The Protagonist's Party is Too Diligent

Chapter 121

Memories aren’t defined by their length or duration but by their intensity and the impact they have on our lives. They linger when they’re deeply positive or negative, something that shapes us profoundly.

For these children, I had become such a memory.

As the conversation extended and our time in the lobby grew, we moved to the dining hall. There were other children and adults scattered around, but the room was spacious enough that we didn’t disturb anyone by settling in a corner. Some of them glanced our way curiously, but seeing who we were, they chose not to intrude. They were well-mannered, raised with respect.

As they stood to leave, Claire signaled with a gentle hand motion, and we exchanged polite nods. Then we claimed a section of the dining hall as our own, and the children continued telling their stories.

It was as if they had been waiting for this moment to share their lives with me. They talked about how they’d come to Grace Manor, received their education, and grew up. When the time came, they each had the chance to decide if they wanted to stay and work here. Not one of them wanted to leave. Having spent their early years in a miserable place, they weren’t about to give up the chance to live without the constant threat of cold, hunger, or violence.

As their stories unfolded, I sensed their anticipation, a flicker in their eyes that told me they were waiting to hear mine.

But...

I’m sorry, I thought to myself, but I can’t share my story just yet. Instead, I kept my mouth shut, listening intently to each of them.

Did I seem overly solemn? Or had they finally run out of things to say? The chatter gradually subsided, and by the time the last diners had left the hall, our group had fallen into silence too.

"..."

"..."

A short, awkward silence followed.

Alice was watching me, her gaze curious, while Claire’s expression suggested she was hoping I’d say something. But still, I didn’t know what to say.

Could I share my truth with these children, who had just been so open with me about their lives?

Could I confess that, when we escaped, I hadn’t intended to save them? Or that the food I had shared with them back then was motivated by pity for lives that I assumed wouldn’t last much longer?

No... I couldn’t. I wasn’t courageous enough to bare the truth to these children who saw me as their savior.@@@@

Finally, someone broke the silence.

"Um..."

It was Daniel.

In the otherwise quiet dining hall, the only sounds were the shuffling of the children and the faint clattering from the kitchen. Yet, that single syllable seemed almost thunderous.

With every eye on him, Daniel looked flustered, his cheeks quickly turning pink.

His training as a butler must still be incomplete; a butler shouldn’t be so transparent. But then again, Daniel was young. He had time to learn.

...as long as there wasn’t a war to drag him to the frontlines as cannon fodder.

"Your hair."

Sitting in the shade, gazing at the green fields, Alice’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

I turned to her. She was still looking straight ahead, speaking softly.

"Are you thinking of growing it out?"

"...I don’t know."

"I think long hair would suit you," Claire chimed in from my other side.

"Maybe someday, I’ll grow it out," I said, turning my gaze forward again.

In the distance, several red-brick buildings marked the edge of the Grace estate. Beyond it, the city kept turning, clanking and grinding like a machine.

"But not now."

Yes, not now.

Growing out my hair could wait until I had fewer things to take care of.

At least until I knew that every child sitting beside me would be safe...

Until I knew that all my favorite characters from the original story would survive to the end...

Until I could confirm that the children I’d impulsively saved were still secure...

Once I was sure I’d no longer need to turn back time, then, maybe, I could let my hair grow.

I didn’t want to go through the trouble of growing it out, only to reset and start all over again.

"When you do decide to grow it, I’ll teach you how to braid it beautifully," Claire offered, now something of an expert from doing her hair in a ponytail every day.

"What are you talking about? Sylvia looks better with her hair down. Why would you tie up her beautiful hair and risk damaging it?" Alice countered.

"But she’s always running around—"

"All the more reason to style it elegantly, befitting a princess—"

The two of them bickered back and forth with me sitting between them.

...they really were like sisters, quarreling over nothing.

I wondered if a day would come when we’d look back on this moment and think, *That’s how things were back then.*

...Maybe I’d make it my goal to ensure that day would come.