TFOA Chapter 12

Greta was the same way.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm... going home."

"Hmm. I'm going to Helen's house."

"The house next to it with the purple mailbox is our house. It's a ranch."

After hurriedly saying goodbye, it turned out their destinations were the same, so they had to accompany each other even more awkwardly than when they'd met at the hall.

Niksi wanted to ask Greta all sorts of things, but if she pestered someone who was like a timid cat, there would probably be more harm than good.

She might never see her face again in this narrow rural corner.

While unable to do this or that, they arrived at their destination.

Just then, the red coral-colored hair she'd been waiting for was swaying ahead of them.

"You're here? This time I really made it delicious. Forget about that pickled-salt-like salty stew from earlier. Oh my, Greta's here too?"

Helen was holding the pot itself, showing just how much stew she had made.

The fragrant smell of flour and milk wafted up. The appetite-stimulating scent unique to moderately hot liquids.

Niksi downed the cup of stew Helen offered her to taste.

It was moderately salty with the sweetness of onions remaining - quite filling and made her want beer.

"It's delicious. But who is this...?"

Next to Helen stood a middle-aged woman with black hair similar to Greta's.

Helen introduced her as Greta's mother and her own friend, adding that she ran a sheep ranch over that hill.

"I'm Karen. I run a sheep ranch."

"Your mother? I thought you were sisters."

"Oh my, such flattery. If you need fabric, let me know."

Karen covered her mouth and laughed at Niksi's joke.

Since Niksi had no cotton clothes for winter, she resolved to become friends with Greta by any means necessary.

"But Helen, why did you make so much stew? Is today some special day like Stew Day?"

"No way! I kept adding milk to adjust the seasoning and it got bigger."

It wasn't just ordinarily salty.

Pat pat. Helen tapped the pot, saying she had borrowed carrots and onions from Raul for the stew to deal with the increased amount.

"So today I'm taking stew to Raul's bar. The customers should stop eating sausages and try healthy milk stew. With a little salmon added."

Helen grinned good-naturedly.

She'd been wanting dark beer anyway. She also planned to pick up Gilbert, who would be passing by Raul's place around this time.

"Th-then I'll take it to Raul...!"

"Really? Then I'll take it..."

Greta, who had been quiet until then, spoke up at the same time as Niksi. Niksi stopped mid-lift of the pot and blinked at Greta.

Greta had definitely been enchanted by the taste of the milk stew (with a little salmon added).

Otherwise, there was no way Greta, who had shown signs of discomfort during their brief walk from the hall to Helen's house, would chase after her to Raul's bar carrying stew.

And so eagerly, like a puppy waiting for treats!

Niksi watched Greta struggling to carry the pot.

Though she insisted on trying to carry it herself despite it being heavy, it was taking a full minute to go ten meters.

At this rate, winter would come faster than the stew delivery.

Eventually Niksi took the pot from Greta and carried it easily. Greta couldn't say anything and just struggled to keep up.

"Welcome."

"Raul! Delivery!"

"Ah, hello..."

The bell on the bar door rang—jingle jangle.

Niksi called out to Raul energetically. The shop was bustling with customers who came for dinner.

"Friendly neighbor Niksi. How many percent will you help our shop's sales today?"

"Unfortunately 0% today. I didn't bring money."

"That's too bad. But our shop can also put things on tab. Oh, Miss Greta. Nice to see you."

Raul greeted Greta, who was following right behind Niksi.

Then Greta's nape turned red like a ripe tomato.

"Oho?"

Niksi, who had set the pot down at the seat closest to the counter, narrowed her eyes at the sight.

Isn't that obviously that thing? Even when drunk and not in your right mind, it's clearly that. It's that, that thing.

Gilbert, who by Niksi's calculations always passed by Raul's bar around this time, was indeed passing by the bar just then.

Normally he would just greet Raul and pass by, but he tilted his head at the unusual combination of the sunflower neighbor and the village elite Greta at the counter.

He approached Niksi, who was standing next to the counter, while brushing dirt off his gloves.

Niksi had an expression like a boy watching ant mating. In short, a mischievously sly face.

"Nik...si?"

"Oh. Gil."

"What's... happening?"

Why such a suspicious face? So unsettling. Gilbert swallowed the rest of his words.

Niksi was now watching Greta with her arms folded.

Meanwhile, Greta was having a weird conversation with Raul that kept breaking off.

"Have you had dinner?"

"I ate something simple. How about you, Miss Greta?"

"Oh, your shirt looks nice today too."

"Thank you. If you haven't eaten yet, shall I simply stir-fry some vegetables for you?"

What a strange conversation where they couldn't communicate but somehow didn't break off.

"Gil, that thing. Isn't that that thing?"

"Huh?"

"Love."

Niksi spoke in a grandmother-like tone.

Gilbert glanced at Niksi. For some reason, it was a tone that made him want to pinch her nose.

"Hmph."

"Right? Anyone can see it's the face of a girl in love."

Right. The extremely loud Niksi and the quiet, timid Greta. It was certainly an unusual combination.

Gilbert chuckled softly at Niksi's whisper.

Like a sparrow that can't just pass by a mill, this curious neighbor was someone who couldn't just pass by interesting situations.

Gilbert ordered two beers and sat next to Niksi. Then he leaned toward her so only she could hear.

Actually, Greta's unrequited love was famous in the village.

That epic saga had started six years ago when Raul was a Latin teacher.

Villagers openly said things like 'Is Greta still chasing after him?' but Raul himself hadn't noticed.

"So Greta doesn't talk much with other people, but when it comes to Raul, she becomes talkative. The problem is her points are slightly off because she's nervous."

"Really? Raul still hasn't noticed? Even I, who knows nothing, can tell."

"Shh. Niksi... your voice is too loud."

Well. Raul seemed to be pretending not to know.

Gilbert took a sip of beer. Raul clearly saw Greta as nothing more than a cute little lady.

That "yes, yes" expression was the face he used to make at his babbling little sister when she was small.

"Gil. I've made up my mind."

"About what?"

"I'm going to make Greta's unrequited love come true."

Oh my. There's another little lady here. Gilbert let out a small sigh.

"How?"

"Hmm, good question, how?"

"Do you know what love is?"

"Of course. It's when the whole world looks like hearts."

Not wrong, but he didn't know where to start correcting her.

There was a reason villagers didn't actively support Greta's famous unrequited love.

They were afraid Greta's unrequited love would end in frustration.

If that happened, Greta might drown in tears, or Raul might end up buried.

Of course, if it came true, it would be putting a period on a six-year grand march... but if they broke up, Raul could get buried, or Greta might go completely mad.

"You know, love is more complicated than it looks, Niksi."

"I've known for a long time that human psychology is complicated. I don't understand it even when reading papers or academic books. But I want to help. I want to become friends with Greta."

'Help? Want to become friends?'

Greta just has bad social anxiety, but she's a nice friend who doesn't push away people who approach her, so the barrier to becoming friends isn't high. Actually, if she didn't help and just left things alone, she could become friends.

However, from the moment she brought up "love," this friendly neighbor had been declaring with her eyes "I won't listen to anyone!" and there seemed to be no way to stop her.

Gilbert stared at Niksi, who was sitting with her chin propped up, eyes sparkling.

"How about learning what love is first?"

"Love?"

"Yeah."

That sounds fun. Niksi murmured.

"So Gilbert, you're joining my romantic grand strategy too?"

Niksi asked. Gilbert nodded while thinking about what he had to do tomorrow.

He was done with the crops that needed immediate planting, and tomorrow there was that thing left.

Writing fortunes for Auvers' daffodil festival.

"If you help me write fortunes tomorrow."

"What's that?"

"The daffodil festival is coming up soon - a festival to celebrate surviving the harsh winter and prepare for spring while praying for a good year's harvest."

A festival where you eat daffodil-shaped pudding while scattering flower-shaped folded papers throughout the village.

Inside the flower-shaped papers, they write yearly fortunes like 'good health and longevity,' 'abundant harvest,' 'peace.'

What Gilbert had to do tomorrow was write fortunes on a hundred palm-sized papers. But he was troubled because he couldn't do it.

"Sounds fun. ...Listen, Gil."

"I have to tell you though, you can only write good fortunes."

Niksi made a sulky expression.

"But if fortunes only have good things, it's no fun. Life isn't that easy."

"What were you planning to write?"

"One potato will grow shaped like Hitler's face."

"No way. Do you want to see dozens of bullets buried in one potato?"

"The village would become famous right away. Then that's no fun. Gilbert, write them all by yourself."

Gilbert just laughed at Niksi's grumpy words.

Love. Spring. Flowers. Festival. Daffodils.

To Niksi, those words were gentle words that somehow tickled a corner of her heart.

She didn't know exactly what it was, but it was like that long-learned tickling sensation of naturally thinking of light pink when thinking of spring.

"I can't write."

"Huh?"

At his words, Niksi asked back. Instead of answering, he tap tap tapped the academic book on the counter. It was the one Niksi had borrowed.

"I never learned how to write. I'm also really bad at coming up with good words. So I need someone who can write decent words. For example, instead of Hitler... 'You will harvest a chick-shaped potato.'..."

"..."

"...'The whole world will look like hearts.' Things like that."

Gilbert said.

▶ Today's Harvest
Wheat beer, salmon stew with plenty of cream, someone's unrequited love

▶ Overall Review
Salmon really does have that rich taste!