As I Know Anything About You, I'll Be The One To Your Girlfriend, Aren't I? - Volume 1 Chapter 5.3

What Red Means to You 3

Suika’s PoV

I was still young, about a second-grader in elementary school.

“Thank you very much.”

Whenever I left the dojo after giving thanks to my mother, I was always staggering.

The Ado family’s training was rigorous. Striking, throwing, finishing moves, swords, spears, bows—mastering them all was the mark of a Ado woman. The training was harsh, to say the least.

However, frankly speaking, I didn’t like fighting or anything like that at all. There was no joy in becoming stronger for me.

Why do I have to do this?

That’s what I thought all the time back then, but still, I felt a sense of duty because “I am a child of this house.” If I was born into the Ado family, then it was something I should do, and I wanted to meet my mother and grandmother’s expectations.

My heart was caught in a vice of emotions, and my body was worn out from fatigue.

There was a special place of solace for me.

Near our house, on a small hill, there was a single large tree. Only when I was there, I could forget about things I had to do or didn’t want to do.

That tree was incredibly certain in its existence. It felt like it would surely always be there, a tree that existed long before I was born and would continue to exist long after I was gone.

A certain something that never wavered. In hindsight, I must have found comfort there because I had nothing like that in my life at the time.

I often literally leaned on it and fell asleep. As a child, that’s how I endured the daily training.

A fluttering, unstable spirit without something to anchor on. Easily swayed by even the slightest thing, losing sight of where to go, a timid and fragile existence. That was me at the time.

“Suika~!”

“…Kuuya-kun.”

He often came to call for me, a boy one year older living nearby.

“It’s dinner time! They say it’s some really good meat!”

He was incredibly bright, unlike me. His large smile could be recognized from a hundred meters away, his trademark.

Our fathers had been friends since the old days, and our families were close, often dining together.

“Let’s go back!”

“…Yeah.”

He was someone who, without fail, helped and pulled me along, shy and poor at expressing my own thoughts and feelings.

Always the center of attention with his sunny disposition, and perhaps because of his keen observation skills, he quickly sensed what I wanted to say and took care of everything.

I was very grateful, admiring, and thought he was amazing.

There might have been a vague sense of affection, but it wasn’t to the extent that I was consciously aware of it as a romantic feeling.

“Did you draw today too, Kuuya-kun?”

“Yeah!”

“I see…”

In addition, at that time, I harbored another feeling towards him.

That was “envy.”

Spending time calmly drawing pictures inside the house or in the garden. While he was doing that, I was enduring harsh training in the dojo, which inevitably made me think, “I wish I could do that too.”

It seemed free from pain and suffering.

…That was the world surrounding me, and a significant upheaval happened in the summer of that year.

“Ah…”

“Sorry, Suika. It just has to be done.”

I clearly remember my grandfather, now passed away, apologizing to me at the time.

Due to some land readjustment or something, I didn’t understand the details as a child. All I knew was that the tree had to be cut down, no matter what.

“…It’s okay if it can’t be helped.”

“…Is that so?”

“Sorry, sorry,” my grandfather repeatedly stroked me. I strongly believed it wasn’t his fault. There are things in this world that just can’t be helped.

That tree was on the Ado family’s land. If the Ado family, with its strong influence, had insisted, it might have been possible to save the tree.

But the Ado was not such a family.

The family worked for the development of the surrounding area and the community, serving as a model. I am proud of my grandfather’s decision at that time.

As planned, the tree was cut down (it seems it was difficult to replant it somewhere else), and the hill was leveled. I couldn’t bring myself to watch it happen at all.

I had to keep going strong even without that tree, so I devoted myself to training. But it was just a façade, and even my usually strict mother and grandmother seemed concerned during that time.

And then, about a month after the tree was cut down.

“Suikaaa, Suikaaa!”

I heard a voice calling me from the entrance. It was a familiar boy’s voice.

At the entrance of the Ado house, Kuuya and his parents were there. My parents and grandfather were also there.

But my eyes didn’t go to them. They were drawn to a single point, inexplicably there, the tree that should have already been gone.

I don’t know how many breaths I took or how many times I blinked. After some time passed, I finally realized it was a painting of that tree.

It was a strange sensation. Different from a photograph. The reality of the tree’s presence was cut out in the form of a canvas, right here, now.

Along with that incomparable sense of security.

“…This?”

Kuuya-kun had.

When I asked, I finally noticed his complexion was terribly pale.

“Will you accept it?”

“Y-Yes…”

The framed painting was heavy. Not just the weight of the object, but something more.

“Kuuya-kun,”

“I’m glad I could give it to you… Sorry, I’m a bit… haha, sleepy…”

“Kuuya-kun!?”

After handing me the painting, he collapsed. By the time his father and mother supported his body, he had already lost consciousness.

“We’ve caused a commotion, sorry, Daisuke. We’ll take Kuuya home now.”

“It’s not a commotion, but… is Kuuya-kun okay…?”

“He’s my son, after all,” Kuuya’s father said with a smile to my father. There seemed to be some resolve in his expression.

Kuuya’s father was also a painter. His paintings were like delicate glasswork that seemed to shatter if touched carelessly by rough humans, incredibly ephemeral, delicate, and stunningly beautiful.

And perhaps, just as his paintings suggested, he wasn’t very physically strong.

“Sorry, Suika-chan, for the suddenness. If you like it, this child would be happy too.”

Those were the words of Kuuya’s mother, also a painter. A beautiful woman with distinct features, her voice and expressions always carried a strange vibrancy.