I'd always been able to count everything in my room on the fingers of both hands. Two books whose titles I couldn't even read, a few pieces of clothing, and… that was pretty much it.
If someone ever tried to rob us, the only thing I'd truly worry about would be the bed. I'd probably even fight for it. Not that I could stand up to a newborn kitten, but I'd try… maybe.
At first I didn't notice, but now my room had more stuff. More books. More clothes. A few accessories that definitely weren't mine.
And I wasn't alone in here anymore.
It was amazing how just one person could fill my empty cardboard box of a room with her things. And that new fullness made me think: just how indifferent had I been to material possessions if a girl from an orphanage had more than me?
It looked like she was planning to stay forever. Turns out it was only for a month.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, my mind was flooded with the most mundane memories.
The day Mom bought me a dress for the first time and was shocked when I refused it with primitive grunting sounds. Dad, as usual, tried to turn everything against me. Only Euriel acted normal.
The day I learned to speak using made-up words while my parents nervously peeked at me from behind the door.
All of Dad's jokes that almost drove me into hysterics, but the heroes always showed up at the last second to punish the villain, just like they're supposed to.
My first walk outside. Sure, it ended with both Mom and me in tears, but I think it only made us closer.
So my past, like my belongings, easily fit on my fingertips. Though when you think about it… I hadn't lived that long.
More importantly (and this might sound selfish), every single one of their gazes had been focused only on me. In a way, I felt special. And now…
How would our life change with one more variable added to the equation?
No, it was already changing.
It really felt like the old me and the current me were completely different people. Like this was that weird in-between season, not quite winter, not yet spring. While the rest of the world was still frozen, something inside me had already begun to sprout.
Does that mean my real life only started after Luisa showed up?
…No, I'd rather not think that.
Luisa was still asleep, and the window was shut. Even though someone must have aired the room during the two days I was unconscious, the air already felt thick with dust, like no one had lived here for ages.
Luisa rubbed her eyes, mumbled something incoherent as if she were about to wake up… and fell right back asleep. Her hair was a wild mess, spreading across the pillow like a jellyfish. Watching her made me a little jealous. I used to sleep through the entire night and half the day, but now…
Hair in my mouth, getting kicked, or hugged so tight I wake up just to pass out again. It's honestly surprising I managed to sleep peacefully next to her for almost two whole days. In that light, losing consciousness doesn't seem so scary.
While I was lost in those thoughts, Luisa woke up. Her half-lidded eyes turned toward me.
Was she confused about why I was sitting next to her? My body tensed. Before I could force even a smile, she wrapped her arms around my waist, stretched, and buried her face in my back.
"Mmm…"
Her sleepy "mmm" vibrated lightly down my spine; I flinched involuntarily.
"Mmm?"
There was nothing supernatural about it, yet my heart was pounding like crazy. I was completely thrown off, both by what she did and by how I reacted. Why did these harmless hugs make me feel so awkward?
"Too… early…" she drawled.
"Early?" I echoed.
My cheeks were practically on fire, like my face was hovering right over a campfire.
"Sleep," she said, forcing out each word like it weighed a ton.
"Sleep?" I repeated, trying with all my might to sound calm.
"Sleep."
She tugged me down. I flopped straight onto the pillow, and her head settled on my chest. She wriggled a bit to get comfortable, then went still.
For some reason her head felt twice as heavy now. The heat kept spreading, as if I myself was turning into that campfire.
Winter hadn't gone anywhere, yet I could feel cold beads of sweat on my skin. Not from warmth, though. From nerves. Cold sweat, because my body couldn't decide whether to freeze or burn.
"You're gonna sleep like this?"
"Mmm… comfy… soft…" she whispered.
Depending on whether she saw me as a pillow or just fat, the meaning changed drastically. I didn't particularly like either option. I wanted to say something, but honestly, nothing came to mind.
"Um, you know… I'm already awake and…"
"Mhm, me too."
Sure enough, when she turned her face toward me, her eyes were open.
Maybe she just needed warmth?
They say childhood is the best time of your life. You can stand on your head, do stupid things, cross other people's boundaries, and for some reason nobody minds. Like at that age you're allowed to live without looking back.
If that's true… then why did I feel so cramped?
If Luisa stayed here forever, it'd be great if Santa left another bed under the tree. Though I suspect I'd still wake up as her pillow.
Hmm… Santa? Who's that? For some reason I picture a kind old grandpa who gives presents to everyone.
I doubt such an impossibly kind old man actually exists.
And yet…
"In a month you'll go back to the orphanage, right?"
Somehow I'd managed to slide into a completely different topic. Luisa rubbed her cheek against my pajamas; the skin underneath prickled a little.
"Why?"
"Well…"
Good question: why? It had just felt like a natural conclusion, one that suddenly stopped making sense.
"If my parents aren't your parents, then…"
"I'm… Uncle Euriel's adopted daughter."
"Euriel? Where is he, then?"
I could easily imagine my dad casually handing me off to someone "for a while" with that goofy half-apologetic grin. In his case it would sound plausible.
But Euriel? He never struck me as the type to casually shrug off responsibility.
"Already tired of me, huh?"
Instead of answering she cracked a joke and closed her eyes again. Her head was still resting on my chest; it was easy to tell she was comfortable. And me? Was I comfortable?
The anxiety slowly ebbed away, and the heat subsided. In a way… being this close to her was nice. Not too much, but still.
I wanted to ask her so many things. Where her real parents were. Why Euriel had taken responsibility for her. Though, to be honest, the last question wasn't really for her.
"…Let's not," I answered myself.
You could've thought we were both just being polite, trying not to push each other. But that wasn't it. Neither of us actually wanted to take the real first step.
No, there's no need to worry about it. Let everything go at its own pace… maybe we'll figure it out ourselves when the time comes.
Dropping the pointless thoughts, I closed my eyes right after Luisa. My breathing evened out, and I almost stopped feeling the weight of her head. Only the tips of her hair occasionally tickled my neck, but I didn't move.
And then…
Hrrr…
.
When I woke up, the sunlight was way too bright. Bright enough to tell me morning had ended long ago. I didn't know the exact time, but for some reason it felt like the perfect moment to wake up.
Luisa was still asleep. At first it had been nice lying next to her… but now my shoulders were stiff, and my chest felt heavy—like a small but incredibly stubborn rock was pressing down on me.
I tried to breathe in, but instead of air my lungs filled with the scent of her hair. Fresh, with a faint hint of damp greenery—like summer grass after summer rain. It suited the color of her hair perfectly.
I'd only just woken up, yet it already felt like I was dreaming again… somewhere in a meadow deep in the woods.
But this was reality. We really were living together, sleeping together… even closer than I would've liked.
Soon her quiet little snores joined my breathing. The more awake I felt, the deeper Luisa seemed to sink into sleep. Her hair lay across her ear, rising and falling gently with each breath. I don't know why, but something about it made my chest tighten.
Though if I think about it, the reason was obvious: Luisa was lying there. And pretty heavily.
If Luisa had a plushie, would she hug that instead of me? I could easily picture her clutching some seal doll, and in the next confusing situation I'd be stared at by two pairs of eyes: hers and the seal's.
Imagining it, I couldn't help but laugh. Luisa stirred. When her head lifted, most of her hair hung over her face, and her two sleepy emerald eyes looked almost like toy buttons—which only made me laugh harder.
Luisa tilted her head. Her eyes gradually widened, like the sun rising over the horizon. She looked so utterly confused that I couldn't stop. My stomach already hurt, as if I'd spent the whole day doing ridiculous exercises.
What would you think if you woke up to someone beside you choking with laughter, and the moment you opened your eyes they laughed even louder? The logical conclusion would be that someone drew something stupid on your face. But… I didn't even have the chance. Maybe that's why I could almost see the gears turning in her head, desperately trying to figure out what was going on.
"You two seem to be having fun. Oh… or did I interrupt?"
Dad's words hit my ears and I hiccupped, as if swallowing the rest of my laughter.
How long had he been there?
His face was practically pressed against mine. He was leaning on the edge of the bed, chin resting on interlaced fingers, eyes narrowed like he'd just caught me doing something shady.
"I… well… ha-ha…" I tried not to meet his gaze, but he was too close to hide.
Dad showing up was already bad enough. Catching us in such a compromising position and asking that question? It was a one-two punch. Before I could recover from the first, the second landed.
And there I was, trapped between them. Luisa pinning me from above, Dad looming in front of me.
If before it only felt like I was cornered, now I was literally squashed into the corner.
"Good morning…"
Before I could come up with a clever comeback, Luisa chimed in. She didn't seem embarrassed at all by Dad's sudden appearance, let alone my laughing fit.
Luisa's face was still sleepy as she rubbed her eyes and yawned.
There was something heavy about her whole look. Every now and then she'd nod off, her chin brushing my chest, like she was struggling against gravity. Her hair looked more like a bird's nest… though I wasn't sure I looked any better.
When Luisa finally got off me and sat on the edge of the bed, legs dangling, a flood of air rushed into my lungs—like I'd just surfaced from underwater. She and Dad exchanged a few words, but I only caught the sound, not the meaning. My head was ringing from the sudden relief.
After a series of short breaths, the air entering my mouth tasted slightly different. I stretched, then rolled onto my side. My gaze landed on Luisa's and Dad's backs. They were chatting casually, completely ignoring my existence.
It was like every trace of Luisa's earlier confusion had vanished.
Was she really that unfazed by what just happened? Or… was she trying to save me?
In moments like these I especially felt how little I actually knew about Luisa. And for some reason… that upset me. Like no matter what happened between us, deep down there was still an empty space, a thin crack we couldn't cross.
My stomach growled, but in the commotion of their conversation no one seemed to hear. Food would probably help, but it also made me sleepy. Even if I woke up around noon, a couple of hours later I'd already be half-asleep again.
Funny… or weird. Probably both.
Either way, it was time for lunch. Or maybe still breakfast? I couldn't tell.
I rolled onto my back. Trying to lift myself off the pillow, I could literally hear my muscles creaking. My neck rose. Then my shoulders. My back lifted off the bed… just a tiny bit.
My neck hurt. My shoulders shook. My poor stomach was left to handle everything alone.
And…
I gave up.
Looks like I'm still the same, ridiculously weak and terribly slow to change. Maybe that's for the best… if you change slowly, no one will even notice you're trying to become someone better.
That was the conclusion I reached while helplessly staring at the ceiling, trying to catch my breath.
Rolling back onto my side, I propped myself up on an elbow. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I tried to tame my hair with my fingers, but it stubbornly stuck out in every direction.
"Whatever," I thought, giving up.
Now that Luisa and the blanket weren't on me anymore, the room was getting colder by the second. The chilly air quickly slipped under my skin, hinting that it was time to either get up or crawl back under the covers.
Tough choice.
"Where's Mom?" I asked, trying to free one finger from a tangled strand.
Dad turned to me, and a suspiciously wide grin spread across his face.
"She went shopping. So…" He straightened up, hands proudly on hips. "I'm in charge."
"Oh no…"
The sunlight pouring through the window seemed to weigh down my shoulders. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say I had very few pleasant memories of spending time alone with Dad.
If Mom's gone and Euriel's who-knows-where, then…
I flopped back onto the bed, turning away from Dad and Luisa, and pulled the blanket up to my ears.
"Sweet… day."
"No-no-no, that won't do."
Before I could even close my eyes, his hand slid under my ribs, pressing the pajama fabric into my skin. He scooped me up so suddenly the air was knocked out of my lungs. He trapped me between his forearm and chest like a rolled-up package, my arms and legs dangling helplessly dangling in the air.
"Breakfast first, girls later," Dad chuckled, throwing only a sideways glance at my puffed-up cheeks before nodding toward Luisa, as if formally inviting her to the meal.
One look was enough to tell I didn't find the situation funny in the slightest.
And… seriously? What girls? What was he even talking about?
"Let me go! I'm not a sack you can just carry around like this!"
I squirmed, feeling his grip occasionally squeeze my sides, but he didn't seem to notice.
"A sack?" He tapped his chin thoughtfully, eyes rolling to the ceiling. "No, sacks get carried on the shoulder. You're more like… a rug. Or maybe a blanket."
I twisted my face and spread my arms as far as I could in silent "Seriously? That's better?"
He mumbled something under his breath, then grabbed my ear and pinched it, like he was testing what material I was made of. That made me yelp and focus entirely on the stinging spot.
Apparently reaching no conclusion, he just shrugged and carried me to the bathroom as if nothing had happened, bouncing lightly with every step so I bounced with him.
.
The happiness I felt when that hellish breakfast finally ended was overshadowed by sheer exhaustion. Leaning my back against the headboard, I painfully realized that life without Mom was way too hard.
Unfortunately, she came back too late to stop Dad's teasing. And she looked completely drained from shopping.
I'd always known market trips were tiring, but this much?
When we left the kitchen, Mom was already sitting on the living-room couch, staring silently out the window. She only turned her head to look at us. Because of that, her hair fell over her face and she looked like a horror-movie character. Her lips moved lazily to greet us, and Dad actually paled.
I noticed Luisa's eyes narrow and her shoulders shake when she saw Dad's reaction. Like she was laughing on the inside.
Speaking of Luisa: at first she tried to distract him onto herself, but after a couple of words he felt free to switch back to tormenting me. He was like a playful puppy chasing a kid who's scared of dogs.
And Luisa… gradually withdrew into herself. As if her presence at the table was slowly being erased.
Something was probably bothering her, but I couldn't even guess what. I could barely understand my own feelings, let alone someone else's.
I wonder… did Mom's return make Luisa feel even a little better, the same way it did for me? I wanted to believe so.
While we were downstairs, the bed had turned cold. Given my current state, that was actually pleasant, so pleasant I was afraid I'd fall asleep before Luisa came back to the room.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath; the exhaustion melted away. I could barely feel my shoulders anymore. I was on the verge of turning into liquid. Or fusing with the bed, like it was some underground tentacle dragging me into its horribly cozy embrace.
That interpretation of the bed amused me, and I felt the corners of my mouth lift.
"Why are you smiling?"
"Gyah!"
Luisa's sudden voice, somewhere very close, made me almost jump. For a second it felt like my soul tried to stay buried in the mattress.
"And now you're screeching like an treepurr that fell out of a tree," she commented, taking a step back.
"W-where did you come from?!"
Luisa blinked a few times, then tilted her head.
"What do you mean?"
"Y-you were… in the bathroom."
"I came back ages ago."
Noticing my confusion, Luisa cautiously reached out and tried to stroke my head. She was putting way too much effort into it; clearly no experience. I could feel my already messy hair getting even messier.
"You were sleeping, I didn't want to wake you. But then you started smiling, so I thought you were pretending."
"I see…"
Apparently she had no idea when to stop; her palm kept stroking my head randomly. So vigorously that my neck gradually sank into my shoulders. In a way, I felt like I'd turned into a cat.
"So were you sleeping?"
Luisa's cheeks flushed, more from effort than embarrassment. She was petting so hard it looked like she was trying to blow on forge coals with sheer force.
"I'm… not even sure anymore…"
Looking at her, so earnest, I didn't know what to feel. Gratitude? Awkwardness? All of it at once?
"You can stop now. I'm fine. Thank you."
I gently caught her wrist and lowered her hand to my lap.
I thought she'd pull away… but instead she added the second hand, resting both on my knees. Was there ever a moment when touching each other's touch felt awkward?
Remembering how I woke up today, and yesterday too, it became clear: with Luisa that concept simply didn't exist. Not to mention the helion incident. She could be surprisingly shameless.
Probably, in terms of looks and personality, we were just built differently. Finding something I could be that free about might prove quite the challenge.
We sat like that for a few moments: me trying to sort out my thoughts, Luisa staring at me with the most serious face she could manage.
"Something wrong?" I asked.
"Um… remember…" She blinked, searching for words. "No, not like that.
You wanted me to teach you how to read.
If you still want to…"
Reading? When did I ask for that?
I tried to recall, but not even a random fragment surfaced. Obviously it happened during one of the moments that had evaporated from my memory.
I couldn't decide which would be worse: pretending I remembered, or admitting I didn't.
"Well, I…"
"It's okay if you don't remember," she shook her head. "So… do you want to?"
When she looked up at me, something inside clenched, like I'd sunk to the bottom of the ocean. The doubts still wriggling in me vanished without a trace.
Yes, I was weak-willed. And even if I tried really hard, I still wouldn't be able to say no to her.
"Of course," I nodded.
Luisa broke into a short, excited smile, the kind she always got when looking forward to something, and immediately dashed off. She ran to the shelf, stood on tiptoes, reached… couldn't quite get it.
Jumped once. Twice. On the third try she seemed to elbow something by the sound, but she grabbed the book.
It was burgundy, though the color had long faded at the edges, as if time had licked it away. The corners were dog-eared, the patterns on the cover worn smooth where fingers had touched most often. The spine was slightly cracked, like it had fallen off desks or beds countless times.
This wasn't just a book, it was a book that had been read a lot. And held even more.
"Here. Fairy tales," she said, shoving it almost into my nose so suddenly the letters swam. "My dad… taught me to read with this one," the last words slipped from her lips, barely audible.
The topic Luisa had brushed against so casually made me hesitate for a moment. I wasn't sure there'd ever be a better chance than right now to ask about her family.
And yet…
"Not now," I told myself.
I blinked a few times to clear my vision and carefully took the book from her hands. The once-stiff burgundy cover had gone soft, and the embossed letters were almost flush with the surface.
One glance was enough to know how much it meant to Luisa.
"So… what's it called?"
Luisa stared at me with a puzzled look, as if I hadn't asked for the title but about the object itself.
"…Fairy Tales."
Her answer was so obvious I instantly realized how stupid my question had sounded.
"Oh… right. Makes sense," I replied with a strained smile.
I lowered my eyes to the letters stamped on the cover. I ran a finger over one; it was so worn it looked more like a whimsical doodle. If I didn't know it was writing, I'd have thought it was a child's drawing.
"So… this is an 'F'?" I poked at the squiggle that most closely matched the shape I'd guessed.
Luisa leaned in, squinted, and shook her head.
"No. That's a 'A.' The 'F' is this one."
"Where?"
She pointed at a tiny tail barely poking out before another wavy line.
"Seriously? That's a letter?" I tilted my head even further. "It looks like the scribe sneezed."
"Scribe?" Luisa echoed after a short pause. Then she muttered quietly, "You say the weirdest things with such confidence… even though you don't know a single letter?"
"I listen a lot," I shrugged. "Probably."
Luisa let out the softest sigh. She took the book from me, climbed onto the bed, and settled beside me.
"You really are… strange sometimes."
It was almost a whisper, but I caught the gist. She was scolding me, wasn't she? And yet her voice was so warm that instead of feeling offended, I just smiled.
As it turned out, even with all my "talents," there were things I simply couldn't do. Like starting a conversation first.
While I got lost in the corridors of my thoughts again, Luisa opened the book and began reading aloud. Apparently she'd decided that "listen and repeat" was more effective than teaching me each letter separately.
Well… fair enough.
Watching her lips, so pretty and faintly pink, I felt something strange. For some reason, the image of her as the big sister guiding me into an unknown world suddenly felt… teasingly out of reach, even though it should've been natural.
I shook my head and leaned back against the headboard. Listening to her voice, I couldn't focus on the story at all. I'd never heard of the fairy-tale hero or the kingdom he lived in, nothing like that. And yet… the plot felt oddly familiar, as if I'd heard it dozens of times. Like dominoes: one good story appears, and everything else falls in the same pattern, just with different scenery.
But I don't remember anyone ever reading to me. It felt like my memories were wearing masks; mine, yet hard to recognize.
As I kept thinking about it, racking my brain, the world around me began to fade. The edges of my vision turned white.
"Tired?" Luisa asked, stopping her reading.
Even though I managed to hold back a yawn, my half-closed eyelids must have betrayed me. Like a little kid. No, wait… actually… never mind.
"Mhm."
"Well, today you learned one letter. Hopefully. One more month and you'll know the whole alphabet."
My eyes were closed, but I heard her laugh perfectly. Looks like she's overestimating me a little.
"Want to lie down already?"
"Mhm."
During this season the sun set earlier than usual, and outside it was already getting dark, as if the whole world was lit by a single forgotten garden lantern. Maybe that's why my internal clock was completely off and pulling me toward sleep.
The light pressing against my eyelids went out, and I slowly slid down to the pillow, curling up as if it were the softest thing in the world. Even if it wasn't. I stretched my arms, letting the air reach my fingertips, and rolled onto my side.
"Sorry I'm such a sleepyhead…" I mumbled.
Something pointy poked my hand, not enough to hurt, but enough to know it wasn't the book. Then her palm settled on my forearm.
"It's okay," I thought she touched my cheek, but it was only her breath. "I used to fall asleep all the time when Papa read to me."
"What was he like?"
It was an awkward question. And yet I asked it. I don't know if the timing was right, but right now I didn't care. Whatever the outcome, I didn't feel guilty. On the contrary, it felt like I'd done something important.
"He's still out there," she answered quietly. "I believe that."
At that exact moment I felt Luisa's hand squeeze mine, much tighter than usual. Was she angry? Very possible.
"What do you mean?"
Ignoring the warning signs, I kept asking. By now it was completely dark outside.
My eyes were open and had adjusted to the darkness, but I didn't dare look toward Luisa.
"He never said goodbye…" she said softly, letting go of my wrist. "'As long as the words of parting haven't been spoken, we'll definitely meet again,' he always said, so…"
The sadness in her voice didn't escape me. Luisa's trembling traveled through my body, and gradually it became hard to breathe. Like something invisible was pressing my lips together, I couldn't get a word out.
He never said goodbye, yet he left his daughter alone. You didn't need to be a genius to guess: he believed he'd come back… he just couldn't. And after that…
My guess could break Luisa completely. Even if I was wrong… the mere doubt would be enough to shatter her fragile hope.
I couldn't do that to her.
Then… what? What could I say to support her? "I'm here"? But… what would that change? Family and I filled different parts of her heart.
If I even had a place there at all.
I didn't want to admit it, but I was clumsy, awkward, and completely useless when it came to other people's feelings. I didn't know how to ask for support or how to give it, so I preferred to hide my own emotions.
Luisa was different. She didn't try to soften the blow. She let you know exactly what she felt.
And only one thing united us: our hearts were full of holes, like the surface of the moon. And we clung too carefully to anyone who could fill even a few of them.
Still, one question remained: what could I do for her right now?
In the end, only one word surfaced in my mind.
"Definitely."
I rolled over to face her; we were so close our foreheads almost touched. My hands reached for her back but froze halfway, as if afraid of being rejected. My fingertips started tingling with nerves.
I took a deep breath and looked into her eyes, searching for permission, or at least the absence of refusal.
When I saw it, even the tiniest hint, I hugged her. I pressed my face into her chest a little harder than intended, and the tip of my nose stung.
I felt like in no universe would I ever have dared to do this.
But right now, despite all my contradictions, I simply couldn't see any other way to show her I was here. Even if it wasn't what she needed.
"I… was jealous of how close you are with your parents. It hurt so much."
A moment ago my heart had been racing, but after her confession it slowly calmed. The thought that she trusted me enough to open up filled me with a quiet, unfamiliar joy.
"Mhm," I answered shortly, hugging her a little tighter.
When she buried her face in the top of my head, I felt her scent spread through my hair, slowly enveloping every strand. So warm…
If happiness could be turned into something you could touch, I think it would feel something like this.
A few moments later Luisa went quiet. I felt warm moisture in my hair, and then quiet, shaky breathing.
She had fallen asleep.