Dairy Of Ellen

A Girl Who Was Loved (6)

The next morning.
I woke up after father left for work.
I was accustomed to waking up alone in the morning, but I felt down, likely because of our fight yesterday.
Looking out the window, the sky was bright and cloudless. Just the opposite of how I felt. I leaned on the window sill, thinking I might get some cheer from the sun's rays.
I thought about yesterday.
When father got home, I would have to talk to him again, properly this time.
...About Ellen.

I wouldn't talk to all the villagers, but I would talk to father. Maybe we could even go visit her together.
Since father was such a good person, maybe he'd just been swept away by all the others talking about hiding away a sick child. He couldn't stand up to them, and was just forced to accept it.
Yes, that must be it.
Like a leaf opening up as it bathed in the sun, I gradually regained my cheerfulness.

As I prepared to leave for Ellen's house, I noticed a letter on the desk.
I picked it up.
It was a letter from father.
He must have written it last night, or else this morning.
I casually opened it up - then stopped. I folded it up and held it to my chest. Maybe there were things written there I didn't want to know.
I heard my heart beat fast with unease.
I thought myself pathetic for thinking just bathing in the sun would grant me courage.
I'll read it later, I thought, stuffing it in the pocket of my skirt and leaving the house.

In the forest.
I walked along with a basket, picking flowers.
They were to make her happy. I picked flowers with bright, strong colors, so even her worsening eyes could see them. Nice-smelling ones were good, too.
Her house was filled with nothing but roses, so I had no doubt even ordinary flowers would make her delight.
In no time, the basket was filled with brilliant flowers.
As I left the garden to head for Ellen's house -
"Oww!"
My eye pricked with pain, and I covered it with my hand. It seemed a bug or something had flown at me.
Boy, how unlucky.
I walked the path, rubbing my eye.

After pa.s.sing the garden of blue and red flowers, my feet stopped.
In the middle of the path surrounded by trees, the black cat sat looking at me.
He seemed like he was trying to block my way. Just as I was thinking how rarely I saw him outside -

"Yo."

The cat spoke in a boyish voice.
The wind blew between the black cat and I.
I found myself looking around to make sure there was no one there. Then I looked at the cat again.
Yo? Did this black cat just say "yo"?
As I said nothing out of utter surprise, the cat adorably tilted his head and spoke again.
"Thanks for being friends with Ellen."
The voice was unmistakably coming from the cat.
"But y'know, I'm a better friend to her than you."
Then the black cat stuck out his chest slightly with a chuckle.

I pulled myself together, and lifting up the arm on which the basket hung, I timidly muttered:
"Kitty... You can talk?"
"Yep," the cat flatly replied, swinging his long tail in a wide arc.
"Because she uses magic."
"Magic?"
"Yes, magic."
I was taken aback by the word reminiscent of fairy tales. But, oddly, it didn't strike me as that unusual.
This cat could talk thanks to Ellen's magic?

Thinking back on it, it was this cat who invited me to the house.
She wanted a friend. Perhaps the cat heard her plea and brought me to her.
The image of Ellen and the black cat talking in her room came to mind. It seemed more fantastical than it did eerie.
My face beamed pleasantly.
The black cat tilted his head sharply, perhaps not expecting that response.
"You aren't surprised?"
I nodded.
"...What a strange kid."

"Hmph."
The black cat snorted with boredom. Then he spoke cheerfully.
"Why did you get along so well with Ellen?"
"Why...?"
Confused by the question, the next words came before I could prepare a reply.
"'Cause you felt sorry for her?"
"Huh?'
The wind whistled between the black cat and I.
"'Cause you could look down on sick Ellen, so weak and dirty. That's why you got on with her, isn't it? So you could pity her and be reassured of your own health? You liked feeling superior, like you were her only friend?"

A bad wind blew, rustling my skirt.
I opened my lips at once. But I couldn't get the words out right away. My head heated up, as if the black cat's words were invading my brain, and I panicked.
I spoke with resistance.
"...That's not true. I mean, yes, I felt sorry for her at first. But before long, I really ended up being Ellen's friend."
"Hmm."
Despite sitting lower than me, the black cat lightly raised his chin as if looking down on me.
"Were you taught you had to be kind to weaklings?"
"I just thought that myself."
"Hmph. Well, all right."