いとしいこと

Previous   TOC A Tale from Long Ago The great pure white castle stood tall, surrounded by a lush rose garden. Finally, Kyle had returned to Heaven. Overjoyed, he flitted through the flowerbeds, laughter bubbling up from him, a soft chuckle that seemed to awaken the roses themselves, their petals trembling gently as if to welcome him back. As he soared among the blossoms, a dark shape crouched low near the base of the roses caught his eye and his heart froze. Black: the color of demons. No one bearing the mark of darkness could enter Heaven without Lady Agatha’s blessing. He couldn’t just ignore it. Cautiously, Kyle approached the shadow from a distance. Amidst the vibrant green leaves and thorny stems lay a man, face down, his long black hair splayed across the earth. Suddenly, the man stirred, rising with a swift movement that made Kyle stumble backward with a terrified cry. It was none other than Warren, the demon who had torn one of Kyle’s wings away. He’d come all the way here,...

Previous   TOC   Next The next morning, Churin awoke to the sensation of someone gently stroking his cheek. “Churin, Churin.” He opened his eyes to find Gemma, his tutor, standing before him. “Wh–what are you doing here!” Since arriving on the earth, this was the first time Churin had seen another angel. Gemma peered down at him, her expression full of concern. “Lady Agatha was worried about you. She sent me because she thought something might be wrong.” Churin trembled where he sat on the branch. “I’ve been sending my letters just like always. N–nothing’s changed at all…” But Gemma shook her head. “The feather you used for your last letter was Kyle’s. You haven’t decided to return it yet, so it should still be in its reduced form, not back to its original size. That’s why Lady Agatha thought it strange you’d send a letter with Kyle’s feather.” And then Churin remembered. He always kept a few of his own feathers stored for sending letters, but yesterday there hadn’t been any l...

Previous   TOC   Next Following the lingering trace of the angel’s presence, Churin walked southward. When the road stretched on straight and clear, he would sometimes return to his angelic form and take to the air, wanting to move even a little faster. When he had first descended to the mortal realm, snow had been falling, but it gradually dwindled away. Spring flowers bloomed, withered, and gave way to the tender green buds of the trees, and slowly summer began to draw near. Before the hot summer could fully arrive, he reached a town called Pasper. He asked an old man sitting on a stump by the roadside, and he told him that even in winter, snow never fell here, it was a warm and comfortable place, especially suitable for the elderly. The angel’s presence was stronger here than anywhere Churin had been before. Somewhere in this town, the angel must be living. Yet, tangled within that presence, he also felt the trace of a demon. Perhaps the two lived together. Just remembering...