A Master's Farewell
I am lucky.
I can't play the newly released Animal Crossing. I can't drink my beloved Dr Pepper anymore. And I'll never... see my family again.
There's an old saying that fortune and misfortune are two sides of the same coin. It means the blessings and calamities of a life are impossible to predict. I use it more simply: when something bad comes, something good follows.
Because I met my master.
Every scrap of luck I was owed — luck in proportion to the misfortune of being thrown without warning into another world — I must have spent it all on meeting him.
When a modern person suddenly falls into a world they've never seen, what are the odds of finding someone so impossibly full of kindness?
Master didn't just save my life from a pig-headed monster wielding an axe. He was the first person in this world to offer me warm food and a place to stay. He taught me the written word and the spoken language, the civilization of this place, and so I was able to adapt. He taught me what it means for a human being to live in the wild.
And that master... is dying in front of me.
"Don't cry, Messi. To live out your natural years and die is considered a great blessing among the people of this land."
My master, comforting me even as I wept. He was such a good man. That was why the tears would not stop.
I'd been a middle schooler when I first fell into this world. By now I would have been old enough for college, and the death of someone close to me was still a stranger. What's more, he was the only person in this other world I had ever given my heart to. The man who had saved me. How could I not cry?
If Master died, I would truly be alone here. The standing-on-my-own that I should have begun five years ago — I would have to start it now.
"If you grieve like that, I won't be able to leave in peace. Would you make a traveler bound for a distant road keep looking back?"
I'm sorry, Master. But I can't stop the tears.
"Death is another beginning... I'm busy enough looking forward, heading somewhere. Please don't make me worry."
Master paused for a beat, then forced his mouth open again with difficulty.
"First... I should apologize. I wanted to take responsibility for you until the end, after bringing you out of the forest. But a person's lifespan, as the gods have set it, is beyond any human power to change. I knew my remaining time was short, and in my impatience I had no choice but to teach you rather harshly, so you would adapt. If I ever hurt your feelings — if you ever felt wronged — please forgive me."
No, Master... I lived in Korea, of all places. What you call harsh teaching was nothing at all. You don't have to be sorry.
"And I apologize again, to the you who will be thrown by my sudden death. I didn't want to teach you what it means to lose something. I wanted to put off the sadness and show you only happiness. It was an old man's greed — I wanted to see your bright face, even a little, before I went. In the end I only wounded you. Don't resent me for it."
If it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't have smiled even once. I would have died long ago. Can't you tell, seeing me cry like this? I don't resent you at all.
Master stared at the ceiling as if he meant to bore a hole through it, fighting for each shallow breath. Every exhale that escaped him felt like his life itself leaking away.
"Messi, from the first moment I saw you, I never stopped wondering how you ought to live once you were left alone. I knew there wouldn't be time to pass on everything I knew, so I focused only on what would help you survive. If you can manage it, living alone in the forest wouldn't be a bad way."
His wrinkled hand stroked my weeping face.
"You don't look like the people here, and your hair and eyes are black. You can't help but draw attention. It would be best to live as far from others as you can. If this were some quiet little wood and not the Forest of Resentment, I would certainly have told you to do just that..."
"But this place is home to countless monsters, and to countless unknowns. The Forest of Resentment is not a place any human can approach unless they are a professional Woodcutter. Living here by yourself would be hard. I taught you as much as I could about surviving alone, but it's only enough for the world outside the forest."
I know what you're trying to say. You want me to leave this place.
"Go to the village I sometimes took you to, and find Leto the herb gatherer. You've seen him a few times. I've already asked a favor of him. He'll help you, at least until you've found your footing there. From now on, you won't be Messi, disciple of Barcelo who lives in the Forest of Resentment. You'll live as Messi, a member of Benuda Village... With the healing arts and hunting skills I taught you, surviving there shouldn't be difficult."
I understand, Master. I'll do as you say.
I nodded. But if I truly pushed myself, surviving this forest alone was probably possible. I had what Master had taught me, and I had watched carefully how he lived here. I was confident I could follow that example. I couldn't bring myself to do it, though. Not when I thought of how he had worried over my small peace of mind until the moment of his death.
"And until you've grown used to the civilization of this place, don't neglect your learning. The world is far more unwelcoming than you imagine. You don't look like us, and the things this world takes for granted will be strange to you, or simply unknown. If others see that, they will shun you, ignore you... and sometimes despise you. All the more reason you cannot afford to remain ignorant."
I know. I know there will never be another person who treats me without prejudice the way you did. Meeting you after falling into this world was a stroke of luck that will never come again in my life.
"If anyone asks about your origins, tell them you are of the Forest Tribe... The people here have a deep habit of looking down on mixed blood. They'd rather honor a pure lineage even of a different race, so if you're going to bluff, do it in a way that works in your favor..."
I nodded and nodded. Master's advice went on without end. I knew these were his last words, and that every one of them came from worry for me, so I carved them into my mind without missing a single syllable.
When he had finished every piece of advice he had prepared, his voice — so heavy until then — returned to its usual cheer.
"You little brat. Were you planning not to let me hear your voice even once before I die?"
"...I've been crying so much since the day before yesterday that I've gone hoarse."
"Ah. I'm sorry."
Master asked me to tell him about the world I came from, right up until he closed his eyes. This was the same man who until now had pretended not to know, and had never once asked. He said that, from the position of someone about to set out on a distant journey, he wanted to hear stories of another world.
I talked — from stories of my family to the pettiest talk of snacks, and even, in my hoarse voice, that the name I had introduced myself with was actually that of a famous soccer player.
A good deal of time passed. Master had been roaring with laughter as he listened — and then, at some point, he stopped responding. I hadn't rested my mouth until then, and my lips had dried and split. I tasted blood.
So this is what the death of someone precious tastes like. Blood.
"......"
Strangely, looking at my dead master, no tears came. I had already shed so many — and it had sunk in that, with his death, standing on my own had truly begun.
I healed my lips, then slipped the ring from Master's finger and onto my own. There weren't many keepsakes that would call him to mind.
I packed what I would take and set fire to the wooden cabin where we had lived.
I couldn't leave his body to rot. Still less could I bear the thought of monsters catching the scent of decay, bursting in, and chewing on my teacher's flesh.
The flames surged up with a roar.
Burns well...
The blaze heated my face. Even without the firelight, I would probably have been flushed. Was it because memories of living here with Master had just flashed through me? Or because the future ahead stirred excitement and fear in equal measure?
The hesitation lasted only a moment. I decided to get out at once. By burning the house, I would have drawn the eyes of every monster in the vicinity — which made it that much easier for me to slip away.
This, too, was something Master had taught me.
This was what I had to do from now on. To carry out what Master had taught me. To grow stronger.
At last, to stand on my own.