Margo sat by the window, turning the book to the final page.
She had read the page where the Little Prince falls over and over again.
The snake bites his ankle, his ankle emits a yellow light, and he falls—gently, like a tree toppling onto the ground.
She didn't know if he had made it back, but she knew he would, because he had promised.
There was a knock on the door.
Margo closed the book and opened the door. Akemi Yamada stood there, folder in hand, a look of relief and a smile on her face.
"Margo, there's good news." She knelt down to be at eye level with Margo.
"A family is willing to adopt you. A young couple, no children. They saw your profile and like you very much. They are well-off, and they can co pick you up next week. Don't worry, our staff will conduct regular follow-up visits; if there are any problems, tell us imdiately."
A pause.
"They will give you a real ho," Yamada Akemi said. "A mother and father, your own room, and..."
"I'm not going," Margo interrupted her.
Yamada Akemi froze.
"But... why?"
"I don't want to leave here. It's good here.
This is my ho. Hachiman is here."
Yamada Akemi fell silent.
"Margo," she said, "Hachiman... he can't stay with you forever. He has his own life, his own family. You... you can't rely on him forever." Yamada Akemi looked at the determination in her eyes; her lips moved as if she wanted to say sothing, but she swallowed it back.
She stood up and sighed.
"Then you tell him yourself."
-
-
-
That afternoon, Hachiman ca. When he walked into the yard, Margo didn't run down as she usually did.
She sat by the window and watched him enter the iron gate, cross the yard, and stand below. He looked up, saw her at the window, and paused for a mont.
Then he ca upstairs. The staircase was narrow and the lighting dim; every step he took made a creaking sound. Margo listened to that sound—step by step, getting closer and closer. She gripped the hem of her skirt.
The door wasn't closed. He stood in the doorway looking at her, those dead-fish eyes still devoid of expression, sa as always.
"Why aren't you going?" he asked.
"Because I don't want to."
"There's a yard there, and responsible parents. It's better than staying here."
"There's a yard here too." She paused. "The yard has trees, a swing, and a slide. As for parents... I don't need them anymore."
He didn't speak. She watched him, waiting for him to say sothing.
He said nothing, just sat there looking out the window. The leaves on the trees had already begun to turn yellow; when the wind blew, a few drifted down.
"Hikigaya."
"Yeah?"
"Do you want to go?"
He didn't answer.
She waited a mont and asked again: "Do you think it's better for to go there than to stay here?"
She stood up, walked over to him, and looked down at him. He looked up, his eyes still expressionless.
"Say sothing," she said.
"You should go. It's for your own good."
She looked at him for a long ti, then she smiled.
"Fine. I'll listen to you. I'll go."
Hachiman lowered his head, avoiding her gaze.
"But you have to promise one thing."
"What?"
She crouched down and untied her shoelaces, then tied them back together crookedly—one side long and the other short, just as they were every ti before he arrived.
She looked up at him.
"You tie my laces for ."
He looked down at her shoes; the laces were dragging on the ground, crumpled. He crouched down, gripped the laces, looped them once, then twice, and pulled tight.
Both sides were the sa length; the loops of the butterfly bow were the sa size.
"Done," he said.
She looked down at her shoes. They were tied as beautifully as before. She pulled her foot back, hiding it under the hem of her skirt.
"Hikigaya."
"Yeah?"
"Will you co find ?"
Hachiman was silent for a while, then nodded.
"I will," he said. Only two words, very quiet.
Margo smiled. She reached into her pocket and felt the long candy wrapper. The orange was no longer clearly visible; it was crumpled, thin, as if it would break at any mont.
She didn't take it out, just gently traced its outline with her finger.
"Liar," she said.
She stood up and walked to him. The sunlight from the window shone in, casting a long shadow on the floor.
"Hikigaya, I hate you."
"Even if you say that..."
"I really hate you."
"Taking it out on won't help..."
"I hate you, I hate you."
"...Fine. Then I hate you too."
"No!"
She reached out and grabbed his sleeve. The fabric was old, washed thin, and there were frayed threads at the cuff.
"You lied to . I know it. You said you'd co find , but you won't."
He looked down at her hand—tiny, her fingers as thin as pencils.
"Correct. I lied to you. I won't co."
"Why?"
"Because it's a hassle. Your new ho is far away. It takes two hours by train with three transfers. Besides, I hate going out."
Margo let go of his arm. She took a step back and looked at him.
"Hikigaya."
"Yeah?"
"You're a liar."
"...Yeah."
"A big liar."
"Mhm."
She turned around, her back to him. Tears fell, dripping onto the cover of the book and spreading into a small dark stain.
"Go away. I don't want to see you anymore."
Hachiman didn't move. He stood by the window, looking at her small, thin back.
"Margo."
"What?"
"When you get to your new ho... eat well."
"None of your business."
"Cover yourself with a blanket when you sleep."
"So annoying."
"If... if soone bullies you, tell an adult."
Margo turned around, her eyes red.
"Aren't you not going to co find ? Then why do you care?"
Hachiman looked at her for a long ti.
He turned and headed for the door. The staircase was narrow and the lighting dim; he stepped on the stairs, and they creaked.
Step by step, getting further away.
Margo listened to the sound until it vanished completely. She went to the window and watched him exit the iron gate, cross the street, and disappear around the corner.
She looked down at her shoelaces. They were tied beautifully—even on both sides, with loops perfectly matched.
She crouched down, untied the lace on one shoe, and tied it herself once more—crookedly, one side long and the other short, just as it had been every ti before he arrived.
The light from the corridor leaked through the gap under the door, drawing a thin line on the wall. She reached into her pocket and felt the long candy wrapper; she didn't take it out, just gently traced its outline with her finger.
She sat back on the chair by the windowsill, staring blankly at the now-dry book cover.
The wind blew in from the window, flipping the pages of the book on the desk until it reached the page where the Little Prince leaves.
The fox said: "You beco responsible, forever, for what you have tad."
Margo looked down at that line for a long ti.
Then she smiled, and her tears fell again.
"Liar," she whispered. "Both are liars."
Read ahead (60 chapters) by supporting on buyacoffee com/varietl or ko-fi edwriting
User Comments
0 comments from readers