Chapter 2

I could remember.

That she came around.

That she would be sitting there, quietly, writing letters.

I could remember.

The figures of that person, and of my kindly smiling mother.

That sight, surely…

I would not forget even in death.

The Girl and the Auto-Memories Doll

Ghostwriting had existed as a profession since olden times. It had once almost become extinct due to the widespread of Auto-Memories Dolls, but ancient and optimal occupations received love and protection from a great number of people in no small amount. During current times, in which mechanical dolls were at a rise, had instead granted popularity to hobbyists with a taste for the past, who claimed that professions were better off in old style.

The mother of Ann Magnolia used to be one of such tasteful people with nostalgic hobbies.

Ann's mother, whose curly dark hair of natural waves, freckles and thin body were just the same as that of her daughter, was someone who had come from a wealthy household. Raised as an elite woman, she had married and, even after aging, something about her was still a "young lady". The gentle smile she would wear whenever letting out a pleasant laugh was childish to whomever saw it.

Looking back on how her mother used to be, even now, Ann thought she that was like a little girl. If anything, she was a clumsy person, yet she brimmed with curiosity, and whenever she enthusiastically asserted, "I want to give this a try!", Ann would say in disbelief, "My, my, again?".

Boat rides, dog races, quilt embroidery and flower arrangements imported from the East. She was a person who adored learning and had a feminine hobbyist side to her, and so, whenever she went to watch plays, they were sure to be romance ones. Keen as she had been on laces and ribbons, the outfits she wore were mostly dresses and one-pieces similar to those of princesses from fairytales. She used to impose them on her daughter, fancying parent-child matching attires. Ann would wonder what could be wrong with her mother for wearing clothes full of ribbons despite having aged considerably, but never once voiced it.

Ann had treasured her mother more than anyone in the world – even more than her own existence. Regardless of having a small body, she had herself convinced that she was the only one protecting her mother, who was not a strong person by any means.

She had loved her mother that blindly.

Around the time when the mother that she was so fond of fell ill and the date of her passing was approaching, Ann had an encounter with an Auto-Memories Doll. Even though she had countless memories with her mother, the ones Ann would recall were always about the few-days period when they had welcomed a mysterious visitor.

"It" showed up on a very sunny spring day.

The lone road bathed in abundant sunrays of a beautiful spring. At its sides, flowers that revealed themselves from within the snow thaw swayed along the feeble wind, stems shaking.

Ann was observing the way "it" walked from her the garden of her home. It was an antique-looking, tasteful Western-styled house sitting on top of a hill, which Ann's mother had inherited from her family. With its white walls and blue roof, surrounded by enormous birch trees, its aspect was like that of an illustration from a fairytale book.

The residence was peripheral, standing alone and quite far from their prospering town. Even if one were to look around in every direction, no neighboring houses could be found. For that reason, whenever there were any guests coming, they could immediately be spotted through the windows.

"What's… that?"

Clad in a smock one-piece that had a large, light blue-striped ribbon collar, Ann possessed slightly ordinary yet lovely facial features. Her dark brown eyes were now so wide-open that it seemed they would fall off.

Peeling her gaze off "it", which marched towards her direction while showered by sunlight, With enamel shoes that had flower adornments on them, Ann ran off from the garden and waltzed back into her home. Breaking through the extensive front entrance, she climbed the spiral staircase decorated with portraits of relatives and opened with great vigor a door ornamented with a lease made out of pink roses.

"Mom!"

As her daughter breathlessly barged in, the mother reprehended, raising her body only a little on her bed, "Ann, I always tell you that you must knock before entering my room, don't I? And also give your greetings."

Ann inwardly huffed upon being lectured, but lowered her hips, pinched her skirt's hem and bowed regardless.

Did the action stem from her so-called "little lady side"? In reality, Ann was an infant. It had been but seven years ever since she was born into this world. Her limbs and face were round and looked soft.

"Mom, excuse me."

"Very well. Then, what is it? Did you find a peculiar insect outside again? Do not show it to Mom, all right?"

"It's not a bug! A doll is walking over here. Erm, I'm talking about a doll but it's a huge one; a woman doll that looks like it could be from that bisque doll photo collection Mom likes," she said with an imprecise vocabulary as if having a coughing fit.

Her mother clicked her tongue at Ann with a "tsk, tsk". "A 'young female doll', right?"

"Come on, Mom!"

"You are a daughter of the Magnolia family, so your wording should be elegant and beautiful. Okay, one more time."

Puffing her cheeks, Ann reluctantly fixed her manner of speech, "There's this young female doll, you see! She's walking over!"

"My, is that so?"

"It's mostly cars that cross the road in front our house, right? If she's on foot, it means she got off at the nearby bus stop. People who get off at that stop are bound to be our visitors, right?"

"That is right."

"Like, there's been nothing next to our house since forever. In other words, she will be coming to this place!" As a cherry on top, Ann added, "I have a feeling that this isn't anything good."

"So we are playing great detective today, huh?" in contrast with Ann's rapid-fire talking, her mother spoke leisurely.

"I'm not playing around! Hey, let's close every door and window… and make it so that this doll… this young female doll won't be able to come inside! It's okay; I'll protect Mom."

The mother gave Ann, who determinedly swung her arms with vigor, a strained smile. She probably thought that her child was but spouting nonsense. Even so, she decided to go along with the game in a way, getting up with slow movements. The hem of her long, light pink-colored negligee dragging along the floor, she stood next to the window. Due to the light of the Sun, her slim body was visible from underneath the translucent negligee.

"My, isn't that the Auto-Memories Doll? Come to think of it, she was supposed to arrive today!"

"What's an 'Auto-Memories Doll'…?"

"I will explain later, Ann. Help me get ready!"

A few minutes thereafter, Ann's mother threw away the Magnolia family elegance that she sought from her daughter and dressed up. While Ann did not change her clothes, she had a ribbon of a color similar to that of her smock one-piece placed on her head. The mother, being herself, wore an ivory-colored one-piece dress composed of multiple overlaid layers of lace frills, hung a soft pea-green shawl over her shoulders and put on rose-shaped earrings. She sprayed a perfume made of thirty different types of flowers in the air and spun around, enveloping her body with the fragrance.

"Mom, are you excited?"

"Even more than if I were to meet a foreign prince."

That had not been a joke. The outfit her mother had chosen were the kind that she would only wear on truly special occasions. Watching her in such state, Ann was also fidgeting.

——I don't like this; it's better without guests coming here.

Ann's fidgeting had not instigated from delight.

On the topic of visitors, children would look forward to them albeit feeling nervous, but Ann was an exception. That was because, from the moment she had become aware of the things around her, it had become obvious that any guests who visited her mother would come to pester her for money. Her mother was a carefree one and visits made her happy, and so she was quick to comply with them. Ann loved her mother, but was troubled by the poorness of the latter's monetary management abilities and her scarce sense of danger.

She could not remain unsuspecting that even a thing with doll-like looks was not after their household's fortune. Yet what Ann disliked more than anything else was the fact she could tell even from a distant view that the woman's appearance was definitely the sort her mother favored. Her mother's heart being taken by anyone other than herself was to Ann nothing but unpleasant.

As her mother had claimed, "I want to hurry and meet her!" and not listened to Ann, the two of them came outside and arranged themselves to reception the guest. Ann assisted her mother, who was breathless just from descending the stairs, as they stepped out.

The world was filled with sunrays filtered by the gaps between tree leaves. The paleness in the skin of her mother, who usually only moved around inside their residence, was awfully conspicuous.

——Mom, you're kind of smaller than you used to be.

She could not look at her mother's face amidst the excess of sunshine, but had a feeling that the other's wrinkles had increased. Ann's chest ached bitingly.

No one could halt the process of so-called deadly diseases.

Although Ann was a small child, she was the one and only heiress who would later succeed her mother and administrate the Magnolia household. She had heard from doctors that her mother's life had already been cut short. She had also been told to prepare herself. God did not have mercy even upon seven-year-olds.

——If that's how it is, then I want Mom all for myself until the very end.

If her mother's time was running out, Ann wanted to use it entirely for her sake. Into the world of the girl who had such a mindset, a stranger intruded.

"Pardon me."

Something even more radiant emerged from the sun-bathed green road. As soon as Ann saw "it", her bad feeling was confirmed.

——Aah, she's someone that will rob Mom from me.

Why did she have such a thought? Upon looking at "its" figure, she could only say that it had been her intuition speaking.

'It' was a bewitchingly beautiful doll.

Golden hair that shone as though born out of moonlight. Blue orbs that glowed like gems. Bright rouge-colored lips so plump as to seem they had been pressed hard. A Prussian-blue jacket under a ribbon-tie snow-white dress that bore a mismatched emerald brooch. Cocoa-brown knit-up boots that stepped steadily onto the ground. Resting a frilly, light blue and white-striped umbrella and bag onto the grass, "it" displayed manners much more refined than Ann in front of the duo.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance. I rush to anywhere my customers might desire. I am from the Auto-Memories Dolls service, Violet Evergarden."

"Its" voice, just as exquisite as "its" appearance, resounded in their ears. After overcoming her shock from being struck by such beauty, Ann looked at her mother, who was at ease next to her. Expression painted like a little girl who had just fallen in love, stars twinkled in her eyes out of amazement.

——And, as expected, that's no good.

Ann thought of the stunning guest as someone bound to steal her mother away from her.

Violet Evergarden was a woman who worked as a so-called "Auto-Memories Doll" in the ghostwriting business. Ann questioned her mother as to why she had hired someone of that sort.

"I wish to write letters to someone, but they will take too long, so I wanted her to write in my stead," her mother laughed.

Indeed, she lately relied on her maid even when bathing. Writing for an extended period would certainly be too extreme for her.

"Why that person, though…?"

"She's pretty, isn't she?"

"She is, but…"

"She's a celebrity in the business. The fact that she's so attractive and doll-like is one of the reasons of her fame, but she's rumored to do really a good job as well! Moreover, having a woman write letters for me while we are by ourselves, and having to recite it to her aloud… one does not need to be a man for this to cause shudders!"

Her mother valued the beautiful, and Ann was convinced that was the main motive why the young woman had been chosen.

"If it's just letters, I could do the writing."

At Ann's statement, her mother giggled nervously. "Ann cannot possibly write difficult words yet. Besides… these are letters that I cannot have you write."

With her last sentence, it was clear who the one doing the writing would be.

——Surely, she intends to write to Dad, huh…

Ann's father, simply put, had abandoned the family. He was never home and never did much work as the family provider, indulging in debauchery instead. Apparently, her mother had married him for love, but Ann did not believe this in the slightest. Not once had he visited her mother after she had become ill, and just when they had thought he was coming back home for the first time in a while, he had actually only stopped by to take vases and paintings from the house and sell them, as he was a pitiful man who took refuge in gambling and alcohol.

It seemed he used to be an heir with a promising future in the past. However, a few years after their marriage, his side of the family went bankrupt due to a small failure in trade, becoming financially dependent on the Magnolia household. From what Ann had heard, it would seem that the reason behind this minor business fiasco had been her father himself.

Ann swallowed down all the circumstances and despised her father. Even though he had collapsed once due to business failure, should he not have continued to do his best? Not only had he not done so, but he had also turned a blind eye to her mother's disease and necessities, continuously running away. That was why Ann's expression would distort just by hearing the word "father" coming out of her mother's mouth.

"Making this kind of face again… What a waste of your cute features."

A massaging thumb stretched out the creasing between Ann's eyebrows. Her mother seemed to lament the hatred towards her father. It appeared that her affection for him had remained even while being treated so terribly.

"Do not think severely of your father. Bad things do not last. This is just what he wishes to do at the moment. He has lived his whole life seriously. That is the truth. Although our paths slightly differ now, if we wait, he will properly return to us someday."

Ann was aware that such days would not come. Even if they did, she had no intention to welcome them warmly. Should things turn out the way her unwittingly wavering mother had predicted, the fact that he did not come see his wife even as she had become terminally sick and repeatedly found herself hospitalized was not an escapism from reality, but an act of love.

At the very least, he supposedly knew that she did not have much time left.

——It's fine without Dad around.

It was as if he had not been there from the start. For Ann, her mother was the only one who classified in the word "family". Moreover, those who saddened her mother were her enemies, even if one of them was her own father. Anyone who would steal her time with her mother, too. And should that apply to the Auto-Memories Doll who had come as per her mother's request, she would be an enemy as well.

——Mom is mine.

Ann marked anything that could destroy hers and her mother's world as a foe.

Her mother and Violet started the process of writing letters seated at a table on antique white benches under an umbrella arranged in the garden. Their contract period was of one week. It seemed that her mother really did intend to make Violet write incredibly long letters. Perhaps they were addressed to several people.

Back when she was healthy, her mother used to often throw salon parties and invite many friends over to the manor. However, she currently had no contact or involvement with those people anymore.

"So there's no meaning in writing them…"

Ann did not come near the two, spying on their actions while hiding behind the curtains instead. She had been told to not disturb when her mother's letters were being written.

"There's need for privacy even between parents and children, right?"

It was a cruel demand for Ann, who had always been glued to her mother.

"I wonder what they're talking about. Who is she writing it to? I'm curious…" She squeezed her cheek against the window frame.

Serving them tea and snacks was not up to Ann, but to the maid. Therefore, she was unable to put on a good girl façade for the sake of eavesdropping on their internal affairs. All she could do was watch, just as she could not do anything about her mother's illness.

"I wonder why life has to be like this…" she attempted to spew out an adult-like line, but since she was a seven-year-old, it did not have any effect.

As she continued observing them with an unkempt facial expression, she was able to take notice of many things. The two worked very quietly, yet they occasionally seemed to either become quite solemn or be enjoying themselves a great deal. During the fun moments, her mother would laugh loudly and smack her hand down with force. During the sad ones, she would wipe her tears with a handkerchief lent by Violet.

Her mother was a person of intense emotional vicissitudes. Even so, Ann thought, was she not opening her heart too much to someone she had barely just met?

——Mom will be tricked again…

Ann had learned the ruthlessness, indifference, betrayal and greed of people through her mother. She worried tremendously about the latter, who was too fast to confide in anyone. She wished her mother would simply figure out how to be suspicious of others. Yet, perhaps her mother did intend to entrust that Auto-Memories Doll, Violet Evergarden, with whatever mystery was hidden within her heart.

During her stay, Violet was introduced to the house as a guest.

At mealtime, the mother had invited the young woman to join them but was declined. When Ann asked why, Violet had coldly replied, "Because I wish to eat by myself, Young Mistress."

Ann found her odd. Whenever her mother was hospitalized, no matter how warm the meals prepared by the maid were, she was unable to enjoy them. Food that she had to eat alone was simply tasteless.

That was what meals were about.

As she caught the maid off to deliver Violet's dinner to her room, Ann claimed that she would be the one to do so. In order to know the enemy, she first needed to interact with her.

The menu was soft bread, vegetable soup with chicken and colorful beans, fried potatoes and onions garnished with salt, garlic and pepper, roast beef with sauce, and pear sherbet as dessert. That was the usual in the Magnolia house. Although it could be considered rather luxurious, as Ann had grown up in a wealthy environment, it felt plain to her.

"There's no helping that Mom overlooked this. We need to increase the amount of meat for tomorrow. And no sherbets; it has to be a cake. In a way… she's a guest."

Not forgetting about hospitality regardless of anything was the gift of good families.

As she reached an oak wood door – the one of the guest room –, she called, as her hands were occupied with a tray, "Heeey, it's dinner time."

Rustling sounds came from inside, and, after a pause, Violet opened the door and poked her head out.

As she did so, Ann grumbled, "It's heavy. Hurry and take it!"

"I am terribly sorry, Young Mistress," she immediately accepted the tray with an apology, but as her expression was too apathetic, in the eyes of a child, she looked eerie.

Ann peeked through the open door from behind Violet, who placed the tray on a desk. Since the maid cleaned the room regularly, it was arranged neatly.

Ann then noticed the luggage lying conspicuously on the bed. It was a leather trolley bag clammily filled with customs clearance stickers from various countries. The bag was open, a small pistol protruding from within.

In the split moment that a realization crossed her mind, Violet returned and the object disappeared from her sight. Ann moved her body in an attempt to look at it again, yet Violet immediately blocked it once more. Just as would happen in a pantomime show, the two of them continuously moved in perfect synchrony with each other. Eventually, Violet lost her wit.

"Young Mistress, is a gun something usual for you?"

"What's up with that? Hey, is it a real one?"

As Ann inquired excitedly, Violet answered, "Self-defense is a necessity for women who travel alone, after all."

"What's 'self-defense'?"

"To protect oneself, Young Mistress."

As Violet narrowed her eyes slightly, Ann's body trembled at the movement of her lips. Had she been a little older, the girl would probably have recognized her own reaction as a sign of fascination.

A woman capable of numbing people with her voice and gestures was a magical one. Ann felt far more threatened by Violet's charms than the fact that she carried firearm.

"So you… shoot that thing?"

As she imitated the shape of a pistol with her hands, Violet straightened her arm immediately. "Please enclose the sides more. If your hand is loose, you become unable to withstand the recoil."

"This isn't the real deal. It's a finger."

"Even so, it should be enough to serve as practice for a time when you could possibly need it."

What was that Auto-Memories Doll saying to an infant?

"Don't you know? Women aren't supposed to use these kinds of things."

"There is no separating women from men when it comes to possessing guns," Violet replied without hesitation, and Ann thought she was the coolest.

"Why do you have that with you?"

"The next place I will be dispatched to is an area of conflict… Be at ease. I shall not use it here."

"Obviously!"

At Ann's sharp attitude, Violet lightly forced a question out of curiosity, "Is there no such arming in this mansion?"

"Normal homes don't have that."

Violet gave her a puzzled look. "Then what do you do in case a thief ever appears…?" Seeming truly doubtful, she tilted her head. As she did so, her doll-like features stood out even further.

"If someone like that shows up, everyone will know right away. This is the countryside, after all. It was the same when you arrived."

"I see. This could explain the low crime rate in depopulate areas." Nodding as if that had been a lesson, she looked like a child despite being an adult.

"You're… kinda… weird," Ann declared tensely, pointing an index finger at Violet.

Although she had merely said so out of spite, at that instant, the corners of Violet's mouth rose just a little for the first time. "Young Mistress, should you not be going to sleep? Staying up late is prejudicial for women."

Due to the unexpected smile, Ann was blown away to a certain degree and could say nothing else. Tinted red, her cheeks denounced the truth behind her palpitations.

"I-I will sleep. You should sleep too, or else, Mom will scold you."

"Yes."

"If you stay up even later than this, monsters will come to tell you that you have to go sleep."

"Goodnight, Young Mistress."

Ann could not bear staying there or even standing on her feet anymore, leaving the place in a rush. However, as she walked away, she found herself curious no matter what, glancing backwards the very next second. She could see Violet holding the gun beyond the door that was still half-open. Violet's expressions were mostly deadpan, and so, it was hard to tell her mood changes. Nevertheless, even the all-too-young Ann could understand what she had seemed to feel at that moment with just a look.

——Ah, she's kinda…

She was somewhat lonely.

Incompatible with her current appearance, she held onto a brutal, fierce weapon. Ann could hardly imagine growing attached to her, yet she was becoming familiar with the black gloves covering Violet's hands. Using those two hands, Violet pressed the rib part of the gun that she was gripping against her forehead with a bump. Her figure was similar to someone uttering a prayer, which pilgrims would often do. Before Ann turned around the hall's corner, her ears were able to catch said prayer.

"Please, give me an order," she asked somebody.

Ann's chest suddenly began to thump faster.

——My face is hot. It stings.

She did not understand very well why her heart beat so rapidly, but it was because she had caught a glimpse of a woman's adult side from Violet.

——How strange. Even though I don't like that person, I'm interested in her.

Interest was just a step behind of romantic love. Ann did not yet know that, sometimes, feelings such as "like" and "dislike" could easily reverse.

Ann's observation of Violet went on even after that. The progress of writing letters seemed to be doing well, for the bundle of envelopes had increased. Violet would glance discreetly at her direction every now and then, causing her to wonder if the woman was aware of her peeking through the window. At those moments, Ann's heart would throb. She ended up acquiring the habit of grabbing onto her chest, to the point her clothes crumpled in that spot.

The little girl continued to change.

"Hey, hey. Hey, I said. Put a ribbon on my hair."

"Understood."

Although she was sad about her mother being monopolized, she could not bring herself to feel angry.

"What's a bread so hard that you can't bite through?"

"I believe any will soften if dipped into soup; is that not the case?"

During the breaks in-between the letters' writing, Ann would inadvertently chase after and spend time with her.

"Violet, Violet."

"Yes, Young Mistress?"

Before realizing, instead of referring to her with a demeaning "you", she had changed it to "Violet".

"Violet, read me books, dance with me and catch bugs with me outside!"

"Please state the priority order, Young Mistress."

Violet was challenging to stick with, but did not neglect her in any way.

——What a weird person. I kind of also become weird when I'm with her.

Albeit resenting it, Ann became obsessed with Violet.

The peaceful times met a sudden end later on.

Ann's mother had become a little healthier a couple of days after Violet's arrival, but her already poor physical condition gradually worsened. Perhaps it had been a mistake to expose herself to the wind outside. She had a fever, and the fuss over it came to the point that a doctor was called over to the manor. But even in such a situation, she and Violet did not halt their work. The mother lay on her bed while Violet resumed typing the letters, sitting next to it.

Uneasy at the change in her mother's condition, Ann worriedly came to see how things were going in the room and to persuade her. She meant to make her stop writing the letters.

It would be a problem if she let the flame of what life she had left dissipate because of mere letters. That was most definitely unacceptable. Even as Ann was negated to, she forcefully entered the room with continuous objections.

"Why do you push yourself so hard to write these letters? The doctors say it's useless…"

"If I do not write them now, I might never be able to. It is all right. See, it is… because my head is not doing so well that, when I was reciting, I ended up having this psychological fever. How unpleasant…"

Her mother smiled weakly, but she was unable to reciprocate. It was a smile that pierced Ann's heart.

The joyful moments had disappeared as if they had been a lie and the bitter reality had abruptly come back.

"Mom, stop it already."

Although her mother had been fine ten seconds before, she could stop breathing in a matter of three or so minutes. The sorrow of living with someone in such circumstances wound up resurfacing.

"Please, don't write these letters anymore."

If doing so would earn her fevers… if doing so would shorten her life…

"Please, please…"

…even were it something that her mother wished for, Ann did not wish her to do it.

"Just stop it!"

Her accumulated anxiety and depression burst out at that instant. Even Ann herself was surprised by her own voice, which had come out much louder than she had imagined it would.

In that moment, she ended up spewing at once the selfishness that she would normally not vent out, "Mom, why don't you ever listen to me? Do you prefer being with Violet over me? Why do you not look at me?!"

It might have been better for her to say it in a more lovable manner. She had accidentally let her distress show.

With a shaky tone, she wound up asking in an accusing way, "Am I… not wanted?"

All she had wished for was to be looked after.

Her mother shook her head with wide eyes at those words. "That is not it. There is no way that would be the case. What is the matter, Ann?" She desperately attempted to lift the mood.

Ann evaded the hand that reached out to pat her head. She did not want to be touched.

"You don't listen at all to anything I say."

"That's because I'm writing these letters."

"Are the letters more important than me?"

"Ann, there's nothing more important than you."

"Liar…!"

"It's not a lie."

Her mother's voice was internal and full of grief. Still, Ann did not stop her arguments from coming. Her resentment towards how things were not going the way she hoped bled out of her.

"Liar! You've always been a liar! All the time… All the time, it's nothing but lies! Mom, you haven't recovered in the slightest! Even though you said you'd get better again!"

After having said it, as it was something she should not have uttered, Ann immediately regretted it. Such was the kind of line that would normally be said in a fight devoid of love between parent and child. But that day was an exception. Her mother, red-faced from the fever, remained smiling while growing silent.

"Mom, hey…" While she was in that state, Ann called out to her. The spur-of-momentum heat was suddenly gone. Yet, as she tried to speak, her mouth was covered by a touch.

"Ann, please, leave for a bit."

Tears spilled from the eyes of her whispering mother. The large droplets quivered loose and eventually cascaded down her cheeks. Ann was shocked that her mother, who perpetually smiled despite the pain she had to endure from her disease, was actually letting her tears be seen.

——Mom is crying.

Since her mother was not the type to cry, Ann had believed adults to be creatures that never shed tears. After realizing that was not the case, the fact she had done something terrible rang within her mind.

——I've hurt my Mom.

Even though Ann knew that she, more than anyone, was not supposed to place herself before her mother, and even though she was convinced that the task of protecting her mother the most was up to her, she had made the latter cry.

"M-Mo…" she attempted to apologize, but was driven away by Violet, who proceeded to drag her out of the room as if dealing with a dog cub. "Stop! Let go! Let go!" Ann exclaimed, left alone in the corridor as she was unable to put up resistance.

Her mother's sobs could be heard from the other side of the closed door.

"M… Mom…" She clung to the door, distraught. "Hey, Mom…"

——Sorry. Sorry for making you cry. That wasn't my intention.

"Mom! Mom!"

——I just wanted you to take care of your own body. So that… So that… I could be with you even for a second longer, if possible.

"Mom…"

——That was it.

"Mom, hey!"

——Is this… my fault?

Due to the frustration from not receiving any response, her loneliness reverberated. She tried banging her fists against the door violently. However, even without hurting, her hands became weak and numbly fell down.

——Am I being selfish?

A mother who was at death's doorstep. A daughter that would be left on her own.

——Am I selfish?

A mother who kept writing letters, for she might not be able to do so in the future. A daughter that hated it.

——Was being together with her… something so bad to wish for?

The tears that had dried out were on the verge of overflowing again. Ann inhaled deeply and yelled in one breath, "Is someone else more important to Mom than me?!" As her shouts came out, she started bawling. Her voice was muffled, her timbre cracking. "Mom, don't be writing letters and spend time with me!" the child begged.

Wailing when their requests could not be fulfilled was simply what children did.

"Without Mom, I'll be alone! All by myself! How long will this last? I want to be with Mom for as much time as I can. If I'll be on my own after this, stop writing these letters… For now, be with me! With me!"

That was it; Ann was but a child.

"Be with me…"

Still too young to be able to do anything, she was a mere child that had lived for barely seven years and adored her mother.

"I want to… be with you…"

She was someone who, in fact, had always, always wept over the fate granted to her by God.

"Young Mistress."

Violet came out of the room. She stared down at Ann, whose face was wet with tears. Just as the girl had thought that was clearly a cold treatment, a hand made its way to her shoulder. The warmth of the act abated her hostility.

"There is a reason for me to be robbing your time with your mother. Please do not resent her."

"But… But… But…!"

Violet crouched down to meet the small Ann's line of sight. "It is evident that Young Mistress is strong. Even with such a small body, you have already acknowledged your mother's disease. Children usually will not complain or care for someone to this extent. You are a highly respectable person, Young Mistress Ann."

"That's not it. That's not it at all… I just… wanted to be with Mom for a little more…"

"Madam feels the same way."

Violet's words sounded like nothing but pity.

"Lies, lies, lies, lies… I mean… she's concerned about those letters for someone that I don't know rather than about me. Even though there's no one else in this house that really worries for Mom!"

——Everyone, everyone is all about money.

"I'm the only one… I'm the only one who cares for Mom!"

The way her dark brown eyes saw it, adults and everything related to them were wrapped in fabrications.

Her shoulders shivered as her tears trickled to the floor. Distorted by said tears, her vision was as blurry as the world felt to her. Just how many things in that world were actually real?

"And yet…"

The young girl believed that, regardless of how long she would live afterwards, if the world was filled with so much hypocrisy and treachery from the very start of one's life, the future did not have to come.

"And yet…"

The amount of things Ann deemed as true could be counted with one hand. They shone unrelentingly in such a false world. With them, she could tolerate any sort of dread.

"This is how it is… and yet…"

——Even though I wouldn't need anything else as long as Mom was with me…

"And yet, Mom doesn't love me the most!"

As Ann yelled, Violet placed an index finger against her lips at a speed that could not be perceived by human eyes. Ann's body quivered for a moment. Her voice ceased seamlessly. In the quiet corridor, her mother's sobs could still be heard from behind the door.

"If it is about me, you can be as angry as you will. Hit me, kick me; I will not mind whatever you feel like doing. However… please refrain from using words that would sadden your beloved, honorable mother, for your own sake as well."

As Ann was told so with a severe face, tears started to rapidly form in her eyes again. The cries that she suppressed and swallowed back in were fresh and painful.

"Am I in the wrong?"

"No, there is not a single thing that you are to blame for."

"Because I'm a bad child, Mom became sick, and… will soon…"

——…die?

Violet answered Ann's question in a whisper with a tone that was still a little dispassionate but unperturbed, "No."

The tears poured from Ann's stroppy eyes.

"No, Young Mistress is a very kind person. Illnesses are unrelated to this. It is… something that no one can predict or do anything about. Just as I can no longer have a skin as soft as yours in place of my robotic arms, it is something that cannot be helped."

"Then, is it God's fault?"

"Even if it were, even if it were not… we can only concentrate in how we should live the lives that we have been granted."

"What… should I do?"

"For now, Young Mistress… you are free to cry." Violet opened her arms, her machine parts letting out a faint noise. "If you will not hit me, is it all right if I lend you my body instead?"

That could be interpreted as "you can jump on and hug me", even though she did not seem like the type to say such things. Ann could cry securely, so to speak. Without hesitation, she embraced Violet.

Was she wearing any perfume? She smelled of several different flowers.

"Violet, don't take Mom away from me," she said, tightly pressing her face against Violet's chest and soaking it with tears. "Don't steal my time with Mom, Violet."

"Please forgive it for only a few more days."

"Then, at least tell Mom that it's okay if I stay by her side while you're writing. It's fine if you two ignore me; I just want to be close to her. I want to be by her side and squeeze her hand tight."

"I apologize, but my client is Madam, not Young Mistress Ann. There is nothing I can do to change this."

——I really can't stand adults after all, Ann thought.

"I hate you… Violet."

"My deepest apologies, Young Mistress."

"Why do you write letters?"

"Because people have feelings that they wish to deliver to others."

Ann knew she was not the center of the world. Regardless, the fact that things never went as she desired caused more tears to pour down out of frustration.

"Things like that don't need to be delivered…"

Violet merely continued to hug the frowning Ann, who bit her lip out of displeasure. "There is no such thing as a letter that needn't be delivered, Young Mistress."

It seemed her words were directed at herself rather than at the girl. Ann pondered over why. Because of that, the phrase was somehow strikingly engraved in her mind.

The time that Ann Magnolia spent together with Violet Evergarden was of only a week. Her mother managed to finish writing the letters one way or another, and Violet reticently left the mansion once the contract period was over.

"You're going somewhere dangerous, right?"

"Yes, since someone awaits me there."

"Aren't you scared?"

"I rush anywhere a client might desire. This is what the Auto-Memories Doll Violet Evergarden is about."

"Can I call you over if I someday meet someone I'd want to write letters to?" was what Ann could not bring herself to inquire.

What if the woman died at the place her next client was? Even should she not, what if Ann ended up never finding someone she would like to write to? Thinking about that, she was unable to ask it.

While being seen off, Violet turned around only once and waved at her.

It was several months after the woman had left that the disease of Ann's mother reached its worst. She soon passed away. The ones who took care of her in her last moments were Ann and her maid.

Until she closed her eyes, Ann continuously whispered, "I love you, Mom."

Her mother simply nodded slowly. "Yes, yes."

On a calm day of a quiet spring, her dear mother passed away.

From that point on, Ann became extremely busy. In regards of her heirloom, after a discussion with lawyers, she decided to freeze the family's multiple bank accounts until she was of age, summoned a private tutor to the manor and studied hard. As it was difficult for her to part ways with the land that bore deep memories of her mother, she obtained qualification for a bachelor's degree through correspondence education.

She never again saw her father. He had attended the funeral, but they had barely exchanged two or three words.

After her mother died, he completely stopped coming home. His recklessness with money ended as well. Ann did not ask directly the reason behind his change of mindset, but believed it to have been a good one.

Ann opened a law counseling office at home after graduating. She did not earn that much, but she no longer had a maid, so it was about enough for her to sustain herself. She was also in the middle of a small love affair with a young entrepreneur who often came for counseling.

As she did not succumb to sorrow even after having lost her mother at seven years of age, people would ask, "How come you don't break down?"

To that, Ann would answer, "Because my mother is always looking after me."

Her mother was, of course, deceased. Her bones resided in a family grave where their relatives had been buried for generations.

Yet Ann would say, "My mother has been rectifying and guiding me all this time. Even now."

There was a reason why she would affirm that while smiling. It was connected all the way to the time that she had spent with Violet Evergarden.

Ann's eighth birthday had been the first after her mother had passed on. A package had arrived for her on said day. It had contained a big stuffed bear with a red ribbon. The name of the sender was of her late mother, the present accompanied by a letter.

Happy 8th birthday, Ann. Many sad things might have happened. There may be several others to work hard on. But do not give in. Although you might be lonely and crying desolately, do not forget: Mom will always love you, Ann.

It had been unmistakably her mother's handwriting. At that instant, the image of Violet Evergarden had resurfaced in the back of Ann's mind. Had it gotten mixed with the letters she had ghostwritten? If that were the case, it would be unnatural. In the past, although her mother had said that she was going to write letters, everything had been penned by Violet Evergarden. Could it be that the Auto-Memories Doll had gone as far as imitating her mother's handwriting?

In shock, upon questioning the postal agency that had delivered it, Ann had been informed that the company had signed a long-term contract with her mother and was supposed to send gifts on her birthday every year. Moreover, the certain someone who had written the letter was Violet Evergarden, and all the other letters transcribed by her had been carefully stored.

Ann did not receive an answer when asking for how long the letters would be delivered due to contractual secrecy, but they had arrived every single following year. Even as she had turned 14.

You have already become a wonderful lady by now. I wonder if you have found a young man that you like. Your way of speaking and attitude are a little boyish, so be careful.

I cannot give advices regarding romance, but I shall protect you so that you do not become involved with a bad boy. This is about Ann, who has always been firmer than me, after all. Even if I do not do that, surely, if you are the one choosing, it will be a truly great person. Do not be afraid of love.

Even as she had turned 16.

Have you ridden in a car by now? Would you be surprised if Mom told you that I actually could ride in cars too? I used to drive a lot in the past. But I would be stopped by the people riding with me. They would go blue.

My gift for your birthday is a car of a color that suits you. Just use the enclosed key. But I wonder if it is now considered a classic model. Do not call it 'lame', okay? Mom is looking forward to you becoming able to see various different worlds.

Even as she had turned 18.

I wonder if you are married by now. What do I do? To become a wife at a young age is troublesome in many ways. But your child will definitely be cute, no matter if it is a boy or a girl. Mom guarantees that.

I do not mean to say precipitously that parenting is rough, but… the things you did that made me happy, the things you did that made me sad – I want you to raise your child with them in mind. It is all right. Regardless of how insecure you might become, I am here. I shall be by your side. Even as you become a mother, you are still my daughter, so it is fine to let out a screech sometimes. I love you.

Even as she had turned 20.

You have already lived 20 years now. Amazing! To think the little baby that was born from me would become so big! Life is truly whimsical. I am saddened that I could not see you grow into a pretty young woman. No, but I shall be watching over you from heaven.

Today, tomorrow, the day after; you will always remain a beauty, my Ann. Even if disagreeable people discourage you, I can affirm this with a puffed-out chest: you are gorgeous and the coolest young lady. Have confidence and move forward with full responsibility towards society.

You have managed to live this long because you have been taken care of by countless people. This is thanks to the structure of the community you are in. You have been helped out a lot without knowing. From now on, in order to pay back for it, please work even for my part.

I am kidding, sorry. You are a hard worker, so saying something like this is overdoing it. Have strength and enjoy life, my dearest. I love you.

The letters kept reaching her forever. The words her mother had written were recited in Ann's mind by a voice that she would occasionally forget.

Back in the old days, the feelings of her sick mother had all been addressed to her. Each and every one of them were future birthday cards to her beloved daughter. Meaning that the one Ann had been jealous of was herself.

"There is no such thing as a letter that needn't be delivered, Young Mistress," Violet's words echoed in Ann's ears beyond the borders of time.

The letters continued finding their way to her, even as she married and had a child of her own. She – a woman of long, wavy black hair, who lived in an enormous peripheral mansion of her possession, located far from town – would make sure to go outside in the morning on a certain day of a certain month. She would wait while taking in the scenery that spread out before her.

As her ears picked the noise of the bike ridden by a postman clad in a green frock coat, she stood up with her eyes shining. Her figure as she anxiously waited while thinking, "Is it now? Is it now?" was certainly similar to that of her late mother.

The postman arrived at the residence, handing to her an enormous package with a smirk. He, who knew about the gifts sent to her every year, offered warm words of his own as well, "Congratulations for your birthday, Ma'am."

She replied with slightly wet dark brown eyes, "Thank you." And, at last, she asked what she had been wanting to for a long time, "Say, do you know Violet Evergarden?"

The post office and the ghostwriting industry had a close relationship. Once Ann inquired with her heart pounding "what-if", the postman replied while grinning, "Yes, since she's famous. She's still active. Well, then…"

Ann watched as the postman took his leave, caressing the gift with a smile. Her tears slowly poured down. Still smiling, she whimpered a little.

——Ah… Mom, did you hear this just now?

That woman was still working as an Auto-Memories Doll. The person she had shared a part of her time with was still doing well, carrying on the same occupation.

——I'm happy. I'm really happy, Violet Evergarden.

From within the mansion, she could hear a call, "Mom!"

She turned to the direction of the voice. Someone waved from the window that she used to be at when observing her mother and Violet. It was a girl with slightly wavy hair that keenly resembled Ann herself.

"Another present from Grandma?"

Ann nodded at her innocently smiling daughter. "Yes, it arrived!" answering enthusiastically, Ann returned the wave.

Inside the house, her daughter and husband were about to commence her birthday party. She had to hurry back. Crying softly, she walked towards the mansion. As she did so, she was deep in thought.

——Hey, Mom. You said before that you wanted me to give my child all the happiness you'd once experienced, right? Those words… made me incredibly happy. They really resonated with me, is what I thought. That's why I'll do what you did. This isn't an excuse to see that person, though. It's part of the reason, but not all. I, too… have feelings that I want to convey. Even many years after our first meeting, I have a hunch that she definitely won't have changed a thing. With her beautiful eyes and voice that has a sweet ring to it, she will write about my love for my own daughter. Violet Evergarden is that kind of woman – the one that does not disappoint. On the contrary, she was the type of Auto-Memories Doll that one would want to witness doing her work once more. When I see her again, I shall thank her and apologize to her without reserve. After all, I'm no longer that girl who could do nothing but cry.

Ann Magnolia would never forget the woman who had embraced her back when she was small.

I could remember.

That she came around.

That she would be sitting there, quietly, writing letters.

I could remember.

The figures of that person, and of my kindly smiling mother.

That sight, surely…

I would not forget even in death.