Miss, It’s Just a Cold

Chapter 53: Only Now

There was no one inside the mansion.

If I borrowed my mother’s words, she’d say that commoners aren’t “people,” so technically, there was “no one” here.

The only one who ran up to me with a bright smile, shouting “Miss!” was Rin.

The child clung to my side, chattering away about this and that, but nothing she said was of any interest to me.

I nodded here and there for about five minutes before letting her words drift past me.

My body was already clean, and I didn’t have any particular injuries.

But there was still this lingering sense of incompleteness, a jittery restlessness, and an odd burning sensation in my throat.

So, I decided to head to my room.

No one had touched my room — not even to clean it. The dust on my desk had piled up like snow.

I pulled out a packet of painkillers from the dusty desk drawer and swallowed one without water.

A little while later, the pain began to subside.

For some reason, I wanted to clean the room.

It was already a small room, and with all this dust, the air felt suffocating.

Maybe it was because I’d just spent so much time in the high-quality room Aria had provided me.

When I shook out the blanket, a cloud of dust rose into the air.

I coughed for a while and tried to open the window…

But the window was still locked.

I pulled out the pistol from my waistband and smashed the lock with the handle.

At first, it didn’t budge.

But after a few solid hits, it started to break.

It wasn’t a steel lock, just a cheap, flimsy one. With a loud clang, it fell off.

The window frame had taken a bit of damage, and a small crack had formed in the glass, but it didn’t shatter.

That much was good enough for me.

For a moment, I thought about smashing the whole window, but since it was already open, there was no need.

When I opened the drawer, I saw the torn-up papers I had thrown on the floor.

The dried bloodstains on them had gone from brown to nearly black.

They were stacked together along with a fresh notebook that my father had given me.

I picked up a pen and held it for a long time.

Out of nowhere, I felt like I could hear Emily’s voice in my head, so I threw the pen aside.

A strange sense of disgust washed over me.

Not disgust toward murder, but toward the idea of killing “family.”

Does Emily still consider those people her family?

Or, if this is all just some mental illness, does that mean I still consider them family?

I didn’t want to keep pondering it.

I didn’t want to keep saying, “I don’t know.”

I couldn’t just keep not knowing forever.

Once everything is done, I have to tell myself that none of it can hold me down anymore.

Only then will I be able to believe it’s really over.

To truly say goodbye to all the nightmares and despair, I need to make a decision.

A decision with no room for regret.

The only one who should be feeling regret is my mother — for not dropping me on my head and killing me the moment I was born.

After some time, I heard the front door open.

The hinges must have been old because I could hear the faint creak of it from all the way up here.

Someone had arrived.

But it didn’t bother me much.

Maybe it was because I had the window open and the fresh air was flowing in.

I had placed the pistol on my bed earlier, but that was careless of me.

I slid it back into my waistband and covered it with my loose top.

This stupid, cumbersome outfit…

I used to hate it. I really hated it.

But now I’m starting to think the whole point of this outfit was to let me hide things inside it.

Even with a pistol tucked in, it didn’t show at all.

Not that it felt great having cold steel pressed against bare skin.

“…Why is this door closed—”

“Long time no see, Fabian.”

“Ah… oh, uh, when did you get back?”

“Let’s see, maybe two hours ago?”

Fabian’s mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air.

“Why are you just standing there like that?”

“Are you… feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I walked back all on my own.

The gracious Lady of House Eisenach even sent a proper doctor to check on me.”

“…That’s good to hear.”

“Sure is.”

Our conversation fizzled out.

Or maybe there was something he wanted to say but couldn’t bring himself to.

He just stood there, fidgeting, his lips pressed together, his hands curling and uncurling.

He shifted his feet, glanced around, closed his eyes, then opened them again.

Finally, Fabian spoke.

“While you were gone… Mother…”

“What? Did she finally pick someone for me?”

It was obvious.

I’d figured this would happen.

The guy she picked would probably be some pot-bellied pig of a man.

A commoner, arrogant, uneducated, with nothing but bad rumors surrounding him.

That kind of thing was always so predictable.

There’s no such thing as a rich, good-looking commoner with a bad reputation that no one dares approach — not like in those romance novels.

Guys like that only show up around Aria.

The only things that show up around me are garbage family, a garbage world… and me.

…Right.

I’m not in any position to criticize others.

If I’m trash, then it makes sense that I’m surrounded by it too.

I guess I’m like one of those idiots who never cleans their room but still whines about how dirty it is.

No, it’s not just that.

It’s because I’m trash.

Everything is my fault.

Everything went wrong because I was born.

…But so what?

I’ll just have to endure it.

And if I can endure it, I’ll overcome it.

I’ve already prepared for it.

Not that there’s much to prepare.

I’ve got a magic wand right here in my hand.

A single pull of the trigger, and it’ll all be solved.

All I have to do is take a deep breath, stop pacing around, and wipe away my nightmares.

Fabian fidgeted, looking uncomfortable.

He kept muttering that this was too much, and for once, he even criticized Mother.

It wasn’t much, but it made me feel a little better.

Normally, he’s a jerk, but it was nice to hear him say something like that.

It made me feel like I could offer him a tiny bit of consideration in return.

Is he my brother?

Honestly, I’m not sure.

He’s never acted like a brother, and I’ve never played the role of a younger sister.

When we were kids, Fabian always had a bit of an inferiority complex toward me.

I wasn’t Emily. I was someone brilliant.

But in the end, I became Emily.

That’s what this family, and maybe even this whole world, wanted me to be.

They all desperately wanted me to become a fool.

But I endured.

I held out.

So can’t I be a little happy now?

“Hey, Fabian.”

“If I can stop it somehow, you should just go next door and beg that friend of yours to propose.

Otherwise, you’ll have no options left. Sneak out at night and roll around with him if you have to—”

I ignored Fabian’s rambling and spoke quietly.

“During dinner tonight, why don’t you stay out of the way?”

“That’s…”

Who said this before? I can’t quite remember.

In any case, Fabian shook his head.

One of the many bullets I have will probably end up lodged in his arm or leg.

If he’s unlucky, he’ll die. If he’s lucky, he’ll live.

Since I had the misfortune of being born here, I figure the people living in this mansion deserve to experience some misfortune too.

“Why are you…?”

“Just because.

If you say you don’t want to, Mother might start raising her voice.”

“I’m the eldest son. How am I supposed to avoid it?”

“True. You’ve got a point.

Then just sit still.

If things go south, you can always just die, right?”

Fabian, probably not knowing how to respond, ignored my words and gave me the information I needed.

“…Everyone went to the lake to play, so they’ll be back around dinner.”

Perfect.

He stared at me for a long moment before finally leaving the room.

His footsteps echoed through the house as the old wooden floorboards creaked slowly.

Was it hard to lift his feet with each step?

With a shake of his head, he was gone.

Once Fabian was out of sight, I pulled the gun from my waistband.

I opened the chamber, lightly tapped one of the bullets with my finger, then loaded it back in and cocked the hammer.

After a moment’s hesitation, I placed the barrel into my mouth.

Is this how you’re supposed to do it?

…No, even if I pull the trigger from this angle, I don’t think I’ll die instantly.

I pressed the muzzle against my palate, feeling the cold steel scrape against it as I tried to figure out the best angle.

Not that I was actually planning to pull the trigger.

But, still, I realized I probably wouldn’t be able to do it.

If someone else pointed a gun at my head, I’d have no choice but to accept it.

But doing it to myself?

I don’t think I could.

I closed my eyes and pulled the barrel out of my mouth.

The saliva smeared on the gun looked gross, so I wiped it off with my clothes before tucking the gun back into my waistband.

Then, I just sat there, staring blankly ahead.

I sat there, blaming myself for being a person who couldn’t even kill themselves properly.

Time passed by faster than I expected.

Then again, sitting blankly on a bed passes the time much quicker than screaming for help while locked in a wardrobe.

“It’s over.”

Evening had come.

I heard the sound of the front door opening.

The cheerful voices of people returning from their outing echoed through the house.

Ellie, Daniel, Father, Mother — all of them chatting away noisily.

Blah, blah, blah. This and that.

I wasn’t even curious, yet I could hear every word of their pointless conversation from here.

“Yeah. Everything. All of it.

Only now.”

I pressed my hands together in a silent prayer.

Not to the sky.

Not to a god.

Just a simple, quiet wish.

Because, in the end, the one who will make it happen is me.