4 - Marcel's Pet
Having gained the status of being "the only one who keeps a pet" in this poor village, Marcel got carried away. He's in better form than ever. So much better that his obnoxiousness has also doubled.
Lately, Marcel seems to stay at home most of the time. As someone who can now walk outside without any caution, I'm grateful for that, but when I do run into him occasionally, the way he smirks with the corner of his mouth twisted up is disgusting. As a Japanese person who can read the room, the emotions I picked up from that expression were along the lines of "Alright then, my pet," "If you're saying you want to see it, I could show it to you, you know," "Say you want to see it. Go on." Marcel does this all over the village, so most of the villagers have fallen victim to this pet-flaunting. Because of that, even without seeing it, I knew what kind of pet it was.
...It's probably a squirrel-type rodent or something, kind of cute, but going to Marcel's house is out of the question.
It might be normal by village standards, but from a Japanese perspective, Marcel's house looks like nothing but a filthy home (T/N: the author writes 汚家 but gives the reading おうち, a pun on お家/home and 汚い/filthy), and I have no desire to visit it of my own free will.
...Come to think of it, I've never thought of Oban-san's house as dirty.
The Daltowa couple are clean compared to the other villagers, and the inside of their house is kept tidy. When they pat my head, I don't tense up at their outstretched hands, and when they pick me up, I don't need to hold my breath.
...Maybe one of them is a reincarnated Japanese person who loves cleanliness or something.
While I was indulging in such an absurd fantasy, a small shadow suddenly blocked my path.
"Yo, Tina! Long time no see!"
...So he's finally come out to hunt for someone to show off to, since no one comes to his house to see the pet anymore.
Ever since he bought the pet, Marcel called villagers to his house nearly every day to show it off, so the village chief's household's pet is known throughout the village. To be honest, the villagers are already sick of it. There's no one left in this village who would go out of their way to the village chief's house just to listen to Marcel's long boasting.
"I haven't shown you my pet ye..."
"Not interested."
I cut him off before he could finish. I do have a tiny desire to see the squirrel-type small animal, but the price I'd have to pay to satisfy that tiny bit of curiosity is far too high.
...I don't want to listen to Marcel's endless boasting, I don't want to see the village chief's face, and in the first place, I don't want to visit that filthy residence (T/N: same pun as above, 汚宅 read as お宅).
"You're lying! My pet is insanely cu..."
"Don't care."
"Just a little, to Tina..."
"Gross."
From Marcel's perspective, the squirrel-type pet and I seem to be similar. I'd heard from villagers who'd fallen victim to his pet-flaunting that he'd been going around saying things like "It's like Tina," "It looks like Tina," "My pet is cute, right?"
...Getting infatuated with a pet by projecting it onto a girl you like is way too creepy.
I put my hands on my hips and let out a grand sigh. It's meant as a gesture of exasperation, like "give me a break."
Lately, I've learned that engaging with him a little gets me released faster than completely ignoring him. One, greet. Two, cut him off without mercy. No three or four. Five, goodbye. That's the ideal. And since I've already handled up to two, all that's left is to move on to five. I want to get away from Marcel as quickly as possible. But I also knew that if I forcibly fled, he'd chase after me. In that case, I just need to provoke Marcel into leaving on his own. Provoking Marcel is easy. Just give him a few curt replies and his face immediately turns red with anger.
"...What the hell, you idiot Tina! I'm being nice enough to show you my pet!"
"I didn't ask. Not interested. No intention of seeing it."
When I rattled off every refusal I could think of, Marcel pressed his lips together in frustration.
"You're seriously not cute at all!"
"Thank you very much."
At Marcel's all-out verbal assault, I couldn't help but smile, pleased that it was actually a compliment. It was an expression of my feelings, like "I'd be happy if you keep hating me," but Marcel's mouth fell open as he blinked, and then he turned bright red all the way to his ears.
"I-I'm never inviting you again!!"
Hiding his reddened face, Marcel fled like a startled hare. I saw him off, tilting my head slightly.
...Huh? I drove him off in record time, but...?
Maybe, rather than rejecting him, accepting him makes Marcel easier to handle.
...Anyway, what kind of face do I have?
If I use my parents as reference, it shouldn't be a bad face. But what kind of face is it, that just a little smile turns an angry expression into a blush, making him get embarrassed and run away?
...The way the ends of my hair curl just a little, that's something I like.
The soft texture might just be because I'm still a little girl. I'm fond of the way the ends curl softly. If a little girl with those features were in front of me, even I would probably praise her as cute and dote on her.
...Ah, but there's also the possibility I don't look like my parents. My hair is black, different from either of them.
I pull my growing bangs forward and hold them up to the light. Jet-black hair, not my father's blond, nor my mother's red.
...Apparently my grandpa had black hair.
When I was curious about my hair color, my father Saro told me that. When I tried asking a bit more about my grandfather at the time, my father wouldn't tell me anything beyond that. The "parents eloped" theory I once entertained might be pretty close to the truth.
Whether I should be happy or sad about it, this Meiyu Village where I was born in this life doesn't get shut in by snow even in winter. If firewood runs low, you can go into the mountains to search for more, and it's possible to visit the neighbors. Still, you can't work the fields, and it's cold outside, so in the end the residents end up cooped up at home. Inside the house, the men do woodworking, and the women weave cloth and mend clothes, there's plenty to do.
In our household, we're spending the winter together with the Daltowa couple, with whom we have a good relationship. The main reason is that by staying in the same house, we can save on the firewood we gathered in autumn for wintering over. Another reason is that if I were shut in at home, the Daltowa couple seemed like they'd come to see me no matter how cold it was or even if it snowed. I don't want the couple, who are nearing old age, to do something like that. If they slipped on a snowy path, it would be terrible.
They dote on me almost like a daughter or granddaughter, so I in turn cherish them like second parents or grandparents. My parents seem to feel the same way, and by spending the winter together, they've been learning various things about the village's customs and traditions from the couple. I find it utterly baffling that my parents want to fit into the village quickly. Even after being ostracized for years, I couldn't understand at all why they would want to fit into this village.
...Huh? Come to think of it, Marcel hasn't been coming around lately, has he?
From spring through autumn, almost every day. Even in winter, Marcel would come to invite me to play once every three days, but he hasn't shown his face for about a week now.
...Has he finally understood that I hate him?
Just as I was feeling relieved inside, Oban-san, who had gone to the shed to get firewood, came back with some gossip.
"Marcel from the village chief's place has been bedridden for ten days now with some kind of illness, apparently."
"A cold, maybe? He was too energetic and jumped into the winter river, I bet."
That was about the extent of our household's reaction. Everyone in the village knows that Marcel is too energetic. Speculation ran wild. He must have jumped into the winter river because he was too rowdy, he must have slept naked, and so on.
"Nicola, who went to visit Marcel, is now bedridden too, apparently."
A few days later, the rumor shifted slightly. In place of Marcel recovering, the child who went to visit him was now bedridden. Marcel's cold must have spread to him.
At first, that's what everyone said.
"...Tina-chan, you absolutely must not leave the house."
"No matter who comes, don't open the door. Be especially careful of the village chief."
It was after the rumor came that Marcel had fallen ill again that the Daltowa couple began keeping me shut in the house. It's cold outside, and I don't have any friends to run around and play with anyway, so being cooped up at home wasn't a hardship, but my parents and the Daltowa couple seem somewhat uneasy, and that worries me. They're on edge and restless.
The first to die was Nicola.
In my understanding, he was one of Marcel's hangers-on. He always moved together with Marcel and did whatever Marcel said. You couldn't call that an equal friendship. He was what you'd call a sycophant, instructed by his parents to curry favor with the village chief, the village's authority figure. Naturally, from my perspective as someone who was bullied by Marcel nearly every day, there was no way I could feel any goodwill toward him.
...I do think it's pitiful, but that's about it.
I'm not particularly sad or anything. If anything, I felt more sorry for Nicola's parents, who lost their child so soon.
"...Marcel... same..."
"Still bedridden..."
"...Besides Nicola... also bedridden..."
After they put me to bed, practically shoving me into the bedroom, I could hear my parents and the others discussing the recent state of the village. If I piece together what I overheard, it goes something like this.
Nicola and Marcel are bedridden with the same symptoms. Marcel recovered once, but is bedridden again. It seems it's not just a common cold. First a high fever hits and you're bedridden, then when the fever subsides, your skin turns red and raw, with an intense itching. Blisters like pox can also form, and if you can't endure the itching and scratch them, they multiply. Just when they thought Nicola's voice, crying "itchy, itchy," had gone quiet, Nicola was dead. Marcel, lately, has been coughing up blood, apparently.
...What the hell, that's terrifying. He didn't pick up some weird disease, did he?
Just piecing together rumors is enough to make me this anxious. The anxiety of the villagers, all gossiping together in large numbers, must be beyond comparison.
...Should I make a mask or something for when I walk outside?
What kind of disease is it? What are the prevention methods? I had no accurate information about any of it, but when I thought about what prevention and countermeasures I could take on my own right now, the only things that came to mind were thorough hand-washing and gargling, and wearing a mask.
The quintessentially impoverished thinking of a former Japanese person.
Tina's appearance is cute. The little girl component is also cute.