In Youth

"I Wish to Die Young, without love or worry, falling like a golden star, rising like a flower that never fades.

"I hope that those long troubled by enmity may find joy with me upon my gravestone.

"Please bury me far from the noisy roads, where weeping willows bend low and tease the ripples, and unharvested leafless beans gleam gold.

"May drowsy poppies bloom, may the wind pass over my head.

"I will not look back upon the road I traveled, nor upon those mad years gone by. When I have sung my final hymn, I will sleep without care.

"But do not let the flames die out completely. Do not forget that woman—she once awakened every heart.

"I Wish to Die Young..."

A steady knock sounded at the door. At Chiba's response, Elu pushed the door open and entered.

"Miss Chiba, you sent for me?"

Chiba turned down the phonograph and handed Elu two documents she had already signed and stamped.

"Yes. Make a trip to Core City. Leave tonight."

Elu accepted them and looked them over, visibly surprised. "...You intend to sell off all the Tanyi City municipal bonds we were holding?"

"Yes. The sooner, the better. Ideally, no more than half a month. Put the liquidated funds into Gray Scale Bank for now and do not touch them. Wait for further news."

"May I ask why?" Elu frowned slightly. "Two years ago, you said these bonds needed to be held for at least ten years, because Tanyi was the most suitable city in all of District 3 for the middle class to retire in. Over the past two years, people have continually moved out of Core City and bought property in Tanyi, proving that your original judgment was correct. If we sell now, our returns will only reach 16% of expectations... no, perhaps not even 10%."

"Of course it is because circumstances have changed." Chiba removed her glasses. "If we get ahead of it, we can at least still sell at a price. Wait any longer, and we will have to take a loss."

Elu did not understand. "What made you change your mind?"

"This is a good place to retire because AHgAs's rookie base is here," Chiba answered unhurriedly. "Everyone believes that, aside from Core City, nowhere in District 3 is safer than this place."

Elu drew a meaningful breath. "...Then this place is about to become unsafe?"

"Who knows?" Chiba rubbed her neck. "People's thoughts always change. Sometimes that does not depend on the facts."

Elu put away the documents.

"Understood. I will set out tonight."

Perhaps because she had recalled too many things from the past that evening, Hesta dreamed once again that night of everything in Duanming Alley.

In a shabby little wooden house, her mother wore a vertically striped apron and was tasting a freshly cooked soup.

After all these years, she saw her mother again.

Her mother had been very young then.

Young and slender.

She still looked as she had before parting from Hesta. A dark green velvet ribbon tied her shoulder-length soft hair into a bundle that fell over her right shoulder along her long, slender neck.

Her shoulders were as slight as a bird's.

Her mother's hair was dark brown at that moment—so was Hesta's. They had dyed it that color later, though a faint fiery red could still be seen at the roots. After all, if they wanted to hide safely among the masses, some necessary disguises had to be made.

No matter where they were, red hair like theirs was far too conspicuous.

Looking around, Hesta discovered that she was sitting on a little green wooden stool. She remembered picking it up from the No. 16 dump near Duanming Alley. Old Charlie had helped her repair a stool leg that had rotted in the rain and had even found half a bucket of paint.

She had painted the little stool green with her own hands before giving it to her mother.

The table at home was an empty wine barrel topped with a semicircular wooden board. They had secured them together with hammers and nails. Her mother spread a tablecloth over it, making it truly resemble a small tea table.

Beneath the tea table lay a thick velvet rug, worn somewhat rough from being stepped on. Her mother had deliberately sewn together more than a dozen pale green scraps of different materials—bed sheets, old coats, canvas bags, long and short skirts. The patterns of the materials themselves brought a lively clash to the patchwork.

On the tabletop, a paper flower made from wire and cardstock was stuck into a sponge base. The little silver key connected to Boheng lay beside it, and a battered copy of Edgar's Dark Tales Collection: Volume One rested close against the paper flower.

She reached out and gently touched the sponge flower stand her mother had made by hand.

Thank goodness. All the important things were still here.

This had to be a dream.

Hesta realized it quickly.

But please, do not wake up yet.

In Duanming Alley, Hesta often heard her mother talk about her former life in District 14. Her mother missed everything about the past—though the climate in northern District 14 was far less pleasant than it was here.

She had heard that winters there were extremely long. From October of one year to April of the next, the heavy snow hardly melted. Yet winter was a time for chatting and reading around the stove, so life was not lonely.

Her mother often spoke of a room she had as a child, arranged entirely according to the descriptions in Edgar's novels: a wooden tea table, dark green cast-iron chairs, a green polka-dot carpet, white curtains hanging perpendicular to the ground...

And her mother's mother would often sit beside that same tea table with her on winter afternoons and read together.

Those scenes from the past were like her mother's "anchor." They held fast to her, ensuring she always remembered who she was and where she had come from.

Unfortunately, paper books were nearly impossible to find in Duanming Alley. During their free time, mother and daughter could only sit by the tea table and read old newspapers—until one day, by a truly fortunate coincidence, they received a copy of Edgar's Dark Tales Collection: Volume One from Old Charlie.

Her mother traded two months of her meager wages to Old Charlie for the book, and Old Charlie readily agreed.

This Dark Tales Collection was a translated edition from District 14. Its characters were square and orderly, completely unlike the writing found in Duanming Alley.

On countless days and nights, her mother and Hesta sat around the little tea table. The book had served as her first lesson in literacy. Sometimes she listened as her mother read stories and explained words; sometimes she copied out the beautiful sentences marked for emphasis.

In the dream, Hesta lowered her head once more and pressed her cheek against the tabletop.

She gripped the edge of the table with both hands—whenever she lay down like this, her gaze always happened to fall directly before the stove.

Steam curled up from the stove.

Her mother hummed a song.

Hesta swung her feet. Beneath them, the patchwork rug sewn by her mother brushed against her warm soles.

There should really be a glass bell jar, Hesta thought. Otherwise, something would still be missing.

Thanks to Blue Pass Without Horses and Shihwei 212 for the monthly tickets~