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“Is that true?”
“Yes, Valentin knows exactly how to get on my nerves. He's so obnoxious that sometimes I think about punching him in the chest. Just thinking about it, of course. I wish he'd suffer a little.”
“Ah, I see. So that's what you meant. To think you two have become that close while I was away in Chelyabinsk. I'm surprised in many ways.”
“What a relief. I guess it really isn't love. I thought our cute little kitten had fallen for that slick face of his.”
At some point, the subtle tension that had been lingering completely vanished. Still talking about love. I had told them several times that it had nothing to do with that, but it seemed they finally believed me.
With a gentle smile, Mother stroked my hair and spoke to Vasily.
“Vasily, your precious little sister says she has a friend she desperately wants for the first time. You'll have to help her.”
“I believe I will need Mother's advice.”
“He rejected nine invitations, but surely he can reply to a tenth letter of greeting. Don't you think?”
“I believe that much is absolutely necessary for Lara, even as a part of her education. I will try to make a request of him.”
Education? For some reason, it seemed Valentin had been decided as my correspondence tutor. While this was a completely different result from what I had intended... I wondered if attracting his attention as a student might actually be effective.
“But Mother. Is there really a need to go that far for him?”
“What do you mean, Tanya?”
“I'm against him. Whether as a husband or a friend, he doesn't suit Lara in the slightest. At first, I thought it was just a passing curiosity, so I intended to wait and see, but I've changed my mind after hearing this. In my eyes, Valentin Dmitriev is not a man who can be suppressed just by pushing him down. Even if we force a friendship, he might just use Lara. Rather than keeping him by her side and worrying about the aftermath, it would be better to...”
“Tanya.”
The person who cut Tatyana off with a firm voice was not Mother, but Vasily. Had it been Ivan, Tatyana would have snarled at him for interrupting, but Vasily, along with Mother, was one of the few people Tatyana willingly deferred to.
“Valentin is not a man to be treated that way by you. I fully understand your feelings for Lara, but it would be best if you didn't antagonize him if possible. This is a request, not a warning.”
“...But Mother just now—”
“Mother simply wishes for him to play along with Lara for the time being. As I mentioned, it is also part of her education. As you know, Lara's interests don't usually last very long.”
I pretended not to hear, feeling dissatisfied but unable to express it. It seemed my family was certain that my persistent obsession with Valentin wouldn't last long.
I hoped so too. The feeling of obsession toward a person or object I couldn't manipulate felt more frustrating than enjoyable.
Tatyana shrugged a beat later.
“To be precise, my concerns lie elsewhere... but I understand to some extent. Since Brother is trustworthy.”
“I'm glad you think so.”
And so, the family meeting held for the first time in two months concluded with the decision that 'Valentin will serve as Larisa's correspondence tutor for the time being.' I didn't know if 'for the time being' meant receiving a single reply or more.
The lessons began the very next day.
The 'lessons' mentioned here weren't the dreadfully boring Imperial History, Theology, or Mathematics classes I had been taking. Those were actual classes. I thought I had sufficiently learned how to write elegant letters as a child, but Mother taught me from the very beginning.
Furthermore, the lessons weren't limited to simply 'exchanging letters.'
[The most important element in the first stage of building a friendship is being considerate so that the other person doesn't feel burdened. And you must lead the conversation naturally. Talk about yourself, but not too much; ask about the other person, but not too many things.
Keep the letter short—one page—and don't crowd it with too much text. Above all, you must maintain etiquette. Only by moving forward step by step while respecting each other can you build a sturdy relationship that won't be shaken by the winds of fate.]
It seemed Mother was quite flustered by the fact that I had sent nine invitations. Otherwise, why would she conduct a lesson on the first steps of becoming friends?
For me, it was a lesson that crushed what little remained of my pride after being trampled by Valentin... but in the end, Mother's advice proved useful. It made me realize once again how unrefined and scatterbrained I had acted during my first encounter with Valentin. Of course, that didn't mean I had any intention of repenting.
There was one more advantage.
This time, a reply from Valentin was guaranteed!
So, I intended to use this opportunity to attract his interest somehow. Whether as a friend or whatever, my mindset was to just become something to him first.
I spread out the stationery with the posture of someone entering battle.
“...Alright. Let's begin.”
But why was it so hard to fill a single page? With what kind of mindset had I sent nine invitations? What words had I used to fill nine pages?
The worst part was the opening.
Casting aside my previous frivolous attitude, I tried to be reborn as a new person, painstakingly writing each character. I managed to get through <I imagine you must have been surprised to receive a sudden letter in this season, where each day grows warmer>, but the part after that was the problem. It was only natural, as there was no business for Valentin and me to exchange small talk via letter.
“She said it's important not to make them feel burdened, right?”
It couldn't be helped. If I couldn't lead the conversation naturally, I'd focus on the fact that this letter was part of a lesson.
Unlike Valentin, who would have his coming-of-age ceremony next month, I was merely a thirteen-year-old child, so it would be fine if it felt a bit obviously unnatural.
Following the cringeworthy greeting, I filled the next part with <The reason I am writing to you directly is that while taking my theology class, a matter arose regarding prophecies that I wished to ask you about>.
Next, I added a few trivial questions that would be hard to get answers to without asking Valentin, the prophet, directly. Then, I naturally shifted the topic to ask about his favorite season or color. As I wrote, I got goosebumps on my arms because it was all so mundane.
Surprisingly, the reply arrived the very next day at noon. And it came through Vasily.
Vasily, who handed me the small white envelope, picked me up as I stared intently at the name 'Valentin' written as the sender. He laughed, gently nipping my cheek.
“It's been a while since I've seen you this happy. If you send an excellent reply, a second letter might arrive.”
I didn't open the letter immediately. I went into my room, closed the door, and placed the letter on the bed. After pacing around the bed blankly for a while, I gripped the letter again.
'Why is my heart racing?'
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