Joy in the Mundane

Two days went by, and the girl seemed to be smiling more often. She looked more comfortable around me than she did before, but communication was still difficult.

Despite her reserved demeanour, opting to remain silent most of the time, she gladly assisted me with many of our daily tasks.

I could also tell she was quite pleased with the haircut I gave her, constantly touching her now-short hair and rolling it around her finger.

Her cheeks now held a faint blush, some colour returning, but her body remained disturbingly thin.

Food was scarce, and I now had two mouths to feed. I would sometimes skip meals so that I could give the few berries we found all to her. But it was definitely worth it, watching her puffed rosy cheeks as she smiled and devoured them.

Her survival knowledge wasn’t negligible at all. She taught me about some edible mushrooms, such as the dark-brown bulges I discovered at the base of some trees early on and other fungal species growing in shaded areas.

She knelt down beside some mushrooms, carefully poking a cap with her finger before plucking one and holding it up to me. A look of excitement swept across her face.

“Kojit!” she exclaimed, tapping the mushroom lightly on my arm.

“Mushrooms?” I asked, smiling as I looked at her.

“Mashums?” she repeated, confused.

“Yes… Mu-sh-roo-ms,” I replied, slowly spacing the sounds.

She stared at the mushrooms for a moment, then smirked and insisted, “Kojit!”

From then on, every mushroom we found earned the same grin and repeated “kojit”, as if she didn’t want me to forget.

However, there were some mushrooms she wanted to harvest but was strongly averse to eating, wanting me to stash them inside my backpack.

It seemed like something she felt the need to do. I complied, coming to the conclusion it could be connected to the reason I found her alone in the forest.

Unable to ask her where she lived, we kept going upstream, stopping each day in a different place to rest, just as I had been doing until now.

She wasn't completely dehydrated the first time we met. I would guess she knew about the creek and had been staying close by, though she had likely lost track of where she came from.

Since I didn’t come across any village, it should be further upstream. It was the best lead I had until now. She also didn’t seem to mind going in this direction.

I woke up with her still sleeping by my side. This had become the norm, as I always gave her the shaded place to sleep so the sunlight wouldn’t wake her.

It hadn’t rained in days. The soothing splashes were no longer my morning wake-up call. Instead, the sun took its shift, as if rising from the pits of hell to haul my half-scorched body through the sweltering morning trenches.

The orchestra was left with only its wind instruments, but their melodies still echoed with astounding beauty through the trees. Like a trumpet and euphonium duetting in what felt like a solo, filling my void with a serene tune unrivalled by any.

As I did every day, I rekindled the campfire and meditated as I waited for her to wake up.

Anxiety was very much still part of my daily life, especially with the food shortage, but these moments kept me grounded, preventing me from reaching insanity. It might sound like an exaggeration, and maybe it was, but the tranquillity was genuine.

The feeling of being in control of myself and, increasingly, over mana as well was strikingly different from when I first arrived in this world.

I opened my eyes. This time, instead of waiting behind me like she usually did, she was sitting beside me.

Her eyes were closed, and her brow furrowed in concentration. Her legs were crossed, matching mine. Her hands fluttered uncertainly before settling, palms facing downwards, on her knees.

It seemed like she was also trying to meditate.

I grinned, prompting me to exhale through my nose. She peeked at me out of the corner of her eye. A mischievous smile slipped out, breaking her serious expression.

Our time together looked bleak as problems kept popping up. I didn’t see myself as capable of fully protecting her, but moments like these brought a sliver of faith to my heart.

“You did well!” I praised her with a smile and patted her on the head.

She returned a smile from ear to ear, tilting her head in my direction. She fully opened her eyes and faced me.

“U di ue,” she mumbled and giggled as she attempted to repeat what I said.

“Close!” I declared, surprised. “But when you say it,” I remarked, while pointing to her, “it’s ‘I did well!’”

She repeated it over and over again, now trying to say, “I did well!” but occasionally switching them up and using “you”. She stumbled over her words several times, and we both giggled when she mixed them up.

After many minutes, her pronunciation wobbled, but she finally got it right.

“I did well!” she exclaimed with a contagious smile.

She didn't understand what it meant but appeared delighted at finally being able to say it. While I roasted some of the mushrooms we picked up, she continued repeating it.

I handed her the food, eating some myself, and grabbed berries I had saved up, sharing them between the two of us. Her eyes closed as she savoured the sweetness. Finally, I stood up and packed everything.

I pointed at the fire, as if asking her to extinguish it. She performed the same ritual as before and used the earth spell, which I couldn’t even come close to learning right now if I tried.

I began heading towards the brook, gesturing for her to follow me.

When passing through a flatter piece of land while walking, I generally closed my eyes. I ignored everything around me and felt the chill breeze brush against my goosebumped skin.

The cool sensation I felt made the unbearably hot sun seem more refreshing. The soft rustles of the greenery gave me tingles. I could lose myself in this peace forever.

“Ato dra jalhere~?” she asked softly, hesitation colouring her voice.

I opened my eyes, startled, and looked at her. I was suddenly pulled back to reality. It was the first time she tried to ask me anything.

“Sorry, I don’t understand,” I replied, unsure of what to say.

“Sorai~?” she questioned.

I shook my head as if trying to say yes. She seemed to be repeating the beginning of my sentence, so I instinctively agreed.

A smile popped on her face.

“Ar kra jalhere~ Yrish!” she happily asserted in a soft voice.

She spun around mid-skip. Her arms swung freely as she twirled, flailing in the air. She kept whispering, “Sorai~,” with a blissful smile. I didn’t understand why, but she seemed content.

She continued saying it throughout the day, mostly using it while looking at me. Only later did I realise she had given me a name, “Sorai~”. She had mistaken my reply for my name, since I hadn’t understood her question.

Following that same train of thought, I made the connection with what she said afterwards and started calling her “Yrish”.

Her joy was palpable as she clasped her hands to her chest and nodded furiously. She looked ecstatic to hear me saying it.

It felt odd, being given a name from her, but seeing her joy made me happy.

Even in a survival situation, she still found a way to find joy in the mundane.

Nevertheless, I also felt extremely dumb for not remembering to ask for her name earlier. Not that I could figure out how to do it.

Days continued to go by, but our daily lives stayed the same, steadily heading east.

Night had already fallen. After eating most of the mushrooms we found, saving the berries for tomorrow’s breakfast, I sat beside the campfire. I absorbed the heat from the fire in a state of semi-meditation, eyes closed but still aware of my surroundings.

Although I had no new information to write about, I had my notebook open, flipping through the pages back and forth. Stopping to add one more day to the counter at the end, I went back to turning pages slowly and attentively listened to the sounds the rough paper made on contact with my fingers.

Yrish was usually already asleep at this hour. I suspected today would be no different since I had already put her to sleep some minutes ago. Or so I thought.

While I was distracted with the journal, she quietly woke and spotted me by the campfire. Creeping up, she let out a soft yawn and tugged on my sleeve. I turned around and stumbled across her curious face, eyeing my sketches.

I remembered she hadn’t seen my notebook yet. She was usually already napping when I decided to write.

I lent the notebook to her. I hadn’t written much, leaving her with little to see, but her eyes widened, and she gasped in excitement. It looked like she enjoyed the drawings I made.

She tried drawing on it with her fingers and nails but only left barely perceptible small dents on the paper. I gave her one of my pencils and turned the book to the first page, where she could learn how to use it.

She didn’t grip the pencil the way I expected. Not in a fist, but with the back pressed against her palm and all fingers wrapped around the shaft. It looked more like a strange paintbrush than a pencil, yet she moved with practised familiarity.

A tiny growl of frustration escaped her when the pencil didn't move the way she wanted.

The lines weren’t random. Many resembled Latin letters or other familiar symbols. I could only assume she knew how to write, but the utensil wasn’t the one she was accustomed to.

I slid closer and flipped to the last page I had written on. Pointing to her name, “Yrish”, I said it aloud. Her face lit up, and her head swayed with delight.

Her joy only grew as she focused on the word.

After a few seconds of studying it, she attempted to write it herself underneath. Surprisingly, it didn’t come out too terribly, and she looked proud of the outcome.

“You did well!” I told her softly, putting my hand on her head and smiling gently.

“I did… well!” she replied sweetly, then started chuckling.

She pointed to the blank space on the page and asked, “Ar gokare~ sufir to Sorai~?” darting from my face to the notebook.

Assuming she was just asking for permission to write there, I nodded.

Shaky at first, she began writing what looked like sentences with some of the same symbols from the first page. Those were definitely letters from a writing system I wasn’t familiar with, though some shapes resembled alphabets I had seen.

When she finally finished, she looked up at me, her eyes glinting and a lovely smile spread across her face.

She lowered her face, taking one last look at what she wrote. She let out a small giggle before closing the notebook. She was blushing.

Grabbing the book and the pencil with one hand, she tapped them lightly against my arm, handing them back to me. She turned away and ran towards the resting area.

Getting up, I shortly followed. She was already lying down, facing away from me. She let out a faint chuckle, her body slightly fidgety.

I smiled, and it felt as if my whole body joined in. Warmth spread through me.

Lying down next to her, I hummed a gentle melody, lulling her to sleep.

Then, I decided to take a final peek at what she wrote.

There were two sentences written. The characters were odd, but she seemed to be able to write what she wanted. The strokes looked a bit awkward and wobbly, but it was to be expected.

I couldn’t decipher the sentences, and from her blush, I suspected she didn’t want me to. I would have to figure it out once I started learning her language.

I put everything back in the bag, then sluggishly doused the fire. Mentally drained, I returned and dozed off beside her.

[See the Showcase Section for the protagonist’s Notebook page from this chapter]