9 – an unpleasant day

It’s been seven weeks since I left my family to participate in the martial arts competition. Entered Belias, the heart of the empire.

Within the ecliptic, guarded by walls so high that the onlookers were overwhelmed, there were endless buildings of various styles and countless people, crowded and noisy to the point of confusion.

To me, who has spent most of my life in the vast north, this frantic and bustling capital seems stuffy.

Take your eyes off the stuffy scenery and wait for your arrival.

The wagon, which had not been able to speed up because there were many other wagons, stopped after a while at a slow speed.

“Confucius has arrived.”

“yes. Good work.”

When you get off the carriage, you can see a building that is simple compared to the main house, but has a neat style. In front of the mansion where my mother died, attendants and the butler in charge of the capital’s mansion appeared and bowed to me.

“You worked hard to come.”

“yes. Rather, are your brothers inside?”

“Both of you went out in the morning.”

“I get it.”

They live crazy for the glamor and extravagant entertainment of the capital, so there’s no way they’re in the mansion in broad daylight.

Erase the people who don’t feel like family from my head, and take my sword. After sitting in the carriage for seven days and nights, I head to the garden to warm up my frozen body.

The landscape of the garden comes into view, and a sense of bitterness floods in. The flowers in full bloom that I had seen on previous visits were nowhere to be seen, only unknown grasses and original trees.

It changed in just one year, and the sight of spring not being able to be found despite the arrival of spring is bittersweet and nerve-wracking. It’s bitter and nerve-wracking, but I have work to do, so I pull out my sword and unwind.

Even without swinging it a few times, the tip of the sword was heavy and unstable.

Thinking that terrible phenomenon is a lack of training, he ignores it and continues to wield it. The tip of the heavy sword shakes hundreds of times, realizing that it is not a lack of training.

It was because her heart, which had been filled with memories, was shaken by the desolate garden. I don’t like this situation, so I sigh and put my sword in.

In order to sell out in training, to soothe my shaking heart, I moved to my mother’s room.

A room in the left corner on the third floor. It’s not suitable for a hostess to live in, but she opens the door to her mother, who insisted on having a good view of the scenery.

In the room where the owner is gone, only the furniture covered with white cloth is left behind. The bitterness comes from seeing the same appearance as the original family.

Peel off the white cloth in bitterness. And unfamiliar furniture comes into view. Instead of the mother’s furniture, which had a plain style, there are shabby furniture that could only be found in a servant’s room. The sight of it breaks my heart.

A turbulent mind brings out ominous thoughts. Spending by the extravagant older brothers and not enough pocket money. And the missing high-end furniture. My heart beats wildly at that thought.

Wanting to deny that ominous idea, I open the dressing room attached to the room. There is nothing left.

I open the jewelry box where I collected the accessories my mother used to wear. There is nothing left.

I open the box where my mother’s embroidery was stored. Nothing exists.

In the room where there is no trace of her mother, her breath becomes heavy.

I want to deny the current situation with ominous thoughts and sights. Catch a passing attendant.

“Where did the furniture and things mother used go?”

“That is…”

At the servant’s inconsistent words, an ominous feeling grew and oppressed me.

“Don’t hesitate, speak quickly.”

“Confucius disposed of it.”

“… Okay, go.

The ominousness is not wrong, and mocks me for denying it.

Various emotions are entangled and dyed black at the terrible sight, and those emotions are directed to the garbage who forgot their mother.

Keepsakes are traces of that person. It’s like that, but it’s not someone else’s, but it’s my mother’s keepsake, so how can I dispose of it?

1 year. It’s only been a year since my mother passed away. What does a mother mean to them? Aren’t they family too?

Was the luxury enough to dispose of her mother’s belongings in just one year, or did she not see her as a family member?

I don’t know. I can’t understand the thoughts of trash. I don’t want to understand. I don’t want to think of them as brothers anymore. I don’t want to think it’s the same person.

The only string between them and me shakes, and blackened emotions call out to them to vomit themselves. I tremble at that cry, but I endure it because the string shaking as if it will break is stepped on in my eyes.

I hope that my brothers have circumstances because I hope that my mother’s life will not be as miserable as the reality in front of me.

Denying the sight in front of them, suppressing their emotions, they wait for them.

As the time to say goodbye to the sun comes, and the reddened world is exhausted and darkness descends, you can hear the roar of horses.

I hear the voices of my brothers from afar. The emotions that had been erasing in that voice fluctuated. Forcibly suppressing those feelings, he goes down to meet his brothers.

When I come down to the first floor, I can’t see the hyungs. Catch a wandering attendant and ask her whereabouts.

“Where have your brothers gone?”

“You went to the restaurant to eat.”

Open the restaurant door and enter.

The eldest brother, who was a bit skinny with freckles on his face and had blond ponytails, and the second brother, who had gained enough weight to look like two chins, were drinking wine and talking.

“I was able to eat a lot today, but I feel like a beggar because I had bad luck at the last minute.”

“So that is it. At the end of the day, if the tiles stuck together a little better, I would have eaten them all.”

Hearing that, the thought that his mother’s belongings may have been used as gambling funds passes by, and his oppressed heart goes wild. power in the fist

He bites his teeth at the fluctuating emotions and presses them down again.

“Brothers, long time no see.”

My brothers eyes turned to me.

“Yeah, it’s been a while. I heard you got engaged to Princess Iris, so you’ve decided to sell it, congratulations.”

“That’s right. Don’t forget that we opened the door.”

Nausea rises. The words of the first brother who congratulated me that he had done what was a curse to me, and the words of the second brother who told me not to think about and forget what they had done turned my insides upside down.

My stomach upset and I didn’t want to mix things up any more, so I got to the point right away.

“Where are your mother’s belongings?”

“A keepsake? How did you do it? Do you remember Roddick?”

“Um, well. I can’t remember.”

In response to the mother’s belongings being taken lightly, reason screams and is about to cut off. I forcefully hold on to my reason and open my mouth again.

“Think carefully.”

“Um… I don’t remember even thinking about it again. Why are you asking such a thing all of a sudden? Are you in need of some money?”

I lose my mind at the last words of trash, who treats my mother’s belongings as money. Between the disconnected reason, a sense of life rises along with blackened emotions. Momentum flows out in response to liveliness. The momentum oppresses the breath of the untrained scum, and the complexion of the scum turns pale.

“I will ask again. What did you do with your mother’s keepsakes?”

After my question was over, the scum didn’t open their mouths. I don’t know which is the correct answer, whether they really don’t remember, or reading the atmosphere and not opening their mouths. I was just miserable that the traces of my mother were taken so lightly.

To pour out the misery and darkened emotions, I clenched my fist and looked at the trash. In the disgusting and irritating appearance of garbage, traces of mother come into view.

I deny those traces, but I couldn’t deny them. Undeniable, emotions shake. When emotions are shaken, the strength in the fist is released. I hate that and try to tighten my fists, but the image of my mother fades away. And I hear my mother’s words in my memory.

‘It’s because I couldn’t show affection properly, so don’t hate the hyungs too much.’

I feel strange at the words of a mother who stands up for her sons even though they are ignored. A strange feeling makes them think that they shouldn’t vent their feelings. And the thought drains his strength, and his resentment goes astray.

The resentment of getting lost runs rampant and disturbs the mind. In that sense, I forcefully open my mouth.

“… I won’t ask any more. And from now on, I won’t consider you family. So don’t think of me as your brother.”

He spat out words that were too feeble compared to his rampaging anger, and withdrew the momentum that had suppressed the garbage. And he poured out his lost resentment onto an innocent wall. The wall is cracked with a sharp pain in the fist, and the trace of the fist remains.

The scum’s faces turn pale at the sight. I turn my back, not wanting to see such scum again.

The weak footsteps leave the cafeteria and head to the mother’s room.

Even though it is the place of her mother’s death, she sits down in a room where not a single trace remains. And then I vomited up the tangled emotions.

Resentment over the scumbags who took their mother lightly. Sadness and pity for self-reproach defending such scum. And, vomiting out pathetic feelings and hatred toward me for not knowing this situation, I cut off the string connected to my father and the garbage.

With the broken string, a hole was formed in the heart that had been filled with memories, and the unpleasant day came to an end.