Chapter 20:

Laid Bare

Neumendaci

Rain poured down the next day, and I stayed cooped up inside.

Though my resentment towards the Old Man lingered, I couldn’t stay angry at him forever. He had done too much for me.

I wouldn’t be exaggerating to say I was only alive because of him. He treated my wounds and fed me, after all.

I had to relearn how to accept the elderly man’s kindness, and by evening, I was already eating with him again.

He never once let his smile fade.

He showed so much compassion. I cannot imagine him doing nothing to help Yrish.

Did he know what was happening?

I really hoped he didn’t.

And if he did, there was likely something preventing him from helping.

I couldn’t reprimand him for not going to search for Yrish in the forest at his age. There wasn’t much he could do.

That’s what I want to believe.

However, the rest of the villagers were nothing more than larva-infested, rotting corpses.

Yrish’s parents were probably important figures in the village. If they really were the only ones capable of writing, then any communication to other cities must have gone through them.

People didn't want to earn their disapproval.

But so what!

That didn’t matter at all.

Just thinking of leaving someone to die for your own possible profit was disgusting.

How far had humanity fallen?

They were living like nothing happened. Like they simply forgot about her. Like she didn’t matter at all.

Nonetheless, I was no better.

If hypocrisy were poisonous, I would already be dead. It was despicable to condemn them when I was the one who let her die.

She died because of me.

I painfully chuckled.

This was why I didn’t want to stay inside.

I also didn’t believe I would help someone I didn’t know in my old world. At least not in the sense of paying enough attention to see something happen if I wasn’t directly involved.

Who am I to judge?

Would I have helped her if I were in their shoes?

When I woke up today, the Old Man hadn’t left yet.

I yawned, turning to the lit fireplace. He was in the middle of serving me a bowl of soup.

He gave me a warm smile when he noticed I was awake.

There was no bowl in front of him. Maybe he had already eaten, or perhaps he didn’t eat breakfast at all.

Instead of leaving, he sat down by the fire and waited for me to get up. He seemed to intend to stay with me for breakfast.

This was the first time this happened.

Was he skipping his work to stay with me?

I sat next to him and grabbed the bowl from the floor. I let the hot soup warm me from the inside.

The rain had stopped.

The windows were fogged up and webbed with trails of water, but the sun visibly peeked through the clouds, reflecting into the room.

I didn’t plan to stay inside today, but I refused to explore the village any further.

My leg had already received enough rest. I would be better off practising my spear skills.

The Old Man let out a strained huff as he reached towards the hearth, the floor beneath creaking under the pressure of his knees. He stifled the fire under a thick blanket of ash. The flames crackled, then died down, and the light dimmed.

He waited by the door, then gestured for me to follow.

I pointed to the bowl since he usually put it away, but he shook his head and repeated the gesture.

I pulled on my clothes and went in his direction.

The weather was strikingly similar to the last time I had left the house.

Several puddles still scattered the streets, and the same rhythmic ticking of dripping water reached my ears.

This time, the sky remained overcast, and the air felt chillier than usual. My breath steamed as it met the air.

I was grateful for this cloak.

The Old Man slowly walked in the market’s direction, and I trudged behind him.

It was a tough feeling to describe.

Despite being outside, I felt safe. His presence quieted every fearful thought.

How could such a small back become such a powerful emotional shield? A physical barrier capable of blocking the village’s cruel stare.

I was grateful.

We turned to the right at the market and headed up the hill. A slight breeze pushed against my back.

It had been a week since I met the Old Man, not counting the days I was asleep. A week since we met at the graveyard, and I was certain we were heading up there again.

We reached the stairs at the top. One step at a time, the Old Man went up, and I followed.

The cloudy scenery of the village to our right was appealing, but I refused to look at it. I didn’t want to see it again.

At the top, the Old Man looked at me with a smile before turning and beginning to walk away.

He seemed to be expecting me to go directly towards Yrish’s grave.

However, I wanted to pray for his family as well. I wanted to express my gratitude for everything he had done.

I grabbed his hand.

His brow furrowed slightly as he turned back to face me.

Grinning, I gestured towards his family’s resting place with a tilt of my head.

A saddened expression flickered across his face. He lowered his gaze and gently pulled my hand until we arrived at the grave.

We both knelt down before it.

For a moment, the Old Man looked like he might cry, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. I faced forward and closed my eyes.

I never knew what to think about in this kind of situation.

What should I be saying to the dead?

I have never been skilled at talking to others, and dead people were no exception.

I remained silent for a while, but nothing intriguing came to mind, so I simply told them what I felt.

“I’m not sure whether speaking in a different language from yours will work. I’m sorry for not knowing your language, so I’ll have to use mine.

“I don’t think people go anywhere once they die.

“There is no hell. There is no heaven. There is nothing beyond the grave you are in. There isn’t even a soul. The instant your consciousness is lost is the end of the road.

“Me talking to you right now is neither something good nor something bad. I just can’t imagine it will reach anyone at all.

“It must sound ridiculous, coming from someone who supposedly reincarnated, but I still don’t believe it is possible.”

I paused briefly.

“I’ve never had any friends. Back in my world, I often felt the urge to kill myself. Not just this year, but for over a decade.

“After being bullied at school for how I looked and acted, though my memories of that time are hazy, I shut myself in. I couldn’t bring myself to leave home. I was terrified of people’s words, their gazes, their everything.

“I still am. But I’m trying my best to overcome it.

“During those years, I was saved by manga and anime. My curiosity led me to discover Japanese culture, and thirteen-year-old me fell in love with it.

“I told myself I couldn’t stay in my shell forever. So I moved to Japan, completely alone. But even there I couldn't start anew. I wasn’t even able to work, simply living at my parents’ expense.

“My issues ran deep, and I never recovered from my suicidal thoughts and anxiety.

“After giving it some time, I was going to attempt to kill myself, but I was afraid. Everything I wanted to try fell through because I couldn’t bring myself to deliver the final blow.

“That’s when the accident happened.

“My emotions have been in constant turmoil since I came here. My anxiety was at an all-time high. It was a huge struggle to keep going, but I found an anchor. I found my strength in a little girl called Yrish.

“Although I was afraid of people, I felt at ease with her. Her presence was enough to soothe me. If I were ever to have a child, that’s what I imagined it would feel like. But I failed. I failed. I broke my promise to protect her.

“The world lost her angelic smile because of my weakness.

“It was at that moment that the Old Man came in. He treated me with care and helped me through it. I don’t know if he truly understands what he’s been doing for me this past week, but I would be lost without him.

“For that, I’m truly grateful.

“I don’t know what happened to his family. I don’t know why he can’t speak. I don’t know much about him, to be completely honest. I still resent him, even if that resentment may be misplaced. But I can’t deny what he has done for me and what he has probably done for his family.

“I’m sorry if my story wasn’t interesting. It was merely a rant about my life. I don’t believe anyone heard me either way, but no matter who you are, I hope you can feel the love the Old Man gives you and know that he still cherishes you very much.

“This is the end of this excruciatingly long monologue. Thank you for being here.”

When I opened my eyes, a single tear ran down my cheeks.

I glanced to my right. The Old Man smiled widely as he looked at me.

I wiped the tear off my face, and we both got up. He took my hand once again and led me up the steps towards Yrish’s grave.

The dirt around her grave was very damp. The pleasant smell of freshly watered grass intertwined with my sadness.

We both knelt down once more.

I had nothing more to say to Yrish.

I had failed her in every way.

No words would amend the broken trust she had put in me.

Even after finding her parents again, all I could do was curse them. I cursed the villagers. I cursed life itself.

There was nothing more I could do for her, and I apologised.

That was all I could say.