Chapter 4 : Sweet Tea

I wanted a cup of warm tea.

It didn’t mean anything.

I knew full well that I wouldn’t taste anything even if I drank it.

But did I want the freedom to drink a cup of tea at any time here, or was it just a wish to not go back to those days?

I don’t know why, but just by getting a cup of tea, I could feel the illusion that my hole in my heart was filled a little.

“Then bring me the tea right now. If your skills are terrible, I might not want to be here.”

The air in the room froze for a moment.

The sound of the chain moving softly spread through the silence.

My words were a simple request, but it must have been an unexpected reaction for the woman, as she blinked her big eyes and looked at me.

After a moment of confusion, a strangely bright smile soon spread across her face.

It was like a rose in full bloom.

“Tea… I see, you want tea.”

The woman nodded slowly, muttering softly.

Then, as if she had received a long-awaited request, she spoke in a joyful and excited voice.

“Of course, Peridot. I will prepare the best tea, so just leave it to me.”

She looked extremely excited.

Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes sparkled with anticipation.

“What kind of tea do you like? Herbal tea? Black tea? Or should I make it myself?”

Questions poured out without stopping.

Her voice was sincere, but even that sincerity was completely unimportant to me.

All that remained were the passing time and the meaningless scent of roses that filled this space.

So I ordered the familiar tea I always drank.

“Black tea, please. With sugar to make it sweet.”

After hearing my answer, the woman no longer looked at me in chains.

Instead, as if lost in her own world, she began to move busily around the room.

The soft lace made a soft rustling sound along the hem.

The way she carefully took out the tea set on the table, opened the drawer, and took out various tea leaves and laid them out was filled with a strange obsession and sincerity at the same time.

The face of the woman, smelling each scent and checking the color, seemed like that of a craftsman pursuing perfection.

“You shouldn’t be disappointed in my craftsmanship, Peridot.”

The voice she muttered as if talking to herself was filled with excitement and affection.

However, both her words and actions felt empty and distant.

In the end, what kind of response could I give her?

There was only indifferent silence.

The sugar cubes fell into the liquid, and the spoon touched the teacup, making a clear sound.

Finally, the woman prepared the tea and approached me.

Holding the teacup with warm steam rising from it in both hands, she slowly and respectfully knelt before me.

The teacup in her white hands shone like a jewel, and her purple eyes were filled with anticipation and tension.

“Now, Peridot. Please taste it.”

She slowly and carefully held out the teacup.

Her earnest gaze was directed only at me.

Without any special expectations or feelings of resistance, she accepted the teacup and lifted it with a familiar movement.

The faint, faint scent of the tea leaves reached the tip of her nose.

But I already knew.

No matter what the tea was, it would have no meaning to me.

A familiar emptiness brushed the tip of my tongue from the teacup I brought to my lips.

I wasn’t disappointed.

The soliloquy she uttered in a low voice, as if she hadn’t even expected it, contained my old resignation.

“…It doesn’t taste like anything, after all.”

The woman’s movements stopped for a moment.

The air in the room seemed to have stopped for a moment.

Her purple eyes vibrated, and confusion and faint shock passed through them.

“Does that mean it doesn’t taste like anything?”

Disappointment was evident in her trembling voice.

Did she feel like the fruits of her labor were being ignored?

I shook my head and added with a blank expression.

“No. It’s definitely a well-made tea.”

I said with a bitter smile.

In the end, I knew that I couldn’t even enjoy a cup of sweet tea.

All I could feel was a faint scent and the warmth of the teacup.

“I just can’t taste anything.”

The moment she heard me, the woman froze in place.

She looked dumbfounded, as if she had heard something completely unexpected.

But soon, a new interest came into her eyes.

With a single gesture, the woman made a blue rose bloom in the air.

A transparent magical power flowed through the petals, shining softly.

She carefully scooped up a drop of honey on the rose petal into a teaspoon and dropped it into the tea,
and the honey slowly soaked into the teacup, turning it golden.

“So, how about this time, Peridot?”

I lifted my cup again.

The scent of the tea leaves was stronger than before, but I still had no particular expectations.

However, the moment I took a sip of the honey-infused tea, an unfamiliar thrill ran through my whole body.

A strong and intense sweetness captured the tip of my tongue.

It was a sweetness that even I, who had almost lost my sense of taste, could clearly feel.

It was a strange experience, as if the emptiness I had felt for a long time had been pushed away in an instant, and a sense that I had forgotten came back to life.

As I put down my empty teacup, I saw her smiling brightly, and looking satisfied, as if she had confirmed that her efforts had borne fruit.

Her red hair glowed softly in the sunlight, and her appearance resembled a painting, so my gaze was briefly drawn to her.

I wonder if the sweetness lingering faintly on the tip of my tongue was causing an impulse.

I had never wanted anything because I had lived a life of being taken away,
but I was surprised at how naturally I asked for it.

“Please give me more.”

It was a faint but clear desire.

The woman’s eyes shone brightly.

As if moved by my small reaction, her fingertips turned back to the teapot.

As the flower petals bloomed, a drop of honey fell, and the golden tea was completed.

“Please savor it slowly and enjoy it.”

I looked into her purple eyes, savoring the sweetness.

I still could not completely believe or accept this room, this woman, and even this moment.

However, I could not deny the aftertaste that that single sip of tea left behind.

It was a very small change, but it brought up emotions that I had not realized myself,
as if something inside me, even if very faintly, was trying to regain the name of anticipation.

The sound of the empty teacup being put down resonated clearly in the room.

The woman’s gaze deepened at that small echo.

A gentle ripple occurred in her purple eyes.

The faint smile on her lips seemed to be a moment when her old longing was gradually becoming reality.

The air in the room slowly but strangely changed.

The warm sunlight soaked into my skin stickily, and the scent of roses grew stronger.

“…Thank you.”

A soft voice leaked out from my mouth.

It was a short word.

However, the words sent some kind of ripple through the woman’s heart,
She bit her lips slightly and blinked her eyes slowly.

She looked pitiful, as if she was trying to suppress her long-held emotions.

“I never thought I would hear those words from Peridot-sama.”

Her voice was filled with surprise and trembling.

The woman shifted her gaze to my hand.

Her shadow fell over the back of my hand.

I felt her touch in the cold air.

A careful yet gentle touch spread across my skin.

The woman took a deep breath and exhaled.

The slight trembling of her fingertips felt like touching a piece of glass.

“Did you really tell me that you were grateful?”

Her voice was filled with earnestness.

As if the voice of a child wanting to confirm the most important thing in the world.

“I’m serious.”

In the midst of the strangely alien feeling of the place where the woman’s hand touched, an unfamiliar emptiness suddenly came to mind again.

A feeling that something should be in my hand.

It was the absence of the cane I always carried.

I turned my eyes and looked around the room, but I couldn’t see the cane, and that fact left a small discomfort inside me.

“By any chance, the cane I always carried… is not here?”

The voice echoed through the room, and the woman blinked her eyes wide in surprise.

For a moment, she seemed to remember something, and then let out a small exclamation of

“Ah.”

“Are you talking about the cane?”

The woman stood up and walked into the room with graceful gestures.

Her steps were like those of a dancer on stage, and where she pointed with her fingertips was a long box with a delicate red rose pattern.

The box opened slowly, and inside was a familiar-looking cane.

A small red jewel on the tip of the pure white, thin cane glowed calmly.

The woman’s hands that took out the cane were delicate and gentle, as if she was handling the most precious treasure.

She slowly walked toward me and politely held out the cane with both hands.

“Of course I brought it, Peridot. It’s something you always carry with you. I was the first to bring it, in case you were anxious.”

The voice was still sweet and soft, but there was a sticky and languid feeling somewhere.

The rose scent seemed to be coming out more strongly.

When I picked up the cane, I felt a sense of relief at the familiar feeling in my hand.

Since it was a cane that had been with me for several years, I felt the feeling of the bones in my palm,
and the slight trembling of the red jewel embedded in the tip, and finally I felt a sense of stability, as if I had regained a part of my body.

It was an unfamiliar comfort, as if I was putting down a burden that I had been carrying for a long time.