Kana's last words before her abrupt departure left a heavy aura at the table, accompanied by an unrelenting silence. Not daring to exchange glances anymore, most are simply staring at their empty plates, tracing circles with their forks. Kana's outbursts of anger aren't exactly frequent, but they are well-known and feared by all members of the Geika. After all, when she gets angry, it's also for our sake, and it's hard to remain indifferent when being told the harsh truth.
Another reason is that her rage is so intense that it becomes almost tangible, making the room feel hotter and the air heavier. Such anger in the body of a teenager—can't be easy to bear. That's why no one here will ever hold it against her. No, we simply cannot blame her for anything, not when it is all our anger that she carries on her far-too-small shoulders. If we can all laugh every day, it's because our tears flow through her eyes. If we can forget the past and keep moving forward, it's because she remembers for us. And when we cleansed ourselves of all our pain, it is in the river of her fury that it found refuge, fueling her burning desire for vengeance.
Deep down, we are all grateful to her, so when she gets angry like this, we can only feel guilty for making her carry the weight of the world in our stead. I hope that one day, someone will be able to stand by her side to share that burden and free her from all her suffering.
— Did I say something inappropriate? Asks poor Ishizora with a sincerely troubled face. If I did, I'm truly sorry. I haven't seen other humans in so long… When I arrived here, I thought that maybe, just maybe, I could even make some friends… I forgot, for a moment, that I am nothing more than a visitor who knows nothing, and in the end, I hurt one of your own.
He looks around, searching for someone to tell him otherwise, but all those who had welcomed him with open arms just moments ago now remain locked away behind thick emotional walls. Seeing this, a deep sense of shame stirs within me.
— I don't belong here among you. I'll leave now, he finally says while standing up, since no one seems willing to stop him.
∼ Why does it have to end like this? This isn't his fault… Well, in a way, it is, but he is also a victim in this story. I can't accept that he leaves like this!
— Ishizora—
— Stay! Please, Mother pleads, cutting me off afterI had already leaped to my feet, ready to block his way with my body if words weren't enough to stop him. We're all just a little tired, so please forgive us, as well as my daughter. I promise you; she has nothing personal against you. It's just… our family is complicated… and she has convinced herself that she must bear all the responsibilities alone. Since this isn't the first time you've met her, you must have noticed how stubborn she is. And sometimes, she just… breaks. I am certain that by tomorrow, everything will be better.
— Tomorrow? He repeats, perplexed.
— What kind of host would I be if I let my guest leave in the middle of the night? I know it's not very proper of me to ask this after what just happened, but would you be willing to stay with us for just one night? If you don't mind, I'd like to continue this discussion one-on-one tomorrow morning. After that, you'll be free to leave wherever you wish. What do you say?
∼ I've rarely seen Mother bow with such courtesy. If she's pleading with him this much, it means there's something about him that interests her. Mother, you are not thinking that…
— Natsuki! Could you guide him to the dormitory and prepare a bed for him?
— Yes Mother! Natsuki agrees with more seriousness than he's usually capable of.
— If you insist so much, it would be impolite to refuse your kindness, Ishizora finally accepts, bringing smiles back to everyone's face. I would be happy to spend the night here before resuming my journey tomorrow morning.
His last words cast a chill over the smiles in bloom—especially on the lips of the children who have already grown fond of him.
— Mister, you're leaving? Asks a small voice, tugging on Ishizora's sleeve.
— Just like life itself, my journey continues, Ishizora says after crouching down to the child's level, a warm smile on his face. And so does yours. Our paths may part here, but it's just a fork in the road. If my six years of surviving in the wild have taught me anything, it's that life is full of endless crossroads, and we can never predict where our choices will take us. So, who knows? Maybe we'll meet again someday. And when that day comes, I'll have ten times more amusing stories to tell.
In response to this touching speech—perhaps too complex for a young child to fully understand—the little one suddenly throws himself into Ishizora's arms. The surprise is written all over Ishizora's face in large letters, while his eyes begin to glisten with moisture.
∼ It may be the first time he receives a gesture of affection in six years.
— Heyyy! What do you think you're doing to my buddy? Natsuki intervenes, prying the child off Ishizora. He might look tough, but he's got a sensitive heart! You're gonna break him if you hug him like that.
In response to Natsuki's legendary lack of tact, the child bursts into real tears, much to Natsuki's embarrassment as he desperately tries to calm him down. Anissa finally steps in, pulling the poor child out of Natsuki's grasp, not without shooting him a sharp glare.
— What? What did I do? Natsuki asks, utterly devoid of guilt.
And suddenly, I hear a sound for the very first time.
A sound that makes my heart tremble and my lips stretch into a smile, almost automatically. I quickly realize that I'm not the only one experiencing these strange symptoms—everyone in the room is left speechless, their irises quivering, their lips curving into smiles, as they witness what may be the first genuine laughter of the solitary traveler.
The one who, until now, had never known human warmth, is now glowing like a blazing fire, flooding the room with a gentle warmth—one that is very different from the oppressive heat from earlier. I'd even say it's… refreshing. Perhaps in an effort to preserve this newfound freshness, everyone visibly holds back, allowing Ishizora's voice alone to fill the room with its powerful echo.
∼ This might be the first time he's truly relaxed in six years.
Just thinking about it sends a chill down my spine. Then, as always, Natsuki shatters the moment's veil with a deadpan remark about how even a caveman can learn to laugh like everyone else. That's when the dam finally bursts—laughter erupts all around the table, flooding the room in a wave of pure joy. It's impossible not to get swept up in the collective laughter, a cathartic release of all the tension that had gripped the room just moments ago. Such sincere hilarity can only arise from a spirit of solidarity and mutual trust, strengthening my belief that this clumsy man belongs here.
Here, in Sylvheim.
∼ Hasn't he wandered in solitude long enough? Isn't it time for him to experience the joys and struggles of living in a community? I absolutely must talk to Mother about this tonight—before it's too late.
When the laughter finally fades, Ishizora excuses himself, citing exhaustion, and leaves with Natsuki toward the dormitories. The children follow suit, and those responsible for the dishes disappear with the plates, while I remain deep in thought, replaying the extraordinary stories of the amnesiac adventurer. Before long, I find myself alone with the group of elders still seated at the other end of the table.
— Are you sure it's a good idea to leave those two together? Asks Ram, the family's blacksmith, directing his question at Mother.
— I understand your concerns, but she'll have to move forward one day.
∼ It seems they're talking about Ishizora and Kana, but I'm not sure I'm supposed to be listening to this conversation… Did they forget I was here while my mind wandered? Oh well, they're the ones who brought it up in my presence—they can't blame me later.
— Let's just hope it doesn't make her go backward instead… Replies Ram.
— When you're backed against a wall, the only way is forward, says Mother with her usual knack for stating the obvious. Sometimes, though, it takes a few jolts to take that first step.
— A few jolts… echoes Ram in a thoughtful and faintly amused tone.
— Anyway, do you believe his story? Asks Sasha, changing the subject, since nothing is more pointless than a debate where Mother has already made up her mind. He didn't seem to be lying, but my ability to detect lies isn't perfect, and I find it a bit hard to swallow.
— It's true that if the world were gentle enough for a teenager to survive six years alone in the wild, we wouldn't need to hide behind a magical barrier, admits Ram with a long sigh. And Kana understands that very well. Besides, memory isn't something that just vanishes overnight without a trace. In six years, he should have remembered something—at least his name, or that of a family member.
— There are some things we'd rather not remember, replies Mother. Who can understand that better than us? As for his survival in the wilderness, I believe he simply doesn't realize that he was never truly alone.
— What do you mean by that? Asks Ram.
— Are you referring to what your eyes revealed to you earlier? Guesses Sasha, Mother's silence confirming it. The second soul…
∼ What? What is this about a second soul? And why are they discussing such taboo topics in front of me? Aside from Sasha and maybe Ram, Mother never talks about her visions with anyone. Have they really not noticed that I'm still here? Am I that easy to ignore?! I wanted to beg Mother to let him join the Geika, but there's no way I can interrupt them now… I should probably slip away quietly before even more sensitive information spills out.
— A second soul?! Exclaims Ram apparently uninformed just as I discreetly rise from the table and head toward the kitchens.
— There's more to it than that, Mother admits, just as I'm two steps away from the exit.
∼ Ooh, damn it. This is definitely something I'm not supposed to know, but now that I've already heard more than I should, if I don't listen until the end, I'll never be able to sleep tonight. That's right, I'm just doing it to protect my sleep. I'm not doing anything wrong. No, nothing wrong.
— What do you mean by that?
— It's just a feeling, but… spirits seem to like him a lot.
— So that's what that glowing aura around him was? Sasha exclaims. I thought I was going crazy.
— An aura? Ram repeats, perplexed. I didn't see anything that extravagant.
— Your vision is still blocking your gift, Mother explains to Sasha. That's why you can't clearly distinguish spiritual entities—only the energy that radiates from them. If you could see through my eyes, you would have seen a dozen tiny benevolent beings orbiting around him.
— I swear, Ram sighs, reaching for his glass. Listening to the two of you, I'm starting to think I'm the odd one out for only seeing what's actually visible.
— Is it related to the presence of his second soul? Sasha asks curiously, ignoring the grumbler.
— That, I can't say… but one thing's for sure—it's piqued my curiosity. I hope to learn more about him tomorrow.
I quicken my pace toward the kitchens, spurred by a growing sense of guilt. After wishing a good night to the dishwashers who are just finishing, I step outside to take a deep breath of fresh air, hoping to calm my thoughts.
∼ On second thought, I don't think I'll be able to sleep anytime soon. Maybe I should take a little walk?
From Sylvheim, a discreet and little-known path winds about thirty meters into the forest before opening onto a tiny beach facing the Milky Ocean—named after its smooth as oil surface, stretching endlessly into the horizon. As I make my way there, my mind replays the conversation I just overheard.
∼ I knew Clarence could see souls, but I also thought I knew that one human equals one soul. When a living being dies, its soul, unable to remain in a lifeless body, seeks a newborn to reincarnate into. Thus, hosts change, but a soul never withers, and the cycle of reincarnation continues. If a soul ever chose not to reincarnate—assuming human will resides in the soul—it would break the cycle and, in doing so, defy the laws of nature… And then, can a single body really harbor two souls at once? It's absurd. And then there was that talk about spirits too… Aaaah, I'm going to drive myself crazy if I keep thinking about it.
— But just who are you, mysterious traveler… I murmur aloud as I reach the shore.
My eyes follow the silver path left by the moon on the oil-slick water stretching into the distance, when an anomaly in the landscape catches my attention. There's someone sitting on the sand, feet in the water. Looking closer, and considering who might be here at this hour, it can only be Kana. She was so still that I had first mistaken her for part of the scenery.
∼ I wasn't planning on talking to anyone, least of all Kana, but she seems to have calmed down. And besides, I feel like dipping my feet in too.
— You came to talk sense into me? She asks calmly as I sit down beside her—neither too close nor too far.
— What? No, not at all—
— Don't bother. I already know what you're going to say.
— Oh really? I wasn't planning on saying anything…
— You think I'm unfairly taking my anger out on him too, don't you?
∼ Oh great, I just wanted to enjoy the moonlight in peace…
— You know I'm not in a position to tell you who to direct your anger at, Kana. I don't have that right… No one does. But if you let me be completely honest with you, I think that hating him and being wary of him are two different things. In my opinion, that boy belongs with us. You must have felt it too.
— You're right… She replies with a long sigh. Though it took me an hour of staring at the horizon to reach that conclusion.
∼ I've never seen her so down before. I suppose she feels guilty about earlier, yet she still can't bring herself to believe she was wrong.
— He fit right into the Geika in just one evening, she continues. Something I haven't managed to do in all these years.
— But Kana, what are you talking about? Everyone here loves you and accepts you as you are.
— Don't mistake respect for mere pity.
Her words hit me like a slap in the face, and though my lips part to refute them, no words come to mind. That frustrates me.
— You think I haven't noticed the way you all look at me? I can get as angry as I want, say the most horrible things, and none of you will ever hold it against me. You're even… grateful! Sure, I've taken on all your burdens, your dark thoughts. I devoured them without leaving a single crumb, all so I could become a wretched being, faithless and lawless. You're mistaken if you think you've unloaded your anger onto me—because I chose to bear it. To make myself stronger, as tough as granite, so I'd never again lose to the cruelty of the world.
∼ A wretched being? Kana? How can she have such a low opinion of herself?
— I did all this for myself, just as much as I did for you. For myself, because I hate the girl who was too weak to fight when she needed to the most. Anger gives me a sense of power, a reassurance that lets me forgive myself by thinking: "You were simply too young back then, your shoulders too small. But today, you wouldn't let the same tragedy happen again". She says while holding her hand in front of her eyes. And for you, because I want to be able to protect you. I don't care what you think of me, as long as I can fight in your place—just as so many people once fought in mine.
∼ I understand that feeling all too well. We all want to protect each other, so why must she be the only one fighting? Someone whose whole life has been a battle—doesn't she deserve some rest?
— But tell me, Mai—do you think it's easy to keep carrying this weight without ever forgiving, when I myself am constantly being forgiven? I know you all mean well, but your empathy is the most virulent poison to me. It erodes the walls I worked so hard to build, melts the stone I sculpted in my own image. In the end, the ones I sought strength for are also the ones weakening me.
She catches me off guard with this sudden wave of despair. I need time to find the right words, time in which our ears are soothed by the gentle lapping of the starry ocean. Bathed in starlight, Kana's face remains as impassive as ever. And yet, something about it is different. It's just a feeling, of course—not something visible, like a flaw in a pattern or a misplaced stain. No, it's more like a hairline crack in a rock—so fine it seems nonexistent, if not betrayed by the fragility it creates.
No matter how hard the stone, under time's assault, it turns to sand.
— You've fought many opponents in your life, Kana. More than any of us. But if there's one opponent that, by nature, cannot be defeated alone, it's oneself. Do you know the difference between you and the other Shinzuits? The reason you feel like an outsider here? It's not because we've forgotten—not at all. No one talks about it, but nightmares don't just disappear so easily. The thing is, Kana, when we have a burden on our hearts—any unease eating us from within—we share it. You're the one keeping yourself apart by refusing to open up to us.
— And what difference would it make? If I suddenly spilled my heart out, said the words I never dared to say, shed the tears that never fell. No one here would understand. And that wouldn't bring the dead back to life, she says with that same emotionless, tearless gaze—like a frozen river.
— You might be right. No Shinzui could understand you. Which leaves only one candidate.
— What, you mean that amnesiac traveler? She looks at me in disbelief, and I meet her gaze with a firm nod. Pfff, I can't tell if you're trying to make me laugh or piss me off… He's like a newborn. What could he possibly understand about human cruelty?
— They say the truth comes from the mouths of children. If there's anyone here who could tell you your truths without holding back, it's him.
— As usual, you're spouting nonsense… Is the moonlight messing with your head?
On the contrary—bathed in this gentle light, I feel clearer-headed than ever. Even Kana, it seems, isn't immune to the moon's warmth. She looks more at peace than I've ever seen her. Even her sharp remarks lack their usual sting. More importantly, the face I've always known to be as tense as a drawn bowstring now seems as soft as the water's surface, its fragile transparency able to erode even the sturdiest rock.
Faced with such untamed beauty, a thought crosses my mind—one I never imagined I'd have.
∼ If I were a man, I would surely have fallen in love.
As I surprise myself with this thought, something even more unexpected takes my breath away. Without a glance or a word of warning, Kana's head drops onto my lap like a falling stone.
∼ What on earth got into her?!
A moment of silent understanding follows—where time freezes and words lose their place. I take the chance to observe her profile, particularly the delicate upturn of her nose and the small lobe of her ear, usually hidden beneath her fiery mane where my hand now absentmindedly weaves through.
For the first time, the girl before me doesn't appear as a terrifying monster, nor as a pitiful victim deserving my sympathy. She's just a simple teenager—young and fiery—whose fragile heart longs for joy and freedom.
— I'm tired, she murmurs suddenly, her voice weak but steady.
My hand stills for a moment before continuing its slow strokes through the fiery strands shimmering under the cold moonlight.
— Rest for now. Everything will work out… I promise.