Chapter 40: Questions That Must Be Asked

“Alright, alright, just stir it well,” Lena said, waving her hand. “Next is the shaking.”

They both picked up their cups and covered the openings with lids.

Flora’s movements remained restrained, shaking the cup up and down in small motions.

Lena couldn’t help herself when she saw it.

“No, no, that won’t work.”

“Then how should I do it?”

“Like this.”

Lena gave a demonstration. With a flick of her wrist, the cup drew a small arc in the air.

“… It’s going to fly out, isn’t it?”

“It won’t, look!”

Just as she finished speaking, the liquid inside the cup *thudded* against the walls.

Flora instinctively reached out to steady her hand.

“Slow down, slow down! I feel like it’s about to spill,” Flora said anxiously.

“Oh, it won’t. You try it too.”

Flora had no choice but to start shaking, though she was just as cautious as she had been when stirring.

The liquid tumbled inside the cup, its color gradually becoming even and translucent.

“Stop!” Lena said.

The two of them stopped at the same time.

“There.” Lena glanced at them. “You can drink it now.”

Flora took a sip of her own first.

She frowned slightly and took another sip.

“How is it?”

“It’s not bad.”

“That’s it?”

“The sweet and sour are balanced, but… it’s ordinary.”

Lena nodded. “That’s fine then.”

Then she drank from her own cup. Her eyes visibly lit up.

“Wow.”

“This one is good.”

She handed the cup to Flora.

Flora took it and took a sip.

***

A second later, she froze.

The initial taste was the tartness of lime, which was immediately supported by a soft sweetness. The flavor was fresh, and a refreshing coolness even traveled down her throat.

“It’s delicious!”

“Right?”

“It’s better than mine.”

She looked down at the two drinks.

Her own cup had an ordinary color.

Lena’s cup… actually had a faint shimmer under the light.

“Wait.” Flora narrowed her eyes. “This cup of yours is glowing.”

Lena also looked down.

“Is there a Quality Grade even for making drinks?”

“Maybe it’s just a matter of how it felt in my hand?” Lena looked innocent.

Flora remained silent for two seconds, then suddenly smiled.

“I’ll try again when I have the chance.”

“I’ll teach you next time,” Lena said, laughing happily.

***

A while later, Flora returned to her room.

Only then did she realize, with a sense of delayed awareness, that she had truly relaxed.

She closed the door. Her movements were no longer so light, and she didn’t even check to see if anyone was watching her.

The sound of her heels clicking on the floor was a bit clearer, and she didn’t immediately try to soften it.

She walked to the desk and put down the things in her hand, her shoulders relaxing along with the movement.

It was as if a string that had been pulled taut finally loosened. Her movements were fluid and natural.

She sat down in the chair and leaned against the backrest, her breathing slowing down. The light from outside reflected off the glass, and the soft glow caressed Flora’s body.

She felt as if every part of her was being soaked in warm water, leaving her exceptionally relaxed.

She only now realized that she hadn’t felt this way in a long time.

The first thing that surfaced in her mind was the scene in the kitchen just now.

The cup being shaken so cautiously that the surface of the water barely rippled.

Lena laughing while telling her, “Don’t be so careful.” And finally, the drink she had mixed herself, which really couldn’t be called good.

Thinking of this, the corners of her mouth curled up involuntarily.

‘Maybe this place is alright too.’

But it was also at this moment that she suddenly remembered something.

She looked down at her fingers. Her knuckles were slender, her movements quiet. She wasn’t using any force, nor were they trembling.

She had thought about this a little bit last night, but she had deliberately avoided it. This morning’s trip to the library and other things had temporarily occupied her mind, so she hadn’t remembered it for a while.

Now that she had begun to rest and had relaxed significantly, this matter slowly floated to the surface.

She still instinctively wanted to avoid it.

She stood up and walked to the window, opening it to let the wind blow in. The air was slightly cool, and as it brushed against her cheeks, it made her feel much more awake.

But that matter wasn’t blown away by the wind.

More than half of the day had already passed, and she still hadn’t asked about it.

She certainly knew what she should ask.

She had even thought about the questions themselves in her heart more than once.

‘How are they doing?’

‘Did Ilya do anything to them?’

‘Is my sister… alright now?’

The focus of these questions was too clear — so clear that she felt it might be dangerous to speak them aloud.

Flora slowly exhaled.

She was hesitant, of course, because she didn’t dare to ask.

If the answer was even more cruel than she had imagined, how would she accept it? Would she even have the right to be disappointed?

She leaned her forehead gently against the window frame and closed her eyes for a moment.

There was another reason she was unwilling to admit.

She didn’t want to ruin her current state.

She didn’t want to ruin the feeling that had begun to resemble “life.”

If she asked, and if the answer was too heavy, then all of her relaxation today would vanish. It might even…

But she also knew clearly that this matter could not be put off indefinitely.

She could delay it for a day, or two days.

But she couldn’t pretend forever that she hadn’t remembered.

‘I at least need to know,’ she told herself in her heart.

***

The dinner today began very quietly.

It wasn’t the kind of silence where voices were deliberately lowered, but rather the kind that blended into the environment.

The lighting in the dining room wasn’t very bright, with a warm tone. The utensils and food were already set out on the long table, arranged perfectly.

Flora paused in front of her seat before sitting down.

Her movements still instinctively maintained the proper rhythm of etiquette. The sound of pulling the chair was neither too loud nor too soft, and she straightened her skirt until there were no extra creases.

Even though her mind was a mess, her body still remembered what to do.

She didn’t deliberately look at Ilya.

But she knew she was right across from her; she only had to look up to see her.

Flora looked down at the food on her plate. The color, arrangement, and scent were all familiar. During this time, she had gradually grown accustomed to such a dining table.

She picked up her utensils but didn’t move immediately.

She realized her fingers were gripping them a bit too hard.

She was nervous, of course.

It could even be said that from the moment she sat down, her attention was no longer entirely on eating.

Because she had been hesitating — if she asked now, would it seem too abrupt?

If she didn’t ask, how much longer would she keep running away?

She took a small bite of food and swallowed it without much chewing.

She didn’t even taste it.

Ilya didn’t say anything. She seemed to have noticed something, yet she wasn’t in a hurry to speak. She just ate quietly, her rhythm steady.

The thought made Flora’s heart tighten.

There was a high probability that Ilya had known all along that she would eventually ask.

Perhaps she was waiting for her to ask right now.

Flora lowered her head and took another bite, this time forcing herself to slow down. She had to make her movements look normal; otherwise, she wouldn’t even have the courage to speak.

She repeated the sentence in her mind.

‘How is my sister doing?’

She had rehearsed this sentence countless times in her head, but when it was time to actually say it, her throat felt as if it were blocked by something.

She suddenly realized that this wasn’t just a question.

It was a boundary.

Once she asked, it meant she was formally bringing Owen’s world here, to this dining table, and before Ilya.

She wasn’t sure if she was ready.

But she also knew very well that she couldn’t remain unready forever.

Flora put down her utensils.

The movement wasn’t sudden, but it was obvious enough.

She looked up and faced Ilya.

In that moment, her heart was beating so fast she could barely hear her own breathing.

“… Ilya,” she said, her voice a bit steadier than she had expected.