Episode 0-b. The One Who Tumbles (1)
Time flows on. Three years. It passed equally for those who moved forward and those left behind.
But whether the weight of that time was equal as well—no one could say.
Whether the gray time was truly the same as that of ordinary folk, whether the burden of that wait was really just three years.
No one could reach that truth.
But the gray woman left behind on the empire's fading stage knew. The woman waiting only for the traveler who had set out for her sake, only to vanish before her eyes.
In other words, she was undoubtedly the world's calamity.
Her talents overflowed so abundantly.
A sword saint's blade would shatter at a single incantation from her lips.
A grand mage's full-powered strike, unleashing a storm—erased without a trace.
The beastkin chieftain's halberd, splintered.
The dragon's flames, frozen solid.
Elven arrows and ogre fangs.
Dwarven hammers and fairy dust.
All of it swept away by her wrath alone, meeting death.
And the woman would topple the charges of countless heroes, bending them to submission.
But even so, the woman restrained her instincts.
Ignoring such emotions, simply waiting, enduring.
Patiently, painfully holding on with the hope that one traveler would move forward and find happiness.
Some might worry, others pity her.
But such things held little meaning for her now.
Only the one traveler pressing toward his goal mattered to her.
Yet cruelly, the story flows on.
Even if the woman stumbles at last.
Even if she writhes in agony and weeps bitterly.
Once the ink has smeared, trials like these will come to her again and again.
The gray witch, Belia.
No. The gray woman, Asha.
Choose.
For the new □□.
The market street was always bustling.
"Asha, here you go. I put in a bit more than usual, so don't give it all to that Rendo fellow—save some for yourself."
"Ah, thank you. See you next time."
"Yeah, come again soon!"
The scenery of the market street where I lived was always warm and familiar.
People greeted me with smiles, and the shop owners I'd grown close to always slipped me extras.
So I pulled a candy from the bag the owner handed me and popped it into my mouth.
Sweet and sticky, it clung to every corner as I rolled it around, leaving its trace.
When I diligently scraped the bits off my teeth with my tongue, a fresh wave of sweetness rushed in, filling my mouth.
It had become a habit now. Even as I walked the streets, I kept taking out one candy after another.
But.
Whether it still held the same sweetness as before.
Or the same stickiness.
Or if the candy still felt as warm to me.
If someone asked, I might just give a hollow laugh and shake my head.
In just three years, it had become something else entirely.
The candy was sweet, but now a little bitter.
Sticky, yet it fell away with a pop.
The warmth it once carried had drifted far away, leaving only coldness behind.
It no longer made me hazy.
No more floating, drifting feeling.
A single candy couldn't even make time pass faster anymore.
"Ain."
So I uttered words sweeter than that.
"Ain."
Of course, even this had changed in the meantime.
It had grown more desperate, more forlorn than before.
"…I miss you."
Soaked in my emotions, it became a pitiful sob.
I walked on, passing people by.
Muttering it all the way back to the grocery store.
And I.
"Ain."
Muttered it one last time, then lifted the corners of my mouth a little.
Forced my eyes to curve gently, cleared my throat with a hem-hem.
Knock-knock. I stepped inside.
"Good work, Asha. Come in and rest."
"Errands done, Uncle."
I smiled at the uncle whose face now bore a few more wrinkles.
This was my routine, going on three years now.
The grocery store was still busy.
"Asha, when you get a moment, restock the veggies over here!"
"Right away. Excuse me, customer."
Still hectic, still chaotic.
It was surely because of the busyness that my body ached, keeping my mind from growing too tangled.
Yet even so.
Three years on, the absence of one person was still keenly felt, driving me to scurry about unlike myself.
"Asha, sorry, but could you handle this too?"
"…Yes, Uncle, you do what you usually do."
My surroundings were always packed with customers; I shouldn't have had time to feel lonely.
But over those three years, not a single day passed without me staring at the empty spot beside me.
"…."
So even in the rush, I'd gaze fixedly at where he used to stand.
Then flinch at a customer's urging, shoulders trembling, and turn back to the daily grind.
I'd said it was fine.
Said I could wait.
That I'd live for him, endure any pain for his sake.
I'd sent him off with those words.
But, Ain.
Others fill his empty space with something else and move on, but for me, that void only grows larger.
Day after day stacking up, the emptiness swells bit by bit.
Now my smile starts to tremble.
A clump of ash gathers in my hidden hand.
"…, Ain."
I've held on for three years for you, but now… truthfully, it's too much.
The world without you.
It's a little— no, far too overwhelming and frightening for me.
Acting unaffected, I greet the next customer.
"…, Next customer. I'll help with payment."
Savoring the peace you earned for me is painful.
Yet I squeeze my eyes shut at the feel of the bracelet still firmly bound, and press on.
"Thank you. …Please visit Illeina Grocery again."
After all, the promise we shared was all I had left.
So.
Good girl.
I had to remain a good girl even without him.
I didn't want to revert to the beast that couldn't even keep that small promise.
Betray that, and all I'd have left was the empty seat beside me.
When the grocery work ended, I always headed out.
The market streets, familiar from years past, hadn't changed, so even wandering aimlessly led me to the usual places.
The bakery Ain and I had visited still steamed invitingly.
The candy shop we went to together still wafted sweet scents.
Clack.
My heels echoed as I walked on.
The clothing store we stopped at had thicker garments out for the chill.
The street food we'd shared looked as appetizing as ever.
Clack.
My footsteps steady as always.
Bowing my head to those greeting me here and there.
Clack.
I walked on, taking in all the things we'd done together.
The shabby antique shop.
The noodle house with its wooden sign.
The tailor where I'd mended my torn skirt hem.
Clack.
My steps slowing a bit, I passed them one by one, gazing.
Before I knew it, I stood before the alley that once reeked of my childhood filth, and blankly stepped into its depths.
In other words, I always chased memories.
"…."
His clear thud footsteps no longer sounded.
All I had left were our promise, our memories.
I stroked the unbroken bracelet and wandered the streets endlessly.
I miss him.
Memories soften the heart, yet make it ache with longing and sorrow.
Before long, I kept replaying only the things we'd shared.
And.
Clack.
As I slowly walked into the alley, something bumped inside, echoing.
"Haha, I win!"
"Ah, rematch! I went easy that time!"
Children's giggling voices followed.
When I finally peered into that scene.
"Whoa? It's that pretty big sis from the grocery store."
"…."
The kids, crouched over small, colorful marbles, looked up at me and murmured.
They stared blankly awhile, faces flushing, fidgeting, mouths opening and closing.
Then they scooped up their marbles and approached me.
"Here! Take these, sis."
And abruptly pressed them into my hand before scampering off pat-pat-pat.
The children vanished, leaving me with two marbles.
"…."
Colorful, sparkling beautifully—ones you'd think were pretty.
I gazed at them a moment, then smiled bitterly.
Now I knew.
The worth of the two marbles I'd given as a child.
They were so worthless kids could just hand them over casually—worthless enough they couldn't even buy money.
And.
The smile he'd worn upon receiving them, relieved thanks to me, rose in my mind.
"…, Ain's an idiot."
Looking back now, it was surely a lie.
A silly lie, uttered to reassure my hesitant self.
Yet recalling it brought no shame or embarrassment.
What I felt was something soft and fluttering.
Only the warmth of that lie he'd told for my sake lingered.
"…, Ain."
And with just these worthless marbles, he'd made my heart thump-thump.
So.
To others, they might be trifles, but to me, they were priceless.
Even if worth mere pennies in coin, his smile upon receiving them surpassed that.
At least to me, they held that value.
Enough that I'd give my life to see his smile again.
And I.
Want to see his smile once more.
I've come to know this feeling called longing.
Ain.
I miss you.
Just three years, but.
To me, longer and more agonizing than the past ten.
I miss you so much.