A Promise in the Narrow Well
Rural relationships were narrow. In a village like this, opportunities to meet new people were scarce, and chances to experience a variety of things were even rarer. Within that cramped well, we had grown closer than simple friends—more like siblings or family. The worry we felt for one another had long since become something deeper than what ordinary friends shared. Even knowing that, I couldn't bring myself to accept Rein's pleading and say, "I won't go."
If I stayed here doing nothing, there might come a day when I couldn't protect the things I wanted to protect.
"It'll really be fine this time, okay?"
In the end, I turned around and repeated words that weren't much different from what I'd said two years ago. They were obvious and shameless, yet I still hoped for a second chance and asked for permission.
"...Liar."
Her voice, still sounding as if it were underwater, poured out resentment without restraint. Rein had immediately branded my words as a lie. She kept her head bowed low, probably because she didn't want me to see her still on the verge of tears. Now that we were nearly the same height, her face was hidden unless she deliberately hunched her shoulders. The desperation in her tone, as if she were speaking to someone she might never see again, made me force a smile and continue, trying to reassure her.
"It really will be fine. You have no idea how much stronger I've gotten."
I flexed my arms to either side, showing off the pitiful little muscles that popped up. It wasn't much to look at, but in this world, appearances didn't matter that much anyway. With my current physical condition, I could easily take on ten versions of myself from two years ago. Still, it seemed nowhere near enough to put Rein at ease.
"No. I don't want you to go... What if something happens again?"
"I'll just win and come back. Don't you even trust me that much?"
Desperate to escape the gloomy atmosphere, I poked my fingers into Rein's side while she was still sniffling. My forced laughter and playful jab caught her off guard, and she let out a sound that was somewhere between crying and laughing.
"Pfft—eek...! Hah, stop it...!"
Only then did she lift her head with an annoyed, slightly angry expression. I wiped away the forced playfulness and smiled faintly at the fuming Rein before speaking quietly.
"It really will be fine."
The words carried quiet certainty. Rein lowered her head again, hesitated for a moment, then held out one hand. From her tightly clenched fist, her pinky and thumb slowly emerged. The meaning of linking pinkies and pressing thumbs together was, as far as I knew, only one thing.
"...Then promise me."
We hooked our pinkies and pressed our thumbs together. It was a childish, insignificant promise between kids. Yet that single gesture seemed to carry more weight than a hundred words. Rein's expression finally softened a little.
What exactly is a woman's heart...?
With that strange thought lingering, I etched Rein's face—caught somewhere between tears and laughter—into my memory and slowly walked away from the closed door. I probably wouldn't fully understand a woman's heart even if I spent my entire life trying.
Instead of heading straight home, I made my way toward the fence on the outskirts of the village, near where the carriage had been parked. Just as he had been when we arrived yesterday, the old coachman sat by the fire, yawning lazily.
"You were here?"
"Oh, you're back? What's the matter—already planning to leave?"
When I approached and asked, he casually inquired if I was already heading out. I joined him by the crackling firewood, warming my body that had grown cold during the walk. My back stayed chilly while my face grew almost painfully hot from the flames. Feeling the extreme temperature difference, I shook my head and continued, making it clear that his schedule mattered more than my own thoughts.
"No, I just... wanted to know when you're planning to leave."
"Hmm, probably tomorrow morning. Since I'm already here, I figured I'd trade for some firewood and other supplies today..."
Phew.
At the mention of tomorrow morning, I let out a small sigh of relief inside. I'd been secretly anxious that he might say we had to leave right away. Come to think of it, he'd mentioned the wrinkled yellow fruit too. I wondered if he liked them. If we had any dried ones at home, I should bring some.
With no reason to stay outside any longer, I returned home right after speaking with the old man.
"You're back? How did it go?"
The moment I flung the door open, Mom straightened up from where she'd been bent over and asked how things had gone. Rubbing my still-aching chest and the raw wound in my heart, I glanced around cautiously before answering.
"I got hit pretty hard..."
"Serves you right, you little punk."
No sooner had I spoken than Dad, already seated at the table, scoffed that I deserved it. The awkwardness from yesterday and today had vanished like a lie, replaced by the same ordinary, everyday conversation that filled our home. I plopped down in my usual spot at the table as if it were the most natural thing in the world. In the midst of that relaxed routine, I casually dropped my one-sided announcement.
"I have to take the carriage tomorrow morning."
"Is that so."
"Already? You've barely been here..."
Unlike Dad, who replied indifferently without even looking up, Mom sounded genuinely disappointed. It didn't feel like they were brushing it off, but both of them seemed to have accepted, however reluctantly, that I was working as a mercenary. Only then did the last traces of tension leave me, and I offered the reason I had to leave so soon.
"I can't exactly walk all the way to the city, so I should go while the carriage is here."
"It's not that I'm against it. I'm just saying it's a shame."
When I lightly protested Mom's disappointed tone, she shot back that she wasn't really complaining, just feeling wistful. If we'd lived in the city, we could've at least exchanged letters through a courier. Village life wasn't bad, but that part always left me feeling regretful, so the words slipped out anyway.
"I'll earn a lot of money in the capital and buy you a house in the city."
"Haha, you don't have to do that."
Mom turned down the half-joking, half-serious offer with a laugh. It wasn't that she disliked our village, but staying here meant losing touch with the outside world. The fact that we couldn't even exchange letters was a particularly fatal flaw. If we'd only sent one letter this time, we could've avoided all the frowning and worry. Still, at least we'd let them know we were alive, so that was something. It was a shame I couldn't stay longer in my hometown, but when I thought about it being for myself, the people around me, and even the world, the disappointment was bearable. I understood.
More than that, maybe mercenary work was starting to suit me. After breakfast, I moved busily, preparing for tomorrow.
"Do we have any dried wrinkled yellow fruit left?"
"We've got more than enough. Why, want to take some?"
"Yeah, I was thinking of sharing some with the old coachman..."
Though it wasn't even past lunchtime yet, I checked this and that while preparing for tomorrow. In truth, I didn't know how things would play out in this bizarre world, but ever since arriving in the capital, I'd lived by the motto that you only had one life. No matter how perfect and stable a plan seemed, this world was full of monsters that could kill you instantly with a single mistake. In a reality where variables could arise at any moment, thorough preparation beyond what was necessary was essential.
What if your body was paralyzed and you were crawling on the floor—could you really use a paralysis antidote on yourself? That only works in games. The status-inflicting monsters that had been merely inconvenient in the game were the worst possible opponents now that I had no allies. At this point, it was basically Oath of Eternity on extreme hardcore mode. No companions yet, one death equals the end, and getting hit with a status effect would pretty much mean game over. If only I had that status-immunity ring you could get in the mid-to-late game...
Where was that thing again?
Since the thought had occurred to me, I searched my memory for the ring's location and acquisition conditions. I'd been so focused on leveling recently that the hidden item spots and requirements had started to fade. I should've written everything down in a notebook or on paper while it was still fresh. No matter how much I racked my brain, forgotten things weren't going to come back. Still, the names of new cities or villages would jog my memory, so I decided to think about it when the time came. It was like having a treasure chest only I knew about.
Anyway, after all that meticulous preparation, my backpack was once again stuffed full. Sleeping bag, dried fruits harvested from the village in autumn, various ointments, and ingredients. Mom looked at the overflowing bag with concern.
"You really don't need this much..."
"You're not coming back for a while, so take plenty."
Seeing her practically emptying the house to pack for me filled me with both gratitude and worry. Winter was still a long way off—had she thought this through? My uncomfortable, guilty expression must have shown, because Mom smacked me hard on the back, making me straighten up with a jolt.
"Don't you worry about a thing! Just focus on coming back safe and sound without getting hurt, got it?"
"...Yes. Thank you."
She must have read the guilt in my eyes, because she raised her voice to encourage me. My chest tightened with emotion. Thanking her, I hugged her from behind as she busied herself. Her hands gently covered the arms draped over her shoulders. All I felt was a complicated mix of guilt and gratitude.