Flor of the Crybaby Bunny and Hat Chapter 8

[xuebingcode]

Chapter 8

Snow: Ohohoho. Looks like it’s finally time.

Snow & White: Noscomnia!

Rutile & Mitile: Woah…!

When the twins sang their spell, everyone’s clothes changed into fancy pastel coloured clothing.

Snow: How is it? It is an aesthetic we quite like. Cute, isn't it?

White: Ohohoho, we added the ears and tail for the Crybaby Bunny and Dancing Hat!

Akira: I love it! Great job, you two!

Splendid clothes perfect for a day of celebration, that brightens the mood of anyone who looks at it.

Snow & White: We will put in our all to celebrate the Day of When the Crybaby Bunny and Dancing Hat Met.

Grete: (Oh good, looks like no one’s home at the moment…after I drink some water, it’s back to my room.)

(Huh? One of my drawings is on the table…)

…

Hans: This is awesome, Grete! It’s like the flowers are actually blooming from the paper!

Grete: Ehehe, thank you big bro! I think I did a good job too.

Hans: Hey Grete, how about we put this up in a spot it’ll stand out most!

It’s so pretty that it makes me happy! You really are a great artist.

Grete: (He said all that but in the end…)

Uu…*sniff* …Ah.

(I, I can’t…the paper will get wet…Huh?)

Why is my flower…squiggling? Huh…what?

N-No way! The drawing flew from the page out the window!

(No…it’s not just the flower…all my drawings on the wall are…)

Why are you all blank! Where did you all go!

Waiting for Grete in the flower field we finished our preparations and could see the figure of a young girl running towards us.

We knew it was Grete from how similar her face was to Hans.

She searches her surroundings, unable to see us,

for we had magic casted on us by the twins to turn us invisible. 

Though we who had the same spell casted on us could see each other, Grete could not sense a thing.

Grete: Haah, haah…where is my flower…?

Hm? What a pointy hat…it’s falling…

What Grete was looking at a ways before her was a big black hat that belonged to Rutile and Mitile’s mother, Tiletta.

On its round edge was a simple frilled trimming, and at the top of this triangular shaped hat was a little flower swaying in the wind.

Timidly she approaches the hat, stretching out a hand when the hat swirls its way to her, floating circles in the air.

Grete: ?!

Hat: Welcome, my Crybaby Bunny.

Grete: It talked!

Dancing Hat: Hmhm. Have I startled you little one? Greetings, I am the Great Wizard, Dancing Hat! 

Grete: The Great Wizard…Dancing Hat?

Dancing Hat: That is me. And today is a day where we celebrate our union. Now, will you play with me?

The Dancing Hat spins around the flower field, looking over it, its fabric wiggling.

Dancing Hat: Let’s go treasure hunting. I’ve hidden a treasure here in this flower field.

It is an artwork painted with various colours, and there’s only one like it in this world. I’m certain you’ve been searching for it too.

Grete: …Is the treasure…my drawing?

If it is, then you’re wrong. A bad drawing like that isn’t a treasure! 

If it’s lost, then that’s fine. I don’t need to find it…

Dancing Hat: But weren’t you set on chasing after it?

Grete: …

Dancing Hat: Is it really okay with you to not find the treasure?

Grete: It’s not a treasure!

Cause…my art isn’t anything good!

Dancing Hat: …Why do you think so?

Could you tell me the reason?

Grete: …At school, my teacher showed me this painting of flowers by an artist from Central. 

It was super pretty…it was the kind of art you call ‘masterpiece’. My drawings aren’t anything like it…

I really loved drawing art…I was so proud of it. Even my big bro praised me all the time.

But I think if he saw that painting…he wouldn’t compliment my art anymore.

So I hid it…and when I came home, I felt so terrible about what I did…

I never thought I was the kind of girl who’d do that…

And even though I knew I had to return the painting to my teacher…

I was so ashamed of myself that I couldn’t leave my room…

That’s how I know that my drawing isn’t a treasure at all.

My drawings think so too, that’s why they all left, because I’m a girl who can’t draw well and does terrible things.

Dancing Hat: …

Oh dear…

The flowers around them begin to rustle, even though the wind wasn’t blowing. From there, vibrant coloured papers appeared.

Grete: What…

It was Grete’s drawings. A soft colour scheme, a warm brush hand, the many drawn flowers and animals, and her happily smiling family and friends.

Hopping with glee the papers begin to dance around her.

It looked as though the drawings were trying to cheer her up.

Dancing Hat: They couldn’t handle playing hide and seek any longer once they saw your falling tears.

Grete: Uu…everyone…

Rutile: Your drawings love you, Grete. 

Grete: …! Mr. Rutile!

A shadow lightly appears before Grete who was staring at the ground, who turns to look up at Rutile.

Rutile, who was holding the pointy hat, tenderly smiled like the flowers that faced the sun.

Grete: So the Great Wizard, Dancing Hat was you, Mr. Rutile…?

Rutile: Hehe, are you surprised? Sorry if I scared you for a bit. I wanted to tell you something.

Grete, will you listen to me?

Grete: …Okay…

Rutile: No matter how many other beautiful pieces of artwork there are out there, it doesn’t change the fact that your drawings are amazing too.

Look at your drawings, they’re all saying “I love you!”

I believe that’s because you carefully put in your love and effort while drawing them.

And Grete, there is nothing wrong with what you’re feeling. It’s a side everyone has.

Grete: Huh…?

Rutile: Everybody has a vulnerable side to them, like you, like me.

Accepting that side of you takes great courage. There are some adults out there who even try to hide it, and act strong instead.

So I think that the you who properly faced her vulnerable side is a veeeery great girl!

Grete: Mr. Rutile…

Rutile: …I found the painting. Do you want to return it with me later?

Grete: …Yes. I’m sorry, Mr. Rutile.

Rutile: You have nothing to apologize for, Grete. The teacher who lent you that painting isn’t mad either.

Grete: …

…But…I’m still scared…

And…if big bro knew about this, I know he’d…

Grete was slightly trembling, afraid to voice out her next words. 

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