

"...That guy in the east end is pretty formidable."

"Huh? Dongtou classmate?...Is she writing a novel?"

"It seems he also writes novels, but what I see are illustrations. They're not copies or tracings; he thinks about everything from the composition onwards. And the faces, bodies, hands, and feet of the characters in the illustrations look very natural at first glance—don't you think that being able to create something that others find 'remarkable' is already a kind of talent? Reading these two novels gave me that realization."

"Indeed... from this point of view, your great-grandfather's autobiography is actually very well written."

"Really. At least you can understand what it says."

"That's right..."

We both became disheartened.

Although it was a huge blow, it also boosted her self-confidence in another sense. Showing this to Dongtou might have some therapeutic effect on her humble personality.

In a relaxed atmosphere devoid of tension, Jie said casually:

"...Let me ask you something. Would you like to become a writer?"

"I don't want to. Maybe there was a period when I did think about it."

There is nothing in my heart worth writing about.

There was no surge of desire or sense of mission.

All I felt was anxiety about not being this anxious, but no image to pursue.

He's just an empty person.

This idea became even stronger after I tried writing a novel...

"...There's something I've rarely talked to you about, from the past until now."

"Um?"

"Actually, my dad used to be a creator."

I slowly looked at the girl.

The woman leaned against the side of the bed, hugged her knees, and rested her chin on them.

"Your father, your biological father... Aunt Yu-ren's ex-husband, right? Is he a writer?"

"I don't write novels, but... it seems I work in some kind of creative field. I just don't have any works like that at home, so I don't know what my writing is about..."

"Your interest, it couldn't possibly be related to...?"

"Yes, you guessed right. It started with my dad's bookshelf."

Jie Nu still rested her chin on her knees and began to speak haltingly.

"Regarding my father, I only vaguely remember hearing his voice while lying in bed... I would lie in bed, half asleep and half awake, and hear a deep voice say, 'I'm home.' It came from the slightly lit living room... My mother would answer, 'You're home.' Then my mother would say, 'Have you eaten?' And the deep voice would say, 'I bought some.'"

"...Didn't you say you 'already ate'?"

"Yes, it was 'bought back'. Then, there was the rustling sound of plastic bags being turned over. Amidst that sound, Mom would say with a hint of regret, 'Oh, I see…' That's almost all I remember about Dad. The next morning, Dad was never home. So now, I can't even remember what he looks like. Even if I saw him, I probably wouldn't recognize him."

"I don't know what to say..."

I can imagine that her father must be very busy with work.

…However, I felt even more strongly that…his behavior suggested a refusal to integrate into the family. Despite living with his family, he acted like someone living alone…there was a clear sense of rejection—or rather, a sense of alienation. I must say, I sensed a mindset of using a partition to clearly define the family space.

"Just like you never had a mother in the first place, that's normal for me too. Besides, he would still come to watch the sports meet and stuff... But now that I think about it, it was probably his mother who forced him to come."

There must have been some struggle involved.

Aunt Yu-ren must have resisted this situation as well. But in the end, she couldn't bring her husband into the "family." Therefore, she had to make a painful decision. For herself, for her daughter, or—for her husband's sake.

"My mother must have had a lot of work to do back then, but I didn't really dislike my father."

"That's because... you never even get a chance to see him, so you can't possibly dislike him."

"Not really... For example, if no one is home often, but there's a room full of all sorts of things, wouldn't a child be very excited? They could go treasure hunting to their heart's content."

"Too……"

I can understand that feeling.

I still clearly remember the surge of enthusiasm that welled up deep in my heart when I first discovered my great-grandfather's study.

"Aren't kids easily drawn to people who give them toys? So, personally, I'm very grateful to him for giving me such a fun room."

It seems... this really happens often. Everyone has had similar experiences.

"...Uh—what were we talking about?"

"We're saying we don't have that kind of talent."

"Oh, right, right. Sorry I digress, but what I wanted to say was... how should I put it? I feel that those creators see things differently from us. In that sense, don't you think Dongtou feels that way?"

"...That's true..."

That's true. That guy sees things differently from others.

Although we get along very well and have no disagreements... I sometimes have this feeling that there's some kind of class difference between us.

"I don't know how to describe that feeling... This time too, I feel like I don't actually fully understand what Dongtou is seeing."

"Then go find out. Because no one else but you can do it."

"You don't understand either?"

"Well... thinking about it carefully, it seems like I've been pursuing that all along."