Fake Cinderella

I was dreaming.

I was in a dream, and I understood it was a dream.

(... because this isn't 'me' right now)

Much smaller hands than now.

This hand is not mine now.

(nails not done and skin colours are different)

Because I barely go outside, I don't care about whitening, but the color of Altirier's skin is white so that my skin is clear.

(This is Asae's hand...)

And what spreads in front of you is the view that you're never supposed to see today.

(This isn't Dardinia)

Not somewhere in the royal palace, if not in the garden of the royal princess palace.

And I'm not riding my own carriage that creates luxury and takes into account my living environment.

(It's my dad's pussy light tiger...)

Hard sheet...... then I smell just a little raw fish.

"Damn, this is fucked up."

I heard a voice.

A voice so nostalgic that it trembles.

With hesitation, I looked up at the driver's seat, and there was my father, as I remember him.

(... Dad...)

Together, snow falling so hard that the windshield seemed bright white...... that was enough momentum to say blizzard already.

(This, probably, was then...)

I think he was a freshman or sophomore in elementary school.

I used to go with my father to deliver things to neighboring towns.

It was around the time when signs of late spring were being seen even in Hokkaido, which is said to be in different seasons than in Honshu. Still, many cold days to say it was completely spring and I couldn't let go of my long sleeves, but the bumping down coat was just putting it out for cleaning.

The light truck my father uses at work has a slightly higher eye than a regular car. I used to follow my father's deliveries when I was young because it was fun to climb up to the passenger seat and see a different sight.

"Daddy?"

"Maye, take a look. The snow is making me lose sight of the road."

I felt just a little scared by the momentum of the snow so intense.

But I looked up at my neighbor's father, and I was relieved.

(... I have a dad, go)

To me young, my father was stronger than anyone else. With my father, there was nothing to be afraid of.

To his bright white vision, my father held the handle carefully, speeding to a cursory walking speed.

"'Cause I'm gonna pull over at the vending machine up ahead"

"Yes."

I know exactly where and what it is because it's a road I go through many times.

Still, in this weather, the landscape I should have been used to looked like a different world.

"You're completely white. … even though it's already there"

"Right. If this is the case, I wish I'd done it tomorrow."

A small vacant lot with just two vending machines lined up… If you let the car go along that wall of space with just two vending machines lined up along the shore wall, the passenger seat side can escape the snow pounding hard.

What sounds like a goose is probably the sound of a wave, just a little thinner and grabbing my father's jamber sleeve. My father stroked my head like it was okay.

There's not that much snow around here. Instead, it gets very cold, but there are no snowstorm days like this many times a year.

Besides, it's April. It is tremendously unusual to have such amazing snow in April even though Hokkaido.

"Kuruma, I wonder if the snow will do well?

"When I'm about to bury you, my dad's gonna snow. It's loaded with scoops."

I'm glad I didn't put it back on my normal tire, I wasn't sure what my father meant by grunting at this time.

However, for now, I found out that I still can't go home to us.

"Wait a minute."

My father leaves the car. In the hands of my father, who came back slightly, there was the usual cocoa and the usual can of milk coffee.

"Yes, Maye."

"Thanks, Dad"

Receive a can of hot cocoa by the hands of gloves. I had my pull top open and took a sip as I was huffy.

The intense sweetness and warmth of the cocoa warms my heart.

And once I was relieved, it was about the other family to guide me.

"Mommy, you must be puffy"

"Right."

At that time, cell phones were not yet popular at all, so much so that some wealthy people equipped their cars with what they called mobile phones, even pokebells, were not common.

Even if I suddenly couldn't get home like this, I couldn't tell you that or explain why.

(... you know, maybe a little like now)

The main means of communication in Dardinia is letters.

The postal delivery network seems to be quite developed, and the postal carriage is said to be experiencing special conveniences.

However, because it does not weigh on speed, it seems that I will return before the letter arrives.

Between the nobles, there are servants of roles such as messengers and usage numbers, thinking about accuracy and speed, but in some cases they say there is also a means of being a biographical dove.

Because of that state of affairs, the physical distance is almost proportional to the speed of information transmission as it is.

In modern Japan, the popularity of mobile phones has allowed us to contact each other without time differences, but in Dardinia such things are only dreams again.

(Sometimes I do wish I had a cell phone...)

I wonder if we could get in touch more seriously and spend some time together.

(That way you can go for a night snack or something... you think you can make more use of your skimmer time)

Not my skimmer time, of course. It's skimmer time for the busiest people in Dardinia.

(But that's not the primary reason I want to contact you)

I just want to hear your voice.

I just want to talk.

Like this is how I talk to my father in my dreams right now.

(Though in my dreams, I'm glad to see my dad, but I knew I'd think of His Highness...)

I'm kind of glad that's illuminating, but I'm a little happy.

"You know, it's a nice stew from today's dinner."

"What, are you stew today?

My father's expression became brighter.

"That's right. Tori Meat Oodle Stew! I helped you make mayamori meat onions!!

"Uh, what, white stew?"

"Zannen. My dad's favorite brown stew, he said," Hey, Mom, when you get out, "

"... hey"

My father loved my mother's made beef stew.

I got a pressure cooker for my birthday last year. My mother makes it. It's wonderful and delicious even with meat that's not domestic.

"You're hungry, Dad."

It's true.

Unfortunately, there was no food in the car at all.

My father was not so fond of sweets, unlike my mother, so I'm not in the habit of carrying snacks.

"... Oh, Maya, I have cookies"

I went out and snacked on a tissue that I couldn't eat enough of.

"Yes, Hanbuntsu"

"No, Maye eat it all."

"No, Hanbuntsu!

To Asae, who offered one of the two broken pieces, my father received it with a crying face.

The cookies were very good then.

Although it was a commercial cookie that was nothing special or anything, half with my father, it also gave me an unforgettable flavor for eating it when I was hungry.

(Probably because of my experience at this time, I've always had something in my bag)

"My dad's already hungry. Eat all the rest, Asae."

"Uh, I still have caramel."

"My dad's an adult now, but Maye's a kid and he's going to have to grow up a lot.... so Maye eats it."

(I said I ate about half of it, there was nothing I could do...)

Yet my father laughed gently.

(... what am I gonna do, I'm gonna cry...)

I missed it, I was happy... I couldn't help but admire it.

"Asae."

"... what? Dad."

My father said something.

Yet that doesn't sound right and I listen back.

"... Dad?

My real father was staring at himself.

"Mixed"

(Huh...?

I never remembered a word like that from my father.

(... Ah, but this, it's a dream...)

My father's hand was gently placed over my head.

It was a dream I knew from the beginning.

Yet I couldn't bear it anymore and I spilled tears.

(... I'll be fine because I'll be happy, Dad)

I wanted you to feel safe and I laughed and showed you in tears.