Beauty and the Beast
***
"Aria, why are you so selfish?"
"I'm scared of Aria."
"Aria, aren't you a little uncomfortable?"
I hate him.
.
.
.
"Aria, stop being lazy and get up!"
Even in the dewy dawn, Mrs. Benson shouted in a hearty voice. And I, Aria, simply and clearly ignored her call. I answered softly, "Yes," but the distance was so great that she must not have heard. Knowing that Mrs. Benson would come to wake me, I fell back into a hazy sleep, feeling the soft comforter. Some time had passed since then, and I rubbed my eyes as they opened naturally, raising my upper body. I glanced around the deathly silence, checking the closet clock. The hour hand was racing steadily toward twelve.
"Isn't Mrs. Benson coming to wake me up?"
This was the first time something like this had happened, so she was quite flustered. Still, she couldn't contain her anger. Aria simply washed her cat's face and wandered around the village in search of Mrs. Benson and her friends. One thing that caught her eye was that the entire village was ablaze with vibrant colors. It was almost like a festival. Even in the shadowy alleys between buildings, candles that had burned out but never been replaced were being replaced, as if they were being used for streetlights. Aria, who had no interest in village affairs, had no way of knowing what was going on. When she went out to the village square, she saw Mrs. Benson, the villagers, and several others gathered together, preparing something.
"Mrs. Benson!"
"Aria? What brings you here?"
"What are you doing here, Madam? I didn't even come to wake you up!"
"Tomorrow is the Soseono Festival. And am I your personal watch?"
Mrs. Benson, who had hit Aria's head with the small ladle she was holding, continued preparing the meal, her voice booming like dawn. The Soseono Festival was something I'd heard about growing up, and tomorrow was just around the corner. I'd last seen it when I was seven, so I couldn't help but be glad to see it return.
"That would be fun!"
And at that moment, a group of people were plotting a plot in a small alley. Aria, oblivious to the future, was simply blissfully ecstatic.
***
"The Holy Grail has been stolen!"
"what?"
"The Holy Grail has disappeared!"
The Holy Grail, required for the festival's most important ritual. It had been carefully stored in the village hall's storage, but it was lost on the very day of the event. Given the scale of the event, they must have inspected it yesterday. How could it have been lost? The villagers' faces crumpled beyond words. Then, an angry voice emerged.
"Aria! You stole it!"
A single shout drew the villagers' attention to Aria. In an instant, she was hailed as a thief and questioned like a witch. Everything from the whereabouts of the Holy Grail, which she'd seen so long ago she couldn't even remember, to who she'd stolen it with in a village where she had no close friends, to her motives. As public opinion grew, unverified statements were met with criticism.
"Aria, I knew this would happen. I told you I should have banished that thing a long time ago."
"No matter how much you hate the village, how could you steal the Holy Grail?"
"I always found him disgusting. Ugh, he's dirty."
Despite repeated claims of being a thief, no one dared to criticize Aria, who was usually self-centered and self-indulgent. Even Mrs. Benson, with whom she had been close, briefly met her gaze and then quickly looked away. Aria had no allies in this town. Accused of stealing the Holy Grail, Aria was imprisoned for three days, awaiting punishment until exile. The investigation began, and the Grail was discovered in a barn just one day later. However, the townspeople, unable to tolerate Aria's misdeeds, demanded her banishment.
"Get out."
"Don't come back again. Don't even come near me."
"If you keep living like that, you won't even be able to pick up the bones."
Aria, her meager belongings bundled up, was abandoned at the village entrance. Behind her lay a beautiful and complex rose garden, a mixture of black and blue roses.
***
Without even knowing where I was, I continued walking through the mountains until the soles of my shoes wore out. For a full week, I stood alone, relying on nothing. And the reality I faced was a glimpse of myself, a foolish and incompetent "beast." A selfish, self-centered personality, and the residents who suffered as a result. They were like my parents, the ones who had taken me in when I was abandoned on the side of the road and raised me. What kind of resentment could have caused me to treat them so cruelly? My mouth was parched, and my body seemed dehydrated, but tears trickled down, one by one. If I could go back in time, if only to a week before the incident. I could ask for forgiveness. But there was no way to turn back time. That's why immutable truths exist.
"ah…."
Aria's legs gave out, unable to bear the trembling, shivering pain. The withered life seen through her eyes, her body hunched over, was truly miserable.Aria must have sensed that sensation, too, as she didn't even make the slightest effort to get up from the ground. Right now, rather than feeling regret or resentment, she simply wanted to apologize. I simply wanted to say I'm sorry for all the hardships I've caused her. I don't ask for any forgiveness. Just this once. I just want to convey my sincerity one last time. And then, footsteps could be heard from afar, and a loud voice called out for Aria. It was undoubtedly Mrs. Benson.
“Aria! Where are you!”
Why on earth did she come all the way here, looking for me? Could it be that she'd been walking the same route I'd walked for a week? Or had Mrs. Benson been kicked out of town? My mind was flooded with questions, but my body, so drained of energy, refused to move. Mrs. Benson, who had strode to Aria, laid her down on top of her, and yelled at her.
“If you’re not the culprit, you should say no.”
I, as the person involved, feel wronged by it, but I don't cry, so I don't understand why you're crying for me. Mrs. Benson is always like that. Why do you get angry, laugh, and cry for me? How can that be?You are.
“What are you doing here, Aria?”
"Get up and say something. Talk back, or something."
Even if I couldn't convey this to everyone in town, I wanted to convey it to Mrs. Benson. She opened her mouth, moving the dehydrated object. Then, a single, shallow word burst out.
"I'm sorry, thank you."
Although I couldn't hold on to my mind that was drifting away, I was finally able to imitate the heart of a beauty from my 'beastly' mind.