The Festival (Part 5)
Being cornered out of nowhere with a question caught me completely off guard.
She looks rather desperate, though.
Piteously enough, she seemed to carry a complicated burden.
Well, first things first—I had to find out what she even wanted to ask.
"Ask me what, exactly?"
"Something happened... and I don't know if what I'm doing is right, or how the other person will take it. I was hoping to borrow your wisdom."
"Mmm..."
Worrying for nothing, then.
If she had sprung some vicious inquiry on me demanding where I had learned that theory, I had been mentally preparing to gloss over it by claiming I picked it up at the Academy.
Since it appeared to be a personal matter, I felt a slight hesitation. Still, someone had lent a hand; it was only human decency to return the favor. Besides, it didn't sound like she would ask anything too troublesome.
So I decided to agree readily.
"Go ahead and speak. If my perspective can help at all, I'd be glad to share it."
Escort No. 181 hesitated for a moment as if she hadn't expected me to accept so easily. After a brief pause, she parted her lips.
Her story was complicated. Even calling it a personal matter, one could say it was tangled into an utter mess.
What path had she ended up treading after judging someone through warped eyes, guided solely by prejudice and preconceived notions layered over an illusion of him in her memory?
She had sinned.
Without properly weighing cause and effect, without taking the time to think things through, she had acted rashly. That sin was the price.
And she had incurred a debt.
Letting her emotions run ahead of her actions had saddled her with an indelible burden.
With guilt heaped upon debt, she needed to apologize to him and beg for his forgiveness.
Yet she couldn't.
Her mind screamed at her to do so, but her body refused to follow through.
He didn't want it. Not seeing her, not speaking with her.
Tossing and turning in anguish, she had sought advice from those around her, but she still couldn't be certain whether this was the right path.
So for her—having made such grievous errors out of prejudice—this was her last chance.
Not as the sinner buried under guilt and debt, but simply as Escort No. 181, to hear his true feelings.
Gulping down her saliva, she watched Porter No. 229 with desperate eyes.
This is tough.
Having heard her entire story, Junon found it hard to offer a hasty reply.
It should have been simple. A tale that could be neatly wrapped up with a single word of encouragement.
Yet the reason he hesitated to answer was that, somehow, he saw his own reflection in her words.
With a heavy heart, he broke the silence.
"I... believe that whatever the task may be, anyone who makes an earnest effort will eventually be rewarded."
The wandering eyes of No. 181 snapped wide open.
"There was a time when I wanted to give up, too. No matter how hard I tried, instead of helping, I only held everyone back. Falling behind, getting called dead weight, a nuisance..."
"Ah..."
"So I was certain those people would grow to hate me. But in reality, they didn't."
He sounded as if he were speaking from personal experience.
Was even this part of the memories she did not possess?
No. There was no time to dwell on that now.
"Earlier, you said you committed a great wrong against the other person, right? And because of that, you believe they must despise you terribly."
"...Yes."
"That is definitely not the case."
How could he sound so certain?
As if to explain why, he strolled over toward the spot in the canyon where they had built the campfire and looked down at the charred firewood.
"Here. When we built the fire in this spot, do you remember how the others crowded around and grilled us, complaining that they were suffering while we were just leisurely warming ourselves?"
"I remember. I saw it myself..."
She nodded in response.
No matter how many times the plan was explained to them, those people were so displeased by anyone appearing to do nothing that they repeatedly questioned the situation.
A few individuals had remained suspicious to the very end, though back then, there had been no need for a mediator to step in.
"From the outside, it might have looked like we were just basking by the fire, but in truth, we were warming meat to feed everyone. And we were keeping it from burning, roasting it until it was golden-brown. That's why it looked that way."
"I know that, but..."
She couldn't fathom why he was bringing that up now.
"It's the same principle. Even if you wronged them, why assume they harbor hatred toward you? Did they ever say a single word to that effect? Or did they openly berate you and place all the blame on your shoulders?"
"That's..."
They hadn't.
Though his words had poured out like a barrage of suppressed indignation, that hadn't been what he meant.
He had simply told her not to stop him or pretend to know him, warning that he didn't know what he might do.
He hadn't uttered a single curse. Rather than scolding her, he had merely unleashed the wrath that had been stewing inside him all along. And he had never blamed her.
So that's...
Only now did she understand what he meant.
"If they truly hated you, they would have shown at least some small sign. They'd go out of their way to sabotage you, try to drive wedges behind your back, or in the worst case, seek relentless revenge. If it came to that... they would resort to any means necessary."
He had shown no such signs. While he had vented his fury, he hadn't fully bared his heart.
He hadn't even attempted to sow discord, so that was out of the question; and had he wanted revenge, he would have taken it long ago.
So do not jump to such extreme conclusions.
That was what his words conveyed.
"You mentioned that you regret your actions, yet you cannot bring yourself to face them and apologize. You said the crushing weight of your guilt makes it agonizing even to look at them. And so, you asked whether it's right to follow others' advice and quietly help from the shadows, wondering if that's the proper way to act..."
Speaking thus, he casually scooped up a handful of sand from the spot where the firewood had once burned brightly.
And then, he let it slip through his fingers.
"I don't think you're wrong at all. Even if the person doesn't know it, you are still helping them indirectly. No matter what anyone says, that single truth will never change. Just like the embers that were once here."
With a soft rustle, the ember was snuffed out.
As he buried the lone ember that still held faint warmth amid the heap of blackened charcoal, he added those words.
The ember soon lost its glow, completely swallowed by the handful of sand.
The flame appeared to have faded into an ember and vanished, but the fire had truly existed here.
Though it no longer flared as it once had, no one could deny that a blaze had once burned with all its might on this ground, radiating warmth to keep the bitter cold at bay.
Why had he buried the ember here while saying those things?
Now, she felt she finally understood.
The fact that a flame had blazed here, fending off the chill for them all, was an undeniable reality that could never be erased.
Something began to well up deep inside her.
"They might not recognize it right now, but someday they will. They'll see your effort—how you refused to collapse under the weight of your guilt and stood back up, trying to be of help."
Hearing him say that the person would understand someday stirred something profound in her chest.
That swelling sensation rose gently, climbing through her torso, growing heavier with every beat.
Swelling with each passing moment, it reached its destination at last, bursting forth in a single stream.
"Wait, I didn't mean to make you..."
Dusting off the sand from his hands, he stood up, offering only a piteous gaze in silence.
It was already far too late to conceal the tears streaming down her face, glossing her cheeks.
Why won't it stop...?
She wished the tears would cease.
Though it was her own body, why was she so resentful of the tear ducts that kept churning out streams of water without a care for her dignity?
No matter how many times she wiped them away, the tears kept falling.
"...It must be equal to those tears."
"Pardon? What do you..."
"I mean that your guilt must be as heavy as the tears you're shedding, and your desire to earn forgiveness just as immense."
"..."
At those words, she lost even the composure to wipe her eyes.
Conscious that making any sound would give her away, she clamped her hands over her mouth, desperately stifling her ragged sobs.
"Stay strong."
Leaving those parting words, he stepped away, granting her space as if telling her it was all right to cry her heart out now.
How could she possibly hold it in?
"Ugh... hic...!"
The guilt she had bottled up inside broke free in a torrent of sound.
Unable to endure it any longer, wanting nothing more than to cry, she wailed aloud.
Praying with all her heart that the sound wouldn't reach him as he made his way out of the canyon.
Feelings she had tried so desperately to suppress—Aris could do nothing but pour them out in her tears and voice.
Bang—!
As if sensing her desperate prayer, a stray, delayed firework finally exploded in the sky, drowning out the sobs echoing through the canyon.
Today was the opening day of the festival.
And simultaneously, the day a lotus that had withered under guilt began to reclaim its true self.
"Maybe it felt too close to home. Did I end up rambling for no reason?"
I had been the same before my regression.
Watching each member of that star-studded party reach unfathomable heights, I had been frantic just trying to keep up.
Through grueling, blood-soaked effort, I gave everything I had just to avoid dragging them down.
And did people acknowledge that? Not at all.
The world's gaze was fixed solely on the other party members, while not a shred of credit returned to me.
Instead, all I heard were harsh words telling me to know my place and voluntarily leave rather than holding them back.
Yes. There was a time when I, too, was ready to give up, convinced that no one would ever recognize my efforts.
Yet I managed to overcome it.
"There's a faint thread of mana every night—you think I wouldn't notice that, you idiot?"
"You don't need to listen to what others say, Junon. Though it's a shame I can't help you..."
"As party leader, I know better than anyone that you're growing. The others might be few, but I bet they feel it too. That's why they don't say much, right?"
When I stood on the brink of a cliff, ready to throw in the towel.
When I offered to step down so I wouldn't hold the party back.
It was because there were people who had recognized my efforts all along.
They had told me they couldn't bring themselves to offer hollow words of encouragement or tell me not to give up, and they had hesitated to approach me because public scrutiny might hurt me even more.
In the end, that single small change wrought from blood and sweat—the fruit of my labor—was something my comrades had acknowledged.
Drawing upon that past experience, I had offered my advice to Escort No. 181.
While part of me wondered if I had meddled too much, old memories had drifted back to the surface, tugging at my heart.
"Well, if it helped her, that's what matters. In any case, I hope she finds some closure."
All's well that ends well.
For now, the merchant caravan had been rescued by the dispatch from the Academy, and it looked like the festival would proceed without a hitch.
"Ugh, I'm exhausted."
Between hauling so much cargo and pushing my body to the limit escaping the canyon, every joint in my frame was popping and creaking.
"This is definitely overtime. Shouldn't I be getting bonus pay for this?"
Complaining under my breath, I changed back into my uniform and arrived at the Academy, just as the burst of fireworks announced the start of the festival.
Bang—! Bang, bang—!
Students' voices filled the evening air, and the darkness was brightly illuminated by the night market and the Academy's lanterns.
"...Looks like I'm alone for this festival."
An annual celebration.
Coinciding with the anniversary of our official team designation, this festival carried quite a bit of meaning for us.
Normally by this time, even if we couldn't properly enjoy the festivities, I would have been strolling through the night market with those guys.
...Yet rather lonesomely, I was by myself tonight.
Well, I got paid, so I might as well buy myself a hearty meal of good food. I worked myself to the bone today; the least I could do was satisfy my stomach.
Just as I was about to turn my steps toward the night market—
"Junon sunbaeeeeee!!"
Silver hair fluttering in the breeze, a girl came bounding toward me like a little rabbit.