Miss, It’s Just a Cold

Chapter 40: I

If there’s one thing we both know, it’s that we’ve never been normal sisters.

Sure, we’re not normal.

What kind of sister looks down on her older sibling, or sides with their mother while she torments her?

I thought there was nothing I could do.

Mother had persistently brainwashed me into believing I was worthless, that I had no value.

But I’m not worthless.

It’s just that I’ve lived as if I were for so long that it seems impossible to escape this miserable reality without taking drastic measures.

Not that I’m talking about something like suicide.

Even if I’ve questioned whether life has meaning, I still want to live.

To give up on wanting to live would be the true end.

I need hope.

Hope that things will get better from here.

But I don’t want my happiness to depend on others.

If I did, I’d have clung to Ernst or Aria a long time ago, begging them to help me, to let me leech off their lives.

“Uh, sister!?”

“Do you not like being hugged? If you don’t, I’ll let go right away.”

“No, it’s not that. I was just surprised because you hugged me so suddenly.”

“Then that’s a relief. Truly, I’m relieved.”

As I held her, I whispered in her ear.

Ellie smelled of something sweet—flour and sugar, like cake.

There was also a faint floral scent, probably from some kind of perfume extract, adding a subtle sharpness to the sweetness.

What kind of expression was I making?

What was I thinking at this moment?

I could only see the ground at the edge of the terrace.

In the garden below, couples were holding each other, kissing, pressing their bodies together.

Did Emily ever want something like that?

To meet someone, to become close to them, to love them like that?

I don’t know.

And what about me, now that I’ve become Emily? What is it that I want to be?

I’ve lost faith in the basic truths: that people love people, that parents love their children.

“Ellie, do you hate me?”

“No, I told you, it’s fine…”

“Not hugging. I mean, do you hate me—Emily Reichten?”

“…I don’t hate you. Actually, I… like you…”

What a load of crap.

This isn’t one of those stories where people bully someone because they like them. What kind of nonsense is this?

If I pushed Ellie off this terrace, would she die?

Probably not—she’d just break an arm or a leg. That’d be it.

“Well, that’s a relief. Truly.”

I exhaled, slowly, once, twice, and murmured softly.

“But what if I did something unforgivable?”

“W-why are you asking me that all of a sudden!?”

“It’s not like you haven’t before. You once threw a glass at me over a letter I gave to Ernst.”

“I didn’t mean to…”

Even if it wasn’t intentional, the scars remain.

Maybe they’ve been building up inside me, little by little, since childhood.

I hugged Ellie tightly.

Not tightly enough to hurt her, though.

I guess there’s nothing I can truly do with my strength alone.

After all, Emily’s body isn’t very strong to begin with.

Even stepping on piano pedals to play a piece would probably be difficult with a body like this.

Hmm… maybe giving up on her legs would be enough.

I tried to push Ellie off the terrace, but my body wouldn’t move, no matter how much strength I tried to muster.

Was Ellie heavy like a pig, or was I just weak?

“Sister? Why are you leaning on me all of a sudden?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. My arm just got tired while hugging you. Sorry if it made you uncomfortable.”

“No! It’s fine. Really.”

“This reminds me of the first time we met.”

“…The first time?”

The first time after I became Emily.

Not that you’d understand even if I told you.

I understand very well why Emily fled this damned world.

I let out a hollow laugh.

Ellie, if you didn’t hate me…

You could’ve helped me a little.

You could’ve chosen not to join Mother in tormenting me.

“…Tormenting you?”

“Oh, so you don’t even realize. Or maybe you’ve just inherited her madness.

You’re so much like her—exactly like her. You’re the spitting image of Mother.”

The hair, the eyes, the nose, the mouth, the chin, the ears, the brows, even the slight wrinkles on the neck—there’s not a single feature you don’t share.

“Father thought I was someone else’s child and wanted to throw me out.”

Am I saying this out of inferiority?

Or is it because I still want recognition from that wretched woman?

Maybe it’s not me.

Maybe it’s the faint part of Emily still lingering in me that craves her approval.

But then again, what good would that recognition even do?

It’s horrifying.

Horrifying enough to drive me mad.

I can’t even imagine her smiling, stroking my hair, or praising me.

Since childhood—ever since I became Emily—she’s always looked at me as if I were trash.

That’s the same look she gave everything I cared about.

Music is beautiful.

The music in this world is less so, but it doesn’t matter—I carry the most beautiful pieces within me.

I used to share that beauty through performances, and my family seemed satisfied by it.

If it had been Ellie or Fabian performing instead of me, Mother probably would have seen it as beautiful.

But it was my performance—something associated with me—and so she looked at it with disdain, with hatred.

Yet I still sought her approval.

Emily longed for her praise, to hear her say she was proud to have Emily as her daughter.

“S-sister.”

“What? Nothing. Just the kind of thoughts I usually have.”

“Did you really ask me to meet Ernst just to talk about this…?”

“This? It’s an important topic for me, in its own way.”

Come to think of it, I’ve teased Ellie plenty of times before, but I’ve never outright said, I really hate you.

I suppose now’s the time to do it.

“Important? How?”

Ellie seemed slightly irritated.

Why? Hmm. Is it because she didn’t get to see Ernst? Or because I tricked her?

Because someone like me tricked her.

A smile crept across my lips.

Was it a mocking smile or just a self-deprecating one?

Either way, it didn’t really matter.

“Ellie, you said you didn’t hate me. But I really hate you.”

Honestly, isn’t that fair?

When you ordered me to run errands, I ran them. When you told me to crawl, I crawled. When you hit me, I took the blows…

“……”

“I don’t wish you were dead or anything. But I wouldn’t mind if you tripped over a doorstep and fell flat on your face.”

I stepped back slightly as I said that, leaning casually against the terrace railing.

And it’s not like you haven’t tormented me either.

Don’t try to deny it. You always ridiculed me, belittled me, humiliated me…

I trailed off, realizing I could go on forever if I didn’t stop myself.

I took a deep breath in and let it out slowly.

I needed to calm down.

If I let my emotions spiral out of control, I might lose myself and jump over the railing then and there.

Anyway, all that talk about Ernst was a lie.”

…Then I’ll leave. Don’t call me for nonsense like this again.

“Don’t go. I think I’ll feel a little sad if you do.

“……”

Ellie sighed, looking at me as though I was being a nuisance.

Still, there was something different about her movements—they seemed careful, almost considerate, as if she were worried about me.

It felt strangely unfamiliar.

If she suddenly starts acting like this, I can’t even have fun messing with her properly.

“You said you didn’t hate me, right? You even said you liked me, hah.”

“Yes, I like you. Now please, get down from there…”

I took a deep breath.

When you say something like this, it’s important that your voice doesn’t tremble.

Emotions tend to make it shake otherwise.

“Do you really like me?”

“Yes, so please! Just come down!”

“Heh, no.”

Ellie started moving toward me cautiously.

So, I decided to act on what I had resolved.

“Everything’s just so damned awful. I think it’s about time I did things my way.”

Ellie asked me what I meant by that.

I climbed onto the terrace railing, perching there, though I didn’t stand up.

Standing would attract too much attention.

I didn’t want to ruin the mood of the couples kissing in the garden below. That would just be rude.

“…So now it’s not just your arm—you’re planning to die in front of me too?”

“I don’t know. You’re the one who left scars on my arm, so would you be the one to push me this time?”

Jumping from here probably wouldn’t even kill me.

“P-please, hic, just… just come down.”

Ellie was either overwhelmed with emotion or trying to seem pitiful. 

She was crying as she pleaded with me to step down.

She continued inching closer to me.

“Ellie, does your bedroom window open easily?”

“……”

“I’m just feeling a little stifled. Why are you crying? Haha.”