"By the way, Kenny, have you heard about Beth?"

　As we walked up the slope together, I asked Kenny, and he shook his head, "Is that the story again?"

"That kind of nonsense has nothing to do with me."

"Tell me that, we're the people of the "Thirteen Month", aren't we?　Wouldn't it be nice if I could be a little more sympathetic and think about it?"

"If Beth would listen to me, but she wouldn't, would she?　She's childish, so she's full of herself, and she's stubborn and hard-hearted. I live my life as I please, and that's why she hates me. I'm not stupid or good-natured to try to get better for someone who thinks badly of me. That's Hubert's job. We all know that's the case."

　To get from Lake Lulu to the river to the east, we have to weave through an unpaved grove.

　Grove is more humid than other places. And along the way, there were wooden statues that had been cut down in half and carved directly into standing trees.

　They are the work of Mick. Most of them had some kind of frightening, devilish, scary look on their faces, but he didn't listen to them, saying that they were copies of old divinities that had perished in the civilization of old mankind.

　Certainly, it seemed somewhat similar to what I had seen in the video data of the outside world that I had obtained from the "Revelatory," but it must have been a problem with Mick's skill that made me think it was a little different. Or maybe it was due to his quiet but slightly stagnant eye color.

　The world he saw was usually stagnant. The way he perceives and interpret things was distorted as if it were slowly seeping in. At least, that's how it felt to me.

　Truly, everything was like that. He mumbled that the only reason he couldn't get rid of the wrinkles on the sheets he was using was because someone was maliciously directed at him.

　Or he insisted that the dust in the strong wind had gotten into his eyes because someone had deliberately dug it upwind to make it easier for the dirt to roll up. It's as if he knew he was going to sculpt there, and he did it on purpose.

　All of those remarks, and deliberately rough, stepping on the ground to show off his grumbling, was frankly excessive. That's an overstatement. It even lured Hubert's sigh.　As a matter of fact, it was Kenny and Mick who were being watched a little carefully in "Thirteen Month," but from my point of view, they looked very different.

　 Kenny is, to be sure, a selfish person. But he doesn't try to impose his style on others. But Mick is different. He deserves to despise those who do not conform to his own idea of justice. He doesn't yell at people face-to-face, so it's hard to see at first glance, but he expresses his frustration in his attitude.

　Kenny is like a cat that doesn't catch him even if he tries to catch him, but Mick is like a balloon that seems to burst and scatter deadly mud from the inside if you poke it. The essence of it is completely different.

　As in this case, Kenny makes it clear that he is not going to do anything for Beth. But He don't Think that Beth is bad or wrong. It doesn't matter to Kenny whether Beth actually witnessed the teacup or not. From his point of view, if the fact is true in Beth's mind, that's fine. Kenny thinks that adding an interpretation of whether it was true, wrong, or false is not What he should do because he has nothing to do with the matter, and that is Stupid thing. It's a very honest and sober idea.

　There is no affection, but Kenny and Beth are not close enough to have affection in the first place, so if we think about it objectively, it is probably reasonable.

"Hana"

　Suddenly, Kenny called me in a low voice, and I stopped in my tracks. He looked under his bangs and saw Mick peeling the bark of a tree in a secluded place, a short distance away.

　Until then, I remember that there were no trees that had been cut down. So, he must have also cut a tree without permission. And carve a new image of the devil.

　With that in mind, I was looking at Mick's back, and somehow, a dim stagnation began to drift in my cognition. When I felt that this was a bad trend, Kenny shook my hand and said, "Let's go." I looked up and nodded to Kenny, "Yes." My silver fingertips obeyed meekly as he led me by his hand.

　For Kenny, Beth doesn't matter because she's not special. But I'm special to him, and that's why Kenny took the initiative to keep me away from the things that kept my heart stagnant.

　Each of these small acts of kindness must have been the reason why I stayed with Kenny. Even now, those fragments of memory rejoice in my heart.

　With our fingertips on hand, as if we were dancing, we quickly exited the grove.

　Then, the eastern river will soon appear before our eyes. Hand in hand, we walked slowly along the banks of the river.

　When we go to the east side, things are calmer than in the west. Whether it's the flow of air, the intensity of the light reflected on the surface of the water, or the chirping of birds, the stimulation of such things becomes somehow gentle and soft.

"What are they going to do today?"

　To Kenny's question, I replied, "We're almost there."

"Go and ask Nina and Marie."

　Turning around, Kenny looked a little suspicious. The destination was already a stone's throw away, so I could have been honest with him, but I didn't. Even if I answered now, it would only be a double whammy because Nina and Marie would have to explain it to us when we arrived anyway, and I decided that I wouldn't have to tell him.

　When the river turned a little northward, we returned to the grove. After a while, a familiar treehouse appeared. It's big enough for all the "children" to sleep, and it's solidly built.

　Suddenly, Kenny glared at me.

"You cheated."

"No, I didn't cheat."

　It's true. I didn't say anything, did I?

　Underneath the treehouse were Nina with her arms crossed and glaring at Kenny, Marie sitting at the base of a tree with her back hunched in trouble, and then the other two children who weren't "children"—the other two who had left Beth out—Jean and Nicola.