Chapter 19

The next morning came quietly.

No birdsong.

No warmth.

Just a pale sky and a cold breeze brushing past him.

Tadashi stood, stretching slowly, feeling the stiffness in his back and the dull ache in his leg. The boar had caught him harder than he realized. But he could walk. That was enough.

He took one last look at the ashes from last night’s fire.

“Let’s keep going,” he murmured.

He didn’t speak to fill the silence.

He spoke to remind himself that he was still here.

Day Two

The forest welcomed him with problems almost immediately.

Thorns.

Uneven ground.

Steep slopes hidden by dead leaves.

And the constant feeling that something was watching him.

But Tadashi stayed alert.

Goro taught him that even being calm could be a survival skill. So Tadashi breathed slowly, walked carefully, and kept his head up instead of staring at the ground.

Around midday, he spotted movement in the bushes.

A fox.

Smaller than a wolf, but fast.

It stared at him, eyes sharp and wary.

Tadashi froze — not out of fear, but out of respect. The fox wasn’t hunting him. It was just passing by. After a long moment, it vanished into the shadows.

Tadashi whispered, “Wish the wolves were more like you,” and kept walking.

He found edible berries by evening, carefully testing them the way Goro described. His stomach didn’t twist, so he ate a few slowly. They tasted sour but not awful.

For shelter, he found a hollow space between two fallen logs. It wasn’t comfortable, but it blocked the wind. He gathered twigs and worked on another fire.

He struggled more this time — the humidity made the twigs damp. His hands hurt. His patience almost snapped.

But then he heard Goro’s voice in his head:

“Fire don’t rush for anyone. Be patient. Try again. Slow.”

He finally got the spark.

The flames rose.

Tadashi let out a tired laugh.

“You’d be proud, old man.”

He slept with fewer nightmares that night.

Day Three

The sun stayed hidden behind clouds. The forest felt heavier, thicker, almost suffocating. Tadashi stayed close to the bigger trees where visibility was better.

Around noon, he found running water — a stream that wound through the roots and rocks. He crouched and touched the surface.

Cold.

Clean.

Flowing.

He drank slowly, letting the water clear the dryness in his throat.

This was the first real relief he’d felt since everything went wrong.

When he stood up, he noticed tracks nearby — deer tracks. It was the first time he realized he might not be the only living creature trying to survive.

He followed their trail a short distance before deciding it wasn’t smart to go too deep. Goro would’ve hit him with a stick for that.

He headed back and spent the evening building a simple spear from a sturdy branch and a sharpened rock.

Not to hunt — he wasn’t ready for that.

Just to defend himself.

By nightfall, he’d finished it.

The spear was rough, unbalanced, and ugly…

But it was his.

He whispered, “Not bad, Tadashi,” with a tired grin and let himself feel that small win.

Small wins mattered.

Day Four

The day started well, but the forest wasn’t planning on letting him pass easily.

Tadashi heard the growl before he saw the danger.

A mountain cat — small, lean, but deadly if he wasn’t careful.

It stalked him low to the ground, tail twitching.

Tadashi held his spear out.

Not aggressively — just ready.

The cat hissed.

Tadashi backed away, slow and steady, as Goro taught him.

Predators don’t waste energy for no reason.

They look for fear.

Weakness.

Panicked movement.

So Tadashi didn’t run.

He kept eye contact, breathing steady, holding his stance.

After what felt like forever, the cat flicked its ear, hissed, and backed off. Then it vanished.

Tadashi’s legs nearly gave out afterward — not from exhaustion, but from the adrenaline leaving him all at once.

He fell to his knees, gasping.

“Goro… I hope you’re watching, because I almost passed out trying to look brave.”

But he survived.

Again.

That night, he slept lighter, but he slept.

Day Five

It rained.

A cold, endless rain that soaked everything, even under the trees. Tadashi’s clothes clung to him, freezing his skin. He built a shelter from branches and leaves, but it barely helped.

He shivered all morning.

But he kept moving.

He found mushrooms under an old stump — and ignored them. Goro’s warning rang in his head:

“Animals can eat all kinds of things that’ll kill you. Don’t copy ‘em.”

He settled for berries again.

His fire wouldn’t start in the rain, no matter how hard he tried. Eventually, he gave up and curled under his makeshift shelter, hugging himself to stay warm.

For the first time since Goro died, Tadashi felt the edges of loneliness creep in again.

Rain hit the ground in a steady rhythm. He hugged his knees and whispered:

“I miss them… I miss all of them…”

His voice shook, but didn’t break.

He wiped his face and whispered:

“But I’m not stopping.”

The rain answered with a new wave of cold wind.

Still, Tadashi held on.

Day Six — Resolve

The morning after the storm was quiet. Mist rolled between the trees. Tadashi’s breath came out in small white clouds.

He felt tired — but he also felt… stronger.

Not physically, necessarily.

Just more aware.

More stable.

More focused.

He walked carefully, spear in hand, avoiding the slippery roots. He found the stream again and washed his face, letting the cold water wake him fully.

And as he looked at his reflection, wind blowing through his messy black hair, he whispered:

“I’m almost there.”

His reflection stared back at him — not confident, not fearless, but determined.

He could work with that.