The Truth of All Things

As the winter ended and spring began, the days reverted back to how they were previously, albeit with one unfortunate exception.

The fisherman, who had once visited daily, now ceased to appear entirely. On the first full day after the snow melted, I noticed that he did not show up. I assumed that he simply might have forgotten to visit. But as the days went by, it became increasingly clear to me that he did not survive the winter. I had a feeling this would be the case, but it was still saddening nonetheless. I hoped that his spirit was at peace, wherever it was. And in his absence, the one human connection that I had in this world, however tenuous and indirect it had been, vanished. Even though I was no longer isolated underneath the snow, I was still utterly alone.

And that's how it was for a few weeks. There wasn’t anything I could do to entertain myself either, aside from watching the grass grow. However, that growth was strange, to say the least. For instance, there was a blade of grass that stood completely upright, as if it were reaching upwards. And there was another that was growing downward, as if it sought the comfort of the dirt. There were even two grasses growing toward each other. But I had a guess as to why this was occurring, and it wouldn’t be very long before I had some answers.

It was during the morning of a bright and sunny day when I heard a feminine humming behind me. I looked back towards the grasses, and as the humming grew louder, those grasses began to rustle, and eventually, a woman stepped out from the brush. She was dressed like some sort of peasant, wearing a long dress and a strange piece of headwear covering her hair. She looked to be in her mid-twenties. The peasant walked towards the water's edge and stood, seemingly in awe of what was in front of her. I had already gotten used to this place long ago, but it was intriguing to see how it was perceived by fresher eyes.

But my curiosity quickly turned to horror as the peasant bent down and picked up a pebble not too far away from me. She stood back up and stuck out her right hand, which was holding the pebble. Then she flicked her arm, releasing it. As the pebble skimmed the water’s surface, it splashed mightily. It continued to move across the water, splashing again as it made contact with the water’s surface. It then moved a little further, and after making one last splash, it sank into the depths below. The peasant just giggled.

I watched in terror. After spending all those months underneath the snow, I had zero desire to be trapped under the water, especially for what could very well be indefinitely. But I couldn’t move, speak, or do anything, for that matter, to defend myself. All I could do was watch and wait things out. The peasant bent down again, picking up another pebble. She got up, stuck out her right hand, and tossed the pebble. It skimmed the water three times before sinking underneath. The peasant started to look around before reaching again in my direction. I looked away, fearing the worst. Each second was excruciating, and I could only beg for this to be over soon. But then, from behind where I was looking, I could hear more splashes. I looked towards the lake and saw some drops entering the water, the aftermath of another pebble being tossed in.

I glanced to my right, looking at the peasant again. As she bent down, I froze in fright. But then she sat down and just stared toward the lake. I sighed in relief, convinced I was safe, at least for the time being. Unfortunately, those hopes were swiftly dashed as the peasant picked up another pebble. But then, to my surprise, she spoke—the first time that I heard anyone speak since I arrived in this world. “I haven’t gotten a chance to do this since I got here,” she said as she threw the pebble into the lake, this one splashing loudly before sinking into the water.

Something about that sentence immediately felt off to me. What was she referring to by 'here?' She could’ve just been referring to arriving at the water’s edge. But why would she say that when she threw those pebbles in the water as soon as she arrived? No, she must have been referring to arriving...from somewhere else. I thought back to the past year—of that fish frantically climbing out of the water, of the grass growing in strange directions, of the countless things that appeared out of thin air, and even of my own status as a rock. Thinking again about what she just said, there could only be one possible conclusion: This peasant... must be from Earth! Just like me. It wasn’t just her, either, from what I had previously witnessed. And this realization—that perhaps I wasn't alone in all of this—felt incredibly cathartic.

And as I looked toward her face, I saw her previous carefree expression give way to one of stress and worry. She covered her mouth and stood up. I could see her eyes darting back and forth. Perhaps there was a chance she heard me? “Phew! No one heard me,” the peasant said, letting out a giggle. She didn’t hear me—of course she didn’t hear me.

The peasant looked out towards the water again, her eyes seeming to sparkle, with a tranquil smile on her face. It was as if all the innocent souls she had just condemned to an eternity in the darkest depths of the lake meant absolutely nothing to her. And for some reason, I began to feel enraged. How could someone show such disregard for the lives of innocents? How could she feel so happy after the suffering she just inflicted!

Ok. Calm down, Kazuki; calm down, I told myself. Maybe she didn’t know. After all, I wasn't told anything before I was turned into a rock. Maybe the woman didn’t say anything to this peasant either. So then why did she seem so anxious after that sentence, as if she felt a need to keep a secret? Did that woman say something to her—something she didn’t bother to tell me?

But my thoughts were interrupted by the sound of more splashing as the peasant tossed yet another pebble into the water. I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself. At this point, it had to be a habit for her, I thought. Then the peasant turned around, brushed off her dress, and started to hum. She walked towards the grass and back the way she came. But as she was leaving, I heard her say, “I should come here again sometime,” much to my chagrin.

After she left, I looked towards the landscape around me, at the trees in front of me, at the grasses behind me, as well as the other rocks beside me. You are all just like me, I thought to myself. The thought that I wasn’t alone—that there were others stuck in the same situation as me—felt like a relief. But at the same time...

I looked towards the lake, the waters rippling in a uniform fashion, as if all that had happened today had never occurred and was to be forgotten forever. But as I stared at the water, I could only feel regret—regret that I couldn't do anything to help them.