I Swear I Won’t Bother You Again!

The moment I opened the door, I felt a different world.

Dark, well said, calm shades of Violet's room lack a sense of life, for better or worse. I should have been using it for more than fifteen years since I was born. I guess the only reason Violet's color still doesn't stain is because it's self-contained but doesn't reflect that preference at all. Still, Violet is not particularly dissatisfied because she has everything she needs to live, and there is no substitute for losing her shoulder strength in this house.

Mary Jun's room was so different from Violet's own that it didn't seem like it was in the same mansion.

Bright shades and lovely decor. Unlike Violet's room, which is like using the prep as it is, we know very well that each and every one is Mary Jun's favorite.

Decorated plush, photo stand. Although there is an extraordinary amount of stuff compared to Violet's room, it nevertheless never feels messy as if it is clean and tidy.

A room is a good way to photograph people. The Lord's preferences and life are clearly expressed. If the dark, inorganic room is Violet, then I guess the softness I felt in this room is the essence of Mary Jun.

The depth of nostalgia that holds a lot of things, beautifully and dearly. A place where people associate love with each other.

"Please, sit down! You're going to prepare your tea now. Your stomach... you just ate and you're not free."

"Yep... thanks"

Go that way or come this way with Patapata. Is it true that Mary Jun is a little nervous even though she is in her room and is restlessly lost?

Speaking of which, he also had determined eyes when he called out. I mean, that wasn't the way it usually is. The fact that it would be Mary Jun or nervous was a little unexpected, although each would be a pressure or a driving force. Somehow, I thought any ordeal was the type to feed itself.

Speaking of which, the two of us have been talking since we did what we preached that day after helping Mary Jun, who was involved.

(That's... that's nervous)

Violet reminded me of that fact, but with only a small amount of power throughout my body.

I have no regrets for what I said that day. It's an act of speaking, both of its contents. Imitation like throwing a bomb in a mine is reckless, not courage.

"Sister, would you rather have tea straight or milk?

"Can I have some milk, please?"

"Yes."

At some point I will pour the tea set that was prepared into the cup handled with a familiar hand. Violet had to spend tea time alone without Marin, so she has mastered the technique, but basically, a person who is your son's daughter is not accustomed to preparing something for herself.

Mary Jun, who grew up loved and spoiled, thought it was something like that, but apparently it was a mistake.

It's fragrant. There will be tea leaf quality, but Violet knows, both in knowledge and in experience, that everything will be ruined if anything is brewed wrong.

"Go ahead."

"Thanks, I'll take it."

I was given one of the two cups, and the sweet scent flashed through my nostrils aboard the hot air that stood on my feet.

Lost transparency. That's milk tea as you wish. If you include it in your mouth, it's as sweet as you can imagine and with more tongue than you can imagine. I inspired taste and sense of smell. I have one feeling about it.

"... delicious"

"Is it true? Good..."

Mary Jun, who was stiffening herself waiting for Ji and Violet's thoughts, lost her shoulder strength as if it had melted in one word. Are you relieved or are you smiling softly with your mouth on the cup yourself?

"You've been used to it a lot, but you always brew it yourself?

"No, that's not why... I wanted to invite your sister someday, so I practiced"

"Huh..."

A slightly shy, hazy smile. He is slightly dyeing his cheeks, concealing his licence with a cup held by both hands.

Innocent as a child, white and pure everywhere. Honest, gentle, soft. I've known Mary Jun for a long time.

Now, that's so shocking.

Shizuku, shizuku. I felt the proximity of my heart gradually thin and small, slowly shrinking.

"Sister... I thought about what you said before."

There is strength in both hands I gripped over my knees.

He threw just to throw, and without any explanation, he sincerely thought of his words, which he had just escaped.

"Your sister's, you're right. I, as the daughter of this house... have too many things missing. I knew nothing, even though the environment would change my mission and my common sense."

Correct your posture and stare straight at this one, I've always been bad at those eyes. When I first met him, I hurt him over and over again, and started over again. Moisturizing like crying will never stop you.

"You don't think I was wrong then. I still think it's odd to think of people in their capacity. But it's... it's never right, I know."

Her heart was horrible to take, to think, and sometimes to brace and sometimes to change. The more I know about Mary Jun, the more I raise that fear.

"And we... we know that nobility can't just be right. I still don't know what's right..."

Until then, a girl who was no different than a civilian. I was born special, but still never grew up as a nobleman. Something is wrong with a child who couldn't be either while he was hanging around in the universe, suddenly being pressed into a special status of nobility and being able to adapt quickly.

Still, I can't help but change forever in this place where mistakes are unacceptable.

Originally, my father, who was the cause of everything, should have taught me at least a little bit.

That was not applied because my father loved my daughter in one piece, but it must have been because. And because she has accepted that love without mistake, she remains white.

And that, I'm sure, was right. At least it's true that Mary Jun grew up to be a good man.

Loved, loved. Gently soft, serene and beautiful.

Why are you...?

Is it so clean? Is it so sacred?

Just like I once forgave myself for continuing to abuse you. As I once showed mercy for myself as a sinner. I don't want to admit it, I've turned away. I knew it would be eight.

The fact that you stabbed me in the heart, you can't turn away anymore.

Because I grew up happy, because I was loved and merciful, I thought Mary Jun could be a good man. No, I wanted to think. Otherwise, because neither my place nor my pain, nor my tortuous, crooked sexual roots, could be accepted.

I wanted to think that if I were there, I would have been happy myself. I wanted to think that Mary Jun took away the happiness I deserved.

If I was in Mary Jun's shoes, I'd never be like her.

Few people, even those with all their parents, who lived happily loved, could forgive themselves for being as harmed as Mary Jun. Human beings who are bright and gentle and just pure, that's all they are.

If Mary Jun was in Violet's shoes, I don't know if she could have been as innocent as she is now.

But even if I was in Mary Jun's shoes, I couldn't be like this.

"Dear - Dear Sister, are you okay?

"Oh, I'm sorry, it's nothing"

Carefully, I couldn't look into those eyes looking at this one, and I dropped my gaze on the cup in the guise of nature.

I still have about half of it left. It doesn't even include that in my mouth, I'm just rocking it in the cup.

"I'm sorry you've held me back for tiredness. Shall we open today! Can I invite you again?

"Yep... see you later"

To a nodded violet, she looks cute shagging with joy. I guess that's not just a matter of appearance, but because the very air Mary Jun has is so adorable.

Sweet little sister. Not only her appearance, but her personality. If I want to protect you, if I don't want to hurt you, I'm going to want you.

I love you, I'm going to.

"Well, excuse me."

"Yes!"

Turn your back on Mary Jun, who will drop you off, and there will be no more turning around. I was uncomfortable with the sound of my heart that was slowly on my ear, disciplining the pace at which I was about to rush out.

Gentle, beautiful Mary Jun. I'm sure if I wasn't my sister, I would have been praised for its existence. I could worship the dignity of that heart.

But because she's my sister. Because she's the same bloody sister that my father loved.

I really, really can't love you. You can't love me.

The moment I love you, I'm sure I hate that girl.

(Sorry, Mary Jun)

Swallow all your hatred and just can't love you. I can't cut it off if it's not about my parents.

I knew it wasn't Mary Jun's fault, but I couldn't abandon the possibility of resentment.

I knew I couldn't be like her.

I can't love you, I can't forgive you, that's why I can't resent you.

Halfway through and out of line, it still suits me to dedicate my life to penance and service to God. Because even the sins of the erased past are not atoned for.

You can cut yourself off one day and just wait for that day. And please, forget about even having a sister like this.

I want you to be happy.

Because that wish is never a lie.