Episode 1-b. The One Who Follows the Traces (1)
Traces are left behind as vast and deep as the heart itself, etched as profoundly and sharply as the depth of one's emotions. To some, they might be so faint they're invisible to the eye, but to a certain woman, they stand out vivid and clear. To some, they might be trivial, unworthy of a second glance, but to a certain woman, they stir the soul and evoke longing.
Thus, the woman inevitably traces the footprints left by her beloved, following the path of the past that has slipped away. What began as a mere faint mark will grow bit by bit, layered over by the traces she leaves in turn. With emotions now certain, she'll take up her brush and paint over those hazy remnants. Infusing it with love, with affection. With memories, with bittersweetness. Before long, her heart solidifies, yearning for just one person alone.
That emotion. It is a pure, unwavering gray love.
And so, a woman presses forward. Clumsy and imperfect, tilting her head in confusion yet stepping forth along the lingering traces. She carries the heart of that woman—a heart destined to connect past, present, and future. The love and affection already spoken of, the memories and bittersweetness. Now crystallized into a single emotion of yearning, along with all the stories she longs to share because of it. Pure love, unadulterated. Made possible only because she is the one receiving selfless love in return.
Therefore... I wish you luck. May your heart reach that man. May your pure, devoted feelings stir his very soul.
The carriage jolted along. Even after leaving the Empire far behind, the uneven road and the wheels' relentless harmony continued unabated. Every time it hit a bump, The carriage creaked unsteadily.
"Ugh..."
I'm still not used to it, so every bounce on the driver's seat sent a sharp twinge through my lower back. To be honest... I might have trained diligently in magic, over and over, but exercise? I skipped it constantly because it was too damn hard. Rini from the gym would drag me to the training grounds whenever I missed a day, hauling me out of the grocery store like a ragdoll. But eventually, I could recognize his footsteps from afar and would bolt out the back door—tap tap tap—just in time.
Thud—
"Eek...!"
In the end, here I am, driving this carriage and reaping the consequences of my laziness. Rini always said to exercise consistently, no excuses—and now I'm starting to get it. I was planning to sell off those ten boxes of protein supplements and workout gear in some other city, but now I'm hesitating a little.
Still... even amid this ordeal, I had zero desire to work out.
Thud—
"Ugh..."
I figured I'd rather stop the carriage, rest a bit, and then continue. Exercise pain couldn't be healed with magic, after all—he'd drilled that into me, eyes bulging, insisting the muscle tears and rebuilds were essential. So I decided to give up on exercise altogether. Yeah. On this already grueling trip, I didn't want to add workout agony to the mix. I hate exercise. Partly because of the heavy flesh weighing down my chest, and partly because of the heft on my rear.
A steady drizzle fell. The dirt road we traveled turned into sticky mud with every plip plop of raindrops. It was a sight I'd never seen in the Empire's capital—novel, even—but it wrecked my plan to rest briefly and press on. I abandoned the idea of pulling over to the shoulder and instead steered the carriage slowly into the woods.
Rain makes even campfires impossible, so I parked in a suitable spot and scanned the surroundings. No people. Not that anyone would be on a remote mountain path like this anyway. With that, I quietly chanted the spell.
"Blue sprouts."
"Soft grasses, spreading vines."
"Rise."
Mana surged out in an instant, rippling through the forest as the landscape shifted before my eyes. But now, no ashen powder scattered in the air. This was the fruit of my three years of effort. At least for simple, minor spells, I'd gritted my teeth to suppress the ash—and finally, it was paying off.
And so... the plants carpeting the ground grew enormous, intertwining to form a roof that could shelter even the carriage. They lifted slightly from the damp earth, layering dry grass and branches to keep my clothes from getting soaked. I climbed atop it, sinking my butt into the soft cushion, and murmured softly.
"..., Thank you."
It doesn't really mean anything, but it's become a habit whenever I use magic to alter the scenery. Something I picked up from Idrin while researching methods with her.
With that, I lit a campfire and unpacked a pot and ingredients from the carriage's cargo hold.
Crackle crackle—the fire's gentle pops filled the air. Staring into it always leaves me dazed, lost in old memories, just like now. I remember a rainy day like this, huddled under one umbrella with him, skin brushing skin as we walked. My shoes soaked through with that musty discomfort I surely hated, yet I couldn't help grinning foolishly. There was warmth. Hotter than the campfire's fierce flames, his intense heat that set my body ablaze. Even now, it makes my cheeks flush.
Since fully realizing my feelings, thinking of him sets my heart racing uncontrollably. I like you. I love you. Ain, I yearn for you. I repeat those words inwardly, searching for sweeter ones. The whirlwind of emotions that once churned inside me has condensed into love—but it's so vast it swells and splits into many again. Old feelings gain flesh: longing, aching tenderness. Simple affection, fierce passion. Adoration, longing, infatuation. One word—love—feels woefully inadequate, so I divide and define my heart endlessly.
"..., Ain."
Lost in thoughts of him for so long, my mind grows hazy, breath quickens, and I end up grinning idiotically—heh.
It tickles constantly. My pounding heart now flutters, my body twists and squirms.
"Hnn..."
A sticky breath escapes my lips, consumed by the fire with a crackle and gone.
And then.
"Um, ex-cuse meee..."
"Ah."
The voice from behind made me whip my hand toward it, mana surging forth. No ash, but enough threatening residue billowed from my palm.
"Eek! I-I surrender...! I-I just came to say the pot's burning...!"
"..."
The raggedly dressed woman who'd approached froze in terror, then slipped and fell into a rain puddle.
"Waaah... I-I saw smoke from afar... and my stomach was so empty..."
"..."
Seeing her crumple into instant tears, I waved my hand to dispel the mana.
"No spares, and now my underwear's soaked too... Ah, it stinks..."
"..."
Sure enough, a faint burnt smell reached my nose. Not yellowed from the rain, but amid the intensified grassy scent, an unpleasant odor mingled in.
Still.
"If... if you have spare clothes, could I borrow some...?"
"..., Come in. I'll give you clothes and food."
"Waaah... Thank you... C-could you give me clothes first...? If I climb up like this, it'll be a bit... Yeah..."
She looked so pitiful—honestly, too pitiful—that I found myself offering her a spot without thinking.
The campfire blazed a little fiercer. The pot bubbled with stew, wet clothes hung on branches encircling the flames.
"Waaah... Stew after so long... Hate jerky..."
"..."
"Thank you... Thank you..."
To put it simply, she was the first person I'd met on my journey. A pitiful adventurer, too lowly and obscure to even recognize who I was.