LIGHTNOVELONLINE Chapter 195
Chapter 195: Side Story 1
Aria’s life begins in a cramped, dim one-room apartment.
No matter how smart she is, there’s no way she could remember anything from the moment she was born. So, whatever memories she believes she has must be an illusion; yet, Aria has firmly believed that this is real all along.
“Is this my younger sister? Really? …She looks so wrinkled.”
With a somewhat blunt youthful voice, she hoped her sparkling gaze pouring over her face was genuine.
Aria’s clear memories began from the age of three. From then on, the young genius started to piece together the environment she was born into.
A poor household. No father, and her mother, even if she was present, seemed incredibly busy.
If her mother had been healthy, she would have managed the livelihood herself, but she was frail. Every breath felt rough, and her body always felt heavy. It was as if she were a fish living on land.
In the year she turned four, her mother passed away, and on a day when she barely managed to survive at the age of five, Aria deeply felt that she was someone who couldn’t live without help from others.
“Cough, cough! Ack, urgh!”
“…Damn, are you okay? Come here and take your medicine.”
Realizing that fact was incredibly miserable. Aria squirmed in self-deprecation, and learned despair and resignation.
Even with a dying body, Aria wanted to live. Her day-to-day life was maddeningly empty, bordering on mere existence, but still, she yearned to survive.
Is there a need for a special reason? The desire to live is the most basic instinct of humanity.
“Don’t follow me. You’re a nuisance.”
Aria instinctively understood she needed to cling to her older sister, three years her senior—this person called sister.
“Eat. Quickly. Just watching you eat means I have to go out again.”
The responsibility of providing Aria’s daily meals fell on her sister, Kashmir. Kashmir, possessing a somewhat pessimistic gaze for someone so young, was quite blunt and cynical, yet she diligently prepared Aria’s meals.
“My foolish sister.”
What does blood relation even mean?
The little cunning girl would let go of family anytime if it meant her life could improve. In stark contrast, Kashmir viewed Aria with the eyes of someone bearing a burden, yet she never let go. She worked quite well for someone her age, often bringing in money.
If I could become someone who couldn’t be discarded by that person, wouldn’t I be able to survive?
Young Aria calculated this.
“Sis, where are you going? Take me with you!”
And then she acted.
“I picked flowers! Aren’t they pretty? If we put them in a cup, we can look at them for a long time.”
“You’re the best! Do you like them too?”
“I’m weak, so I can’t live without you. You know that right?”
Aria declared that all humans are evil from the moment they are born. She was included in that definition. To survive, she forced a smile and spat out appropriately crafted words.
Did Aria love Kashmir?
She could assert that she did not. Love? More like, it was a relief to simply wake up each morning.
“When I grow up and get healthy, I’m going to leave this damned place.”
To Aria, Kashmir was merely a tool. A sacred power that allowed her to continue her ailing life.
Many injured people survive due to that sacred power, but none love it. That would be madness.
Aria realized that nothing makes a person more foolish than love, as she observed her sister. Emotions were merely a convenient weakness.
“Foolish girl. Even if they last long, they’ll wilt anyway. Hand them over. I’ll put them on the table.”
“It’s not like that. I can’t just throw them away; I’m keeping them… Are you crying? Why, why are you crying? Just kidding. I like them too.
Don’t cry, okay?”
“I know. That’s why I’m still keeping them. Who else but me will take care of you?”
Thus, her small, rough hands that stroked her head, her seemingly indifferent yet warm rose-colored eyes, and the soft lips that brushed her forehead late at night—all these things didn’t evoke any emotions in Aria.
…Surely, that was the case.
Aria’s body weakened day by day, rather than improving. The entirety of her existence consisted of reading books in an empty house, doing household chores, or lightly shopping at the market.
“Why was I born so weak?”
Time alone afforded her plenty of time to think. From a young age, Aria felt a sense of disillusionment regarding life.
For the tragedy that began with her birth, whom should she blame? Should she blame the parents who bore her this way? Or the gods?
There was a time she resented them, but at some point, that too grew tiresome. Aria even forgot why she so desperately wished to live.
“Aria! I’m back.”
The only time she felt alive was when she was with Kashmir. Had she melted to Aria’s childish attitude? Not long after, Kashmir opened her heart and became foolishly innocent and bright.
“Sis! Did you have a good day? You worked hard.”
Though Aria clicked her tongue internally at that naïveté, she smiled externally. What else could she do but live? She would list the mundane aspects of her day while crafting the image of a cheerful younger sister. This was her way of surviving.
Aria’s routine began with seeing Kashmir off to work early in the morning and ended with awaiting her return late at night. Her world was cramped. Just her and Kashmir.
Thus, it was only natural for Aria to focus on Kashmir.
Kashmir had hair as black as if it absorbed all light, and intense rose-colored eyes that sparked something within just by looking at her. She may have been small and thin, but she never appeared weak. When those two eyes contained venom, she looked stronger than anyone else.
She was the opposite of Aria, who had a frail body and a soft complexion.
“Wouldn’t life be a bit happier if I could be like my sister?”
So it was inevitable for Aria to take Kashmir as her ideal.
It wasn’t love. Just a faint, distant yearning like gazing at a star. It was wondrous how, even in this filthy house, there was sunlight in her sister’s smiling face, and she envied the strangely shimmering eyes that were dim yet still bright.
That was all, Aria thought.
The turning point came one night.
Creeeek.
On a night when she awaited Kashmir’s return—that it was like any other night—the sound of the door opening caused her tired eyes to blink.
“Ah. Aria. You’re awake. I didn’t mean to wake you…”
As she saw Kashmir staggering through the door, Aria felt a jolt to her heart for the first time.
Disheveled hair. Torn clothes that hinted at wounds underneath—she looked like she had rolled around in rocks, yet she foolishly smiled.
Kashmir often came home injured. After all, she took on odd jobs and hard labor.
But never had she looked as bad as on this day.
“…What happened?”
As her breath hitched, Aria struggled to breathe normally. The young genius experienced intense emotions for the first time, emotions that her reason couldn’t control.
Kashmir smiled. She pulled her torn lips up in a dazzling grin. Then she shook a dessert cake she was holding in her hand.
“Nothing happened. I brought back your favorite tart; should we eat it now?”
In that moment, with her heart sinking and her chest aching, Aria felt that her life had gone terribly wrong.
Kashmir was no longer an option that Aria could discard at any time.
Days continued with Kashmir returning home battered. Trying to hide it, her face often remained unscathed, but sharp-eyed Aria could not overlook Kashmir’s condition.
“Must be work as a mercenary.”
With a sudden spike in income, her battered body, and occasionally glimpses of wooden tokens in her pocket, presumed to be from a mercenary group.
Kashmir probably thought she was hiding it quite well, but Aria could easily guess.
How harsh the mercenary work was; even stuck at home, Aria was well aware of that. In a place where many are pushed to the brink, how long could a mere teenager last?
Aria was engulfed in unexpected anxiety.
“Sis, can’t you quit that job?”
She asked one day, quite impulsively.
It should be good to bring home a lot of money. No matter how much one earns, if they die suddenly, it would be a loss in the long term, right?
Having been accustomed to calculations from a very young age, her emotional side felt awkward.
“Aria.”
Ah, yes. That gentle gaze.
Even without Kashmir saying she loved her, Aria felt it. That bothered her. Looking into those eyes made rational thought escape her.
“I’ll make you happy. Just wait a little longer.”
The corners of her eyes curled up, and her rough hand briefly stroked Aria’s head. It was a firm rejection.
Feeling like she might cry, Aria buried her face in Kashmir’s embrace. No matter how calculative or emotional she was, that small space was always open for Aria.
‘What good is any of it? I’m not happy now.’
Every moment spent waiting for Kashmir was an ordeal, yet still, Aria couldn’t bring herself to break out.
Kashmir looked so happy when she spoke those words. What was there so good about herself that made her eyes shine with such joy for Aria?
Thus, she crushed the words that bloomed within her heart.
There came a day when Kashmir said she would return in two days but vanished for three. It might have been easy to think casually, given how often unexpected events disrupted plans.
The economics book she borrowed from the library was interesting, the flowers she saw on her brief walk were beautiful, and even the stew she had for dinner, while shabby, wasn’t too bad.
“Aria! Aria! Are you home?”
On the evening of the third day, someone knocked so hard on the door that the little cabin shook. Aria, who had been waiting for Kashmir, was taken aback by the sudden appearance of an unexpected presence.
“Philip…?”
It was Philip, who ran a small medical clinic near their home. Looking bewildered in front of the startled Aria, Philip’s expression twisted.
“Kashmir is in critical condition. I found her collapsed at the village entrance, poisoned. I performed first aid, but tonight will be a critical time. You should come and… see her.”
Aria couldn’t even remember how she managed to get there. Though the slightest movement made her wheeze, she felt like she ran far too fast.
“Sis…!”
With a bang.
There lay Kashmir as if dead.
Her skin was pale and lifeless. Her eyes tightly shut, and there were no signs of her lips parting which were now a ghastly blue. They said she was poisoned; only her irregular breathing indicated she was still alive.
At that moment, Aria realized.
She had clung desperately to Kashmir to survive, but the reason for her attachment had changed somewhere along the way.
It wasn’t a fear of dying from being abandoned by Kashmir; rather, she feared simply being abandoned by Kashmir. She didn’t dislike her foolish older sister, who poured love into her narrow world.
Kashmir was the only meaning in Aria’s barren life.
“You don’t have to heal me… Can’t you just wake up?”
Aria collapsed over Kashmir’s cold body, gasping all through the night.
It was the intense awakening of first love.