Chapter 20. She Was (10)
Time passed painfully slowly.
As if it were moving at the same pace as my desperate waiting for the two years I’d been given.
Each day stretched on and on, long beyond reason.
Time was so terribly relative that when I prayed for it to hurry, it always seemed to approach from far away at a crawl, and when I let it drift by in a daze, it would suddenly appear at my side and tell me the day was over.
And after receiving my teacher’s letter, I was always desperate.
So desperate, and still more desperate.
Wanting and wanting and wanting, until all I did was wait my way through one day and into the next.
As always, alone.
So I climbed halfway up the mountain and sat on the lip of the cliff, gazing at the sky.
It was still blue, but if I waited a little longer, it would blush red and announce the day’s end.
I had already finished everything I needed to do for the day, so I simply burned away the hours.
To be honest, once I’d shown the villagers how I handled the work I used to do, I no longer had much to occupy me at all.
The village men had taken it upon themselves to carry my burdens, saying they couldn’t keep pushing work onto a child forever. I only had to step in when the villagers failed a hunt and there was no meat to be had, or when some wild beast appeared that a shabby wooden spear couldn’t possibly deal with.
In other words, my role in the village had been shrinking little by little, just as I had once hoped the scenery would when I prepared to leave.
Then Sophia called to me from below.
“Aria! Hurry down! Didn’t I tell you today was the festival?”
Looking down, I saw Sophia, who was steadily shedding the last traces of childhood.
Already fourteen years old, she was growing into a lovely young woman.
Her body, once thin from years of not having enough to eat, had finally begun to curve in soft, rounded lines, and her face had filled out prettily beneath her bright smile.
“...Right.”
I gave a quiet nod and dropped from the cliff.
Instead of the sickening plunge I’d once felt, there was only a gentle sense of floating.
Mana held me up, lifting me lightly through the air toward Sophia.
“Aria! I told you not to come down like that. My heart’s really going to give out one of these days...!”
“Walking all the way around would’ve taken forever.”
I brushed the dirt from my clothes and said it matter-of-factly.
It was a method I’d learned while growing used to magic.
It hadn’t been something my teacher taught me, but by now I was always discovering and mastering one thing after another on my own.
“Still, you really...!”
“Come on, let’s go. It’s the festival, isn’t it?”
“Ugh... fine. Let’s go already.”
Sophia knew perfectly well how stubborn I could be, so even while letting out a long sigh, she started walking.
It was autumn, when I was twelve.
In the richest harvest season the village had known in years, a festival was being held.
********
Ever since the harvest season of autumn drew near, the village had always held a small festival.
If the year had been poor, then that was one thing. But on a good harvest year—though, to be honest, there had never really been a year anyone could truly call prosperous—they set aside a little of the grain they normally would have guarded so carefully, used it to cook meals, and even made rice cakes.
They also sliced up those valuable strips of dried meat and boiled them slowly in a pot.
They probably chose to boil it instead of roasting it as a way of saying: if there wasn’t enough meat to go around, at least drink the broth.
The villagers treasured even that broth and drank it with reverence.
And so, as the harvest season came around again this year, the festival was held as a matter of course.
This time, though, unlike before, it was a festival that was generous and abundant in every way.
From the great cauldron set in the center of the village, pale steam rose in thick coils.
Beside it, above the bonfire they’d built, a wild boar caught the day before was roasting whole.
And if I was dragged there by Sophia’s hand, trudging along with her to that place...
“Oh, Aria, you’re here! Come on in! Rest a little, and we’ll bring you something delicious in just a moment!”
“My, Aria! Would you like to come have some sikhye? Or you can go over there and play with the children if you want!”
“Aria!”
“Haha, Aria, hurry over here!”
The village elders welcomed me with bright smiles.
Before I knew it, one of them had placed a cup of sikhye in my hand and led me to a broad wooden platform to sit.
“Aria, this is all thanks to you. Because you’re here, this year’s festival has become so splendid.”
That was what they said.
That it was all thanks to me.
That because I was here, everyone could smile so happily.
As they said it, they gave my shoulder a gentle pat.
“...Yes.”
So all I could do was nod.
A year.
After a span of time so short I could barely even call it a year, I would no longer be able to see this scene.
But I still couldn’t bring myself to tell them I would be leaving the village.
The expectations they poured on me, the affection they offered, the belief that I would remain with them forever in Penrin Village—all of it was still uncomfortable to me.
The festival’s excitement grew hotter and hotter as the day went on.
The laughter that had begun in the daytime gradually swelled and spread to everyone except me.
They looked happy.
As though possessed by good cheer, they spent the time dancing and swaying together.
They piled happiness upon happiness so no one would ever regret missing the one and only festival they were allowed to enjoy each year.
And I was glad for that.
Rather than a landscape that was bleak all on its own, I thought it was better if everyone was smiling, even if I wasn’t.
It was a peaceful scene set against my own heart, which had sunk low and hollow.
I had nothing, and yet they were all smiling as if they possessed everything in the world.
I thought it was a relief that I might be fine even if I disappeared.
That was what I was thinking when...
“Aria, my little one.”
At the voice calling me, I looked up.
“...Yes.”
The one who called me little one was my mother.
Of everyone in the village, she was the one who looked at me with the deepest, most loving eyes.
“...Little one, isn’t the festival very fun?”
“...”
I didn’t answer, but honestly, it wasn’t fun.
I felt myself standing apart from the scene before me.
Everyone was holding someone’s hand, leaning shoulder to shoulder, and then quietly embracing one another, smiling as they looked at each other.
But you weren’t beside me.
You, who had always been with me, were gone, and the space beside me was nothing but a cold, empty draft.
Still, Mother kept inching toward that empty place.
“Mm. This mother wants you to be happy, little one. I say it all the time, but I still want to say it again.”
“...”
She had always said she wanted me to be happy.
“Aria, you’ve been thoughtful ever since you were little. You were like that even when you covered for your useless brother’s mistake by saying it was your own fault. And when you always pretended not to care while still taking care of what needed to be done, that was the same, too.”
“...”
I had only said it was my fault because I hated the heavy mood back then.
I had only been doing what needed to be done because I was already an adult in mind.
But she had praised me for it, saying she was proud of me and that I was wonderfully considerate.
“Whenever you cried, I wiped away tears when no one was looking. My child was crying, and yet there was nothing I could do for you. I couldn’t even make sure you ate properly.”
“...No, it’s not that.”
I knew what she had sacrificed.
I knew the love she gave as a mother, taking in children who were little more than burdens and still embracing them all.
I knew the love of a mother who went out alone before dawn, breathing warm air onto her chilled hands as she worked the fields.
I knew the love of a mother who returned when night was close, and even with her exhausted body, still smiled at me so kindly.
“Even with a mother as hopeless as me, you were always so steady. And now you’ve even used that strange power of yours to feed the village.”
When I first brought down a deer and shared the meat, Mother had wept with joy.
Even though I had only been busy crying because I missed you.
She had cried, saying she was happy I seemed to have grown well, and yet also sorry that she’d placed such a heavy burden on me.
And every morning she rose early to prepare my meals.
Even when I wasn’t hungry, she would look at me so earnestly, insisting that I had to eat.
She used the salt she had saved and placed small portions of meat, eaten only little by little, onto my plate so I could have it.
“So it’s all right if you don’t say anything. I’ll always love you, and you’ll always be my daughter.”
“...”
And yet.
Even while being showered with that love.
I still couldn’t bring myself to answer my mother.
“So find what you want, and be happy, all right?”
“...”
To my mother, who wanted nothing more than my happiness, who smiled at me with such tenderness...
“I love you, Aria.”
And to my mother, who hugged me so gently while telling me she loved me again...
“...”
Even at the very end, I still couldn’t say I loved her back.
I only gave the smallest nod.
The festival’s heat kept burning even after nightfall, but Mother and I simply watched the scene in silence.
I thought of you, and Mother thought of me.
And so we let time slip by.
I could feel Mother’s rough hand resting on my head.
So I’m sorry.
For I have something I long for so desperately that I can’t give you my love.