Miss, It’s Just a Cold

Chapter 16: Running

Today, I decided to clean myself up as much as possible before stepping out of the house.

But there was a bit of a problem.

Why won’t my nosebleed stop?

I kept wiping it away with a white cloth while looking in the mirror, but the blood just wouldn’t stop flowing.

At this rate, I looked like I had been in a fight with someone.

Not that anyone hits me except my mother.

My neck ached like it might snap, and I felt utterly drained of energy.

I walked to the bathroom, leaned over the sink, and blew my nose.

The blood dripped down, splattering loudly, staining the pristine white sink bright red.

Although I washed it off with water, the sharp smell of blood lingered.

At least the bleeding had finally stopped.

I took off my clothes and washed my entire body.

Perhaps it was because I sweated so much yesterday, but I felt sticky all over.

Filling the bathtub with water, I slowly eased myself in.

For some reason, only warm water ever came out.

Moments like this made me wish I could soak in cool water to clear both my head and my mind.

I’d need to get a new notebook soon.

I had only five pages left.

I’d used it for so long that I couldn’t help but feel it had lasted impressively.

Touching my forehead, it was burning hot.

I couldn’t tell if it was because of the warm water or because my body itself was feverish.

My whole body trembled, and my vision blurred several times before I forced myself to get out of the bathtub.

Water trickled slowly down my snow-white hair as I stepped onto the cold floor and looked in the mirror.

My body was so emaciated that my ribs were visible.

I let out a hollow laugh, quickly dried my body and hair, got dressed, and went to my room to take some medicine.

Has it already been a week?

The bruises still lingered, so it didn’t seem that long had passed.

The real issue was that I couldn’t pay for a hospital visit.

The old man had mentioned he would take the payment from my future husband, but how could he know whom I’d marry?

I could die before then.

What should I do?

As I paced nervously near the door, Fabian approached me.

“Ah, perfect timing,” he said.

“…What?”

“Fabian, can you lend me some money?

No, I won’t say I’ll pay you back—I can’t.”

It would just be allowance money to him, but even that I couldn’t get.

“How much?”

“How much does a typical hospital visit cost?”

Fabian sighed and handed me his coin pouch.

It jingled heavily in my hands.

“This much? Isn’t it too much?”

“I don’t care. Just go to the hospital already.”

“Hah, thanks.”

Though I didn’t want to say anything unnecessary after accepting it, hearing Fabian show concern for me was something I wasn’t used to.

I put on a modestly fluttering dress and swapped my blue shoes for plain black flats before stepping out of the house.

Mother wasn’t home today, so I didn’t need her permission to leave.

Didn’t Emily always say she went to see Ernst in times like these?

What did they talk about when they met?

What expressions did they wear during their conversations?

It probably wasn’t anything pleasant, considering Ernst ended up loving Aria instead of Emily.

Tucking the jingling pouch into my chest, I stepped onto the street.

I greeted everyone I passed politely, with a fragrant smile.

After all, I was the charming young lady outside and the pretty daughter inside the house.

At least, I looked the part.

How could someone enduring abuse at home go around smiling like this?

If I always acted gloomy, miserable, and sad, maybe someone would notice.

But appearances are everything.

It’s not a bad thing, but ultimately, what’s visible is what people believe.

If you want someone to know your thoughts, you must express them.

If you want someone to understand your feelings, you must show them.

Whether they accept it is another matter entirely.

That’s how people can understand each other.

No matter who the other person is, once you understand and know them well, you might not accept them.

Because there’s no need to.

Lost in such useless thoughts, I trudged on until I arrived at the hospital, where the pungent smell of medicine and the distant cries of patients filled the air.

I gave my name to the woman at the reception desk and was told to wait on a plush chair until I could head up to the old man’s room.

Other patients were seated on hard, backless chairs.

Not that it mattered.

It’s not like I wanted to shout, “This aristocracy is unfair!” or something. I just wanted to escape my household.

After some time, I went up to the old man’s room.

He stared intently at my face as I entered.

“Could you extend your arm, please?”

I extended my arm, and he began examining various things.

I didn’t know what he was doing.

“…Your condition has worsened. Have you had a higher fever?”

“If it’s gotten worse, give me stronger medicine. I can endure the pain to some extent.”

The old man pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered something to an assistant standing nearby.

The assistant fetched various medicines from a room filled with shelves and handed them to the old man.

The old man instructed me to take the painkillers only when absolutely necessary and to take the other pills once a day. Then, he handed me the medicines.

When I tried to pay the assistant, the old man refused to take the money.

It felt like I was in debt, not receiving charity, but given my circumstances, I nodded and left the hospital.

With a bag full of medicine, I was heading home when I ran into Ernst on the street.

Since it was only about a ten-minute walk from home, I intended to greet him briefly and move on, but he came over and took the bag of medicine from me.

“Is this all medicine?”

“Yeah.”

“Why is there so much…?”

Ernst peered into the bag, muttering to himself as he examined its contents.

If the medicine doesn’t work because the illness is too strong, the solution is simple: take more medicine.

It might sound crude, but aside from the damage it does to the body, it’s a surefire method.

And if I die in the process, well, that’s that.

Life is already this hard—what’s a little more to endure?

Maybe it’s a competition to see whether Mother will kill me first or if I’ll succumb to the effects of the medicine.

“Don’t you have somewhere you’re supposed to be?”

“It’s fine, I’ve got time. By the way, I heard Aria came to see you?”

“She said she was a friend. I don’t have any friends, and even if I did, it’d only be you. But you don’t visit me, do you?”

“…I suppose not.”

“Yeah, you’ve never been to my house. Unless you count the garden out front.”

Ernst looked slightly puzzled.

Well, of course—someone has to invite you to visit, and I, his closest friend, never extended an invitation. So naturally, he never came.

Aria—I don’t even know her real name.

That person is strange.

She doesn’t follow the rules of this world, the ones you must follow even if you hate them.

If you don’t, Mother will kill you.

And I mean that quite literally.

“This is the first time we’ve walked together like this, isn’t it?”

“Uh, is it?”

“Yeah. We’re not so much childhood friends as just kids who lived next door to each other.”

Suddenly, my throat felt sticky.

“Ugh—”

I coughed.

I tried my best to hold back the blood, but it sounded like I was mocking someone.

Maybe I was mocking myself.

I stayed in this house until my body ended up in this state.

But what else could I do?

There’s no one who loves me.

If I had strong arms and legs, I would have escaped this house. But at least I know staying here is the best way to survive.

“You’ve been coughing a lot lately.”

“The weather’s getting colder. I must have caught a cold. My body feels a bit chilly too.”

“Then you should put on a coat or something—”

“Shut up. It’s none of your business.”

“Why are you snapping at me all of a sudden?”

I snatched the bag Ernst was carrying out of his hands.

Adding the weight back to my arms made it feel heavier than before.

“So don’t bother carrying things like this bag for me, just like today.

Whatever happened at the ball, how I looked, or what I’ve been through—you don’t have to care.

You’ve managed fine so far, haven’t you?”

I think it’s cruel to stay near someone who might die any moment, unsure if they’ll survive.

Not that I’m planning to die or anything.

Ernst bit his lip and suddenly grabbed the bag back from me.

Then, with a playful grin, he bolted toward my house.

I let out a hollow laugh and ran after him.

Yes, this was nice.

Talking with someone, running around like this—it felt good!

My body moved, my breath quickened, and I felt the wind.

My feet ached, but when had my body ever been free of pain?

Even as my bruises screamed at me to stop, I chased after Ernst, who kept glancing back with a mischievous grin as he ran ahead.

Laughing all the while.

I want to run like that, too.

“Huff, hack, wheeze—ugh—”

Maybe it was because I hadn’t moved like this in so long.

Even though I broke into coughing fits, Ernst stood far ahead by the house.

Suddenly, my vision blurred.

I felt like the sky was spinning.

My legs gave out, and I collapsed by the side of the road.

Ernst noticed me from a distance and started walking toward me.

At least I’d wiped my mouth during the coughing fit and tucked the handkerchief into my pocket.

Man, I really ran far today.

If I write in my notebook tonight, I’ll make sure to include this line:

I had fun running for the first time in ages.

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