Epilogue 1

Deep in the heart of Dewdrop Dell—a city that thrived beneath the morning dew—Toriyami wandered the streets, a threadbare hood covering his face. He wasn’t looking for trouble. Just enough coin for a meal.

His stomach growled. “Three days,” he muttered. His voice was hoarse from hunger. “Three days without food. Pathetic.”

Finding a shadowed alley, he sank down against a wall and pulled back his hood. Even in hiding, the world moved on without him. Townsfolk bustled by, laughing, trading, calling out to friends. No one noticed him. He wasn’t a beggar—he wasn’t ready to ask for handouts. Not yet. But time was running out. Another two days, maybe, he would be able to survive without food, and then his pride wouldn’t matter anymore.

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the ache in his belly.

“Chu.”

His eyes snapped open. A small hedgehog sniffed at his shoes, quills bristling in curiosity.

Toriyami blinked. “And who are you?” He chuckled, reaching out to stroke the hedgehog’s head. “Lost like me, are you?”

The hedgehog leaned into the touch, making happy noises to show he liked the way Toriyami was touching him.

“He doesn’t usually take to people so easily,” came a girlish giggle.

Toriyami looked up and found himself staring into sapphire blue eyes. A young witch with snowy white hair and bright pink clothing knelt, picking the hedgehog up. As she stood, she cradled the hedgehog in her arms. “Come now, Chu,” she cooed. Then she turned her gaze back to Toriyami, studying him thoughtfully.

Without a word, she reached into her basket and withdrew a flask and a small bag of bread. “Here,” she offered with a gentle smile.

Toriyami frowned, inspecting the offering in her hands. “Why?”

Sighing, the witch set the bread and flask beside him. “If you don’t want it,” she said with a touch of impatience, “at least find someone who does.”

Before he could answer, she walked away, disappearing into the crowd.

Toriyami stared after her, then at the simple meal she’d left behind. Suspicious but desperate, he opened the flask and sniffed the contents. “Tea?”

Warm, fragrant, and—when he tasted it—surprisingly strong. He drank deeply, letting the soothing bitterness wash over his tongue. Then he tore into the bread, eating quickly but saving half for later.

“I wonder… why would she do that?” he murmured.

The next morning, Toriyami returned to the streets with his precious half-loaf and empty flask. Luck had not favored him the day before. Maybe today would be different.

But what he found wasn’t coins or food.

It was two children, huddled behind a rubbish bin, shivering and wide-eyed. They clung onto each other, as if holding onto all they had left.

Toriyami’s stomach clenched—not from hunger this time, but from recognition.

He looked down at his bread. His safety net if he failed to find anything else today.

Then he sighed and approached the children. “Hey.” He knelt, holding out the bag. The little ones shrank back, confused by the sudden scary looking man who had approached them. “It’s not much,” he said gruffly. “But it’ll help. Go on. Take it.”

The older child snatched the bag and clutched it protectively.

“Look after yourselves,” Toriyami said softly, standing up.

“Thank you, mister,” the younger whispered, opening the bag and crying in delight.

Hearing the praise of those children, gave Toriyami a genuine smile for the first time in days.

“You really are a good man,” came a familiar voice.

He turned—and there she was again. The white-haired witch, smiling with quiet pride.

Toriyami flushed and held out the flask. “I believe this is yours.”

The witch took it, her smile never faltering as she spoke up again. “Say… want a job?”

“A—a job?”

“My name is Emery,” she said, curtsying with playful elegance. “I’m opening a tea shop in Thistlewick. Care to join me?”

The clucking of the shop’s chicken brought Toriyami out of his dream.

He sat up in bed, heart warm from the memory. On his nightstand sat a photo from the tea shop’s opening day—the day he found his purpose.

Hanaki’s voice echoed from the garden. “Toriyami! Help!”

Toriyami laughed, swinging his legs out of bed. “And so begins another day.”

A day he wouldn’t trade for anything.