Chapter 39
“Pumpkin?”
“Yes. If possible, an old pumpkin.”
Peter’s expression grew peculiar.
A pumpkin? And not just any, but a big, yellow, ripe old pumpkin?
Of course, an old pumpkin wasn’t unsuitable for the competition.
But wouldn’t a fruit that resembles her suit her image better and draw more attention?
To Peter, the image of Estelle was clear: the freshness of her youth, the brilliance of her beauty, and the charm of a personality so different from her appearance.
And the crop that could embody all of that, he thought, was a fruit—specifically, a deep red pomegranate.
I was going to suggest fruit and slyly ask, “How about a pomegranate?”
So why on earth a ripe old pumpkin?
“Does it have to be an old pumpkin? There are so many other options.”
“Yes. I’d really like it to be an old pumpkin.”
But Estelle’s attitude was firm.
It felt like no matter what he said, she wouldn’t be swayed.
Reluctantly, Peter set aside his regret and nodded. “Alright, let’s go with that.”
“Have you only decided on the crop, or have you prepared anything yet?”
“No. That’s why I came—to ask for advice and a bit of help.”
“Then this works out. Yesterday, I found a pumpkin vine in the section you helped with before. The flowers bloomed beautifully. How about we grow that one? Want to go see it?”
Peter stood up from the bench and asked.
Estelle nodded and rose to follow him toward the pumpkin patch.
“This way.”
When they arrived at the field, Peter, who had been walking slowly by Estelle’s side, suddenly quickened his pace.
After a short while, he stopped and called her over.
As Estelle walked toward him, Peter crouched down and pointed at a vine.
“This flower. This one bloomed the most beautifully.”
Where his finger pointed was a flower—big, yellow, and wrinkled with crinkled petals.
Peter touched it carefully. “Isn’t it pretty?”
“It is pretty,” Estelle replied with a nod.
Peter looked at her, delighted and surprised.
“Really? Usually people say pumpkin flowers are ugly. That’s why they call unattractive people ‘pumpkin flowers.’”
Estelle frowned at his words.
“That’s something only people who don’t understand say.”
“Why?”
“Isn’t it obvious when you look? It’s beautiful.”
She snorted softly, as if it were only natural, and continued.
“The bright yellow looks like a star has fallen from the sky to the ground. The large size makes it stand out even more.”
“…”
“And more than anything, I like how the petals curl inward. The tips folding in look like they’re trying to embrace you.”
Watching Estelle speak as she gazed at the pumpkin flower, Peter thought—
She must be speaking while thinking of someone.
And that someone was likely the same person he himself liked.
Peter smiled as he watched the sparkle in Estelle’s eyes.
“I’m sure if it’s you, Estelle, you’ll be able to grow a big, magnificent old pumpkin.”
“Thank you.”
“No need. I haven’t even helped yet. Nothing to thank me for.”
Peter waved both hands vigorously, an embarrassed laugh escaping him.
“Anyway, a Beautiful Produce Contest, huh? Brings back memories. I once entered one myself, you know.”
He stood, brushing dirt off his pants, and stretched wide as he spoke.
His face looked like someone pulling out the most treasured jewel from a hidden chest—so precious it was hardly ever revealed, which made it all the more joyful.
In contrast, Estelle’s face darkened.
“Back then, I grew a really bright, beautiful red apple and won first place. I was so happy. I wanted to share that happiness. So I gave it to Reina—”
“I know.”
“Huh?”
Her voice, suddenly heavy and subdued, cut him off.
It was Estelle’s voice.
Peter blinked in surprise and looked at her.
“You gave that apple to Reina, didn’t you?”
“Uh… yeah.”
Confronted with Estelle’s cold expression, Peter nodded unconsciously.
But he couldn’t understand why her attitude had suddenly changed.
Regardless, Estelle glared at him.
And then—
“This time, I will win. And I’ll dedicate that honor to Reina.”
She said it quietly.
Was it the look in her eyes—so full of displeasure—or the pouty tone of her voice?
To Peter, Estelle seemed jealous.
No, perhaps it sounded more like: Don’t get in my way. Don’t interfere.
Flustered, Peter couldn’t say a word.
All he could do was nod dumbly, still bewildered.
Estelle had taken the Pantora Academy exam about ten days ago.
The results should start coming out soon…
Not long ago, while walking around town, she’d overheard people talking.
That Pantora Academy had finished grading the tests—and that accepted students would be contacted soon.
I’m so nervous.
Of course, she was certain Estelle had done well. She believed it without a doubt. But still, her heart pounded.
It couldn’t be helped.
Even when you know something, sometimes you can’t help but feel anxious.
“When will it come…?”
“Pardon? What did you say?”
“Huh?”
She snapped back to reality and saw Marco looking at her from the podium.
“Oh, nothing.”
Ah, goodness, what’s wrong with me?
We were supposed to be discussing what the village school students should do for the festival, and here I was, daydreaming.
Shaking my head quickly, I gestured at Marco.
It meant, Don’t mind me, go on with what you were saying.
Marco seemed to understand instantly, nodding deeply.
He turned back to the seated children and spoke.
“So, like I said earlier, how about we make paper flowers for this festival? They may not have fragrance, but they won’t wilt. When people look at them later, they’ll remember the fun they had.”
“That’s a great idea! The memories will come back fresh.”
“Yeah, yeah!”
The children chimed in enthusiastically, agreeing with Marco’s idea.
“Even Mina, the youngest, can make paper flowers. Out of all the ideas, this is the best. No one will be left out.”
“Exactly!”
“I agree. And the fact that we all participate makes it meaningful.”
“Wow, that’s wonderful!”
During class meeting time, the village school kids always discussed and shared ideas for the festival.
Usually, because of differences in age and gender, it ended in chaos.
But today, for some reason, everyone was speaking up on their own, and the meeting was progressing with cheerful energy.
Have they grown again in the meantime? Ah, so proud of them!
Truly, they were my children. I couldn’t be prouder.
I looked at them with a face full of satisfaction.
“But then… does Estelle have to participate too?”
Just then, as the children were laughing and chattering, a voice rang out.
And with it, silence fell.
“Uh… well…”
“Y-yeah, right?”
The kids began glancing nervously at each other.
Should Estelle also join the event? And if so, who would be the one to bring it up to her?
It seemed no one wanted to be the one to ask.
Ah, I knew their relationship wasn’t the best, but I didn’t think it was this bad.
After all, Estelle wasn’t one of the children who attended the village school I ran.
She was a child who lived with me.
That difference alone made things awkward whenever they crossed paths.
And besides… it’s that typical childish possessiveness, that sense of ownership. They all have it, and it makes things worse.
That desire not to lose someone—or something—you cherish to anyone else.
All of the children felt that way. Estelle included.
Before Estelle arrived, even though each child had those feelings, things stayed peaceful.
Because everyone met me equally at school, spent time equally, and then went home equally not seeing me again.
It was fair enough that no one had complaints.
But once Estelle appeared, everything changed.
Now there was someone who wasn’t just a student in school but also spent time with me personally—another child their own age.
