Chapter Text
birdsong woke mafuyu.
at first, it was just a faint noise, quiet and far away, hidden behind a sleepy fog. but as she listened, the different sounds started to stand out, one by one, until she could pick out lots of unique calls filling the air. close by, leaves whispered softly in the wind. a warm sunbeam lay on her face, broken up every now and then by moving shadows above. she stayed still for a bit, letting the sounds soak in, before slowly opening her eyes to see what was around her. the world was waking up, and she was waking up with it.
an endless blue sky greeted her.
the sky was filled with big, fluffy clouds that didn't seem to be in a hurry to get anywhere. they just hung there, hardly moving at all. some trees were swaying gently in the breeze, and their leaves were making the sunlight look all patchy and golden on the ground. she closed her eyes for a second, then opened them again, trying to figure out where she was and what was going on. the leaves were still rustling and the clouds were still just floating there, looking all peaceful and stuff. she blinked again, feeling a bit dizzy and disoriented. everything seemed really calm and quiet, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.
grass.
she was lying in a field.
as she slowly sat up, the soft grass beneath her brushed against her skirt. the tiny white flowers that covered the hillside swayed gently in the breeze, like they were dancing to a quiet melody. in front of her, a dense forest of cedar trees towered above, their trunks rising high into the air before vanishing into the leafy canopy. the air was crisp and clean, filled with the sweet scent of damp earth and the fresh smell of pine. she thought she could hear the sound of running water somewhere far away, its gentle gurgling a soothing background noise. the forest seemed to stretch on forever, a vast and peaceful world that was both calming and intimidating at the same time.
it was beautiful.
she had absolutely no idea where she was.
a small crease formed between her eyebrows. she searched her mind for... anything. a memory of how she'd gotten here. a familiar landmark. a name. a face.
nothing answered.
there wasn't a wall preventing her from remembering, nor a hazy recollection waiting just out of reach. it felt stranger than that. it was as though the questions themselves had nowhere to go. she knew she should have memories, knew there ought to be something waiting for her if she searched hard enough, but every attempt simply dissolved into emptiness before it could begin.
who am i?
silence.
where did i come from?
nothing.
even her own name escaped her.
she looked down at her hands, slowly turning them over. they were slender and her skin was pale. there was a small scar near the bottom of her left thumb. she touched it gently with her finger, hoping it might help her remember something.
it didn't.
she stretched out her fingers, and they moved easily, just like they were supposed to. she knew how to do everything - walk, run, talk. she even knew what the trees and birds around her were called. it was like all these little things she knew were still right there, waiting to be used.
just... nothing about herself.
oddly enough, she didn't panic.
she woke up in a strange place, with no memory of who she was. it was a scary thought, but she didn't feel afraid. instead, she felt like something was missing, like a part of her story had been taken away without her noticing. it was as if someone had removed a important page from a book, leaving a gap that she couldn't quite fill. everything around her seemed unfamiliar, yet somehow she felt a sense of calm, like she was just waiting for something to come back to her. but what? she tried to remember, but her mind was a complete blank. all she knew was that she felt incomplete, like a puzzle with a missing piece. and she had no idea where to start looking for it.
the wind started blowing again, moving pieces of her hair around her face.
she stood.
remaining here wouldn't accomplish anything.
a narrow dirt path wound through the tall grass before disappearing into the forest. it looked well-traveled enough, the earth packed firmly beneath countless footsteps. without any better ideas, mafuyu brushed the grass from her skirt and began following it.
the forest swallowed her almost immediately.
towering cedar trees rose on either side of the path, their branches intertwining high above to form a canopy that scattered the morning sunlight into thin shafts of gold. moss clung to exposed roots, and ferns crowded the undergrowth wherever enough light managed to reach the forest floor. every now and then, a butterfly drifted lazily across the path before disappearing into the greenery.
it was quiet.
it wasn't completely silent - birds were chirping to each other from up high, insects were humming under the bushes, and leaves were softly rustling whenever the wind blew by. but it was still really peaceful. the kind of quiet that makes you want to think deeply.
not that mafuyu had much to think about.
she tried to remember things, but they weren't really there. sometimes, she'd get a feeling that was almost like a memory. it was weird, like when the sun shone through the trees in a certain way, it felt kind of familiar. she also had this strange feeling that she'd walked in forests before, but she couldn't actually remember when or where. the more she tried to hold onto these feelings, the more they seemed to slip away from her. it was like trying to catch something in her hand, but it kept disappearing. she couldn't quite picture anything, just a vague sense of something that might have happened. and the harder she tried to think about it, the more it seemed to fade away.
eventually, another scent joined the smell of cedar.
woodsmoke.
then something warmer.
rice.
she slowed her pace.
the sounds reached her next.
children laughing.
someone calling out across a distance.
the rhythmic clack of wood striking wood.
the trees thinned out, and the land started to slope downward, revealing a tiny village tucked away in the mountains.
the village was small, with only about thirty or forty houses. they were all clustered together, surrounded by a few narrow dirt roads. the houses were made of dark wood and had roofs with tiles that were curved and worn from age. almost every yard had a small garden where people grew their own vegetables. you could see thin streams of smoke rising up from some of the chimneys, carrying the smell of cooking fires into the air. just beyond the village, a river sparkled in the morning sunlight before it disappeared around a bend in the mountains. the whole scene was peaceful, like a painting. the houses, the gardens, and the river all seemed to fit together perfectly, like they had been there for a long time. the smoke from the chimneys and the sound of the river flowing along added to the sense of calm, making the village feel like a serene and secluded place.
mafuyu just stood there, taking a moment to absorb everything around her.
the village looked... peaceful.
lived in.
the kind of place where everyone knew everyone else.
a strange tightness settled in her chest.
she couldn't explain why.
perhaps because it looked so complete.
everyone down there belonged somewhere.
but... she didn't.
after another moment's hesitation, she descended the hill.
as soon as she set foot on the main road, an older woman, who was carrying a handmade basket, caught sight of her.
the woman came to a sudden stop and cocked her head to one side, her eyes fixed on something that had clearly caught her attention.
"i don't believe we've met before."
mafuyu instinctively straightened her posture.
"...i'm sorry."
she said sorry before she even had a chance to think about what she was doing.
for just a second, she frowned.
why had she apologized?
the old woman didn't seem bothered.
she smiled, and her eyes sparkled with warmth, the corners crinkling gently upwards.
"there's nothing to apologize for, dear."
her eyes wandered to the trees behind mafuyu, then came back to focus on her face.
"did you get lost?"
lost.
that... seemed close enough.
"...maybe."
the woman waited patiently.
mafuyu lowered her eyes.
"...i don't really remember."
"..."
"i woke up in the forest."
"..."
"i don't remember... anything before that."
the woman's expression softened immediately.
"oh, you poor thing."
that was all she said.
she shifted the basket on her hip and then smiled again.
"let's not waste any more time standing around, shall we? why don't we head into the village and discuss our next steps together - it's always better to figure things out as a team, don't you think?"
mafuyu blinked.
"...you're helping me?"
the question seemed to surprise the woman.
"of course."
as though there had never been another option.
mafuyu looked at her for a bit longer, then barely nodded.
"...thank you."
together, they began walking deeper into the village.
as people walked by, they would sometimes look over, then go back to what they were doing. a mom was hanging up clothes to dry outside her house, talking to her neighbor at the same time. some kids were running around the square, playing with sticks and pretending they were swords. an older guy was sitting under a tree, carving something out of wood with hands that seemed to know just what to do.
nothing changed after mafuyu showed up, and everything went on just like it always had.
no one stopped to ask who she was.
no one seemed particularly alarmed by the unfamiliar girl walking through their village.
some smiled politely.
others simply nodded.
for reasons she couldn't quite explain, that unsettled her more than suspicion would have.
nobody questioned why she was there.
as they strolled through the village, the elderly woman guided mafuyu along at a leisurely pace, every so often raising her hand to greet the people they encountered. many of them addressed her by name, yet mafuyu couldn't help but observe that she never actually bothered to introduce herself. she would just exchange a few kind words with the villagers before moving on, seeming entirely untroubled by the notion of reaching their destination anytime soon. the warm and gentle way she interacted with the people they met made mafuyu feel like they were all just out for a casual walk, with no particular place to be.
the woman finally spoke up, shifting the basket on her hip, and asked, "so, is there really nothing at all that you can remember?"
mafuyu searched herself again. the answer hadn't changed.
"...no."
"not even your name?"
she shook her head.
"hm."
the woman's eyes sparkled with curiosity as she hummed to herself, her brow furrowed in thought, like she was working to unravel a fascinating enigma, rather than being weighed down by worry.
"we'll just take it one step at a time and figure it out as we go, i guess."
one step at a time.
the words were strangely comforting.
as they made their way through the village, they came across a small wooden bridge that stretched over a gentle stream. the water was crystal clear, and mafuyu could see all the way to the bottom, where smooth stones lined the stream bed and tiny fish swam about, darting back and forth whenever someone walked by overhead. a short distance downstream, two kids were crouched down by the water's edge, trying their best to catch some fish with their bare hands, but they weren't having much luck. the sunlight filtered down through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the water, and the sound of gentle lapping of the stream against the shore created a soothing melody.
one of them looked up.
"miss!"
the boy's eyes lit up as he waved excitedly at the elderly woman, but his gaze soon shifted to the person standing right next to her - mafuyu.
"...who's that?"
the old woman's face broke into a warm smile as she said, "ah, a traveler, maybe?"
mafuyu glanced toward her.
traveler.
it wasn't true.
but it wasn't exactly false, either.
the boy accepted the answer without question.
"cool!"
he went back to playing in the water, like he had already forgotten about the mystery.
mafuyu found herself watching him for a moment longer than necessary.
everyone here accepted things so... easily.
as she stepped into the village, she noticed a few locals busy setting up their wooden stalls under vibrant canopies. the stalls were filled with an array of fresh vegetables, neatly arranged in rows, while baskets were overflowing with apples and pears. someone was carefully hanging bundles of dried herbs from the edge of a roof, adding to the already enticing aromas that filled the air. the smell of freshly steamed rice wafted through the village, blending with the other scents to create a warm and welcoming atmosphere that seemed almost too good to be true. the villagers were preparing for a bustling day, and the air was alive with the promise of a vibrant market.
her stomach chose that exact moment to growl.
she instinctively placed a hand over it.
the old woman chuckled.
"well, at least we know one thing."
mafuyu tilted her head.
"you're hungry."
"...apparently."
it was one of those things that you couldn't help but notice, and yet, saying it out loud seemed kinda pointless.
she dug into her basket and pulled out a little bundle wrapped in cloth.
"i was planning to take these all the way home, but i guess having just one won't make a difference."
there was a simple rice ball, wrapped up in a piece of seaweed, sitting inside.
she held it out.
"for you."
mafuyu hesitated.
"...i don't have any money."
"i wasn't asking for any."
"..."
"..."
"...why?"
the question escaped before she could stop it.
the old woman blinked.
"because you're hungry."
"as simple as that?"
"shouldn't it be?"
mafuyu didn't know how to answer.
she slowly reached out and took the rice ball, cradling it gently in both hands.
"...thank you."
it was still faintly warm.
she took a cautious bite.
plain rice.
a hint of salt.
nothing more.
it was delicious.
not because of the taste, necessarily, but because she hadn't realized until that first bite just how empty she had been. her shoulders relaxed almost involuntarily as warmth settled in her stomach.
the old woman watched with a satisfied smile.
"there we are."
they resumed walking.
mafuyu quietly finished eating the rice ball, then carefully folded up the cloth it had been wrapped in and handed it back, still not saying a word.
"thank you."
"my pleasure."
for a while, neither of them spoke.
the village seemed content to fill the silence itself.
in a nearby yard, the sound of a blacksmith's hammer echoed through the air, its steady beat a familiar rhythm. meanwhile, chickens roamed freely, pecking at the ground, until a little girl, with a grin on her face, scooped one up in her arms, and carried it off, her giggles filling the air. above, laundry hung from clotheslines, stretched between the houses, and whenever the breeze picked up, the scent of fresh soap wafted down, carrying with it the simple joys of everyday life. as the wind shifted, the clothes danced gently, their soft flapping a soothing accompaniment to the blacksmith's hammer, creating a sense of peacefulness that settled over the entire scene.
everything felt...
gentle.
a word had suddenly popped into mafuyu's mind, and it was as if it had appeared out of nowhere, uninvited.
nothing demanded anything from her.
nobody expected her to be someone she couldn't remember becoming.
nobody looked at her with disappointment.
it hit her out of nowhere, and for a moment, she felt like she was going to lose her balance.
disappointment.
why that word?
she stopped walking.
the old woman turned.
"dear?"
"...nothing."
she wasn't sure if that was true.
the word stayed with her, echoing in her mind as they continued on their way.
disappointment.
it carried weight.
a heaviness that felt familiar despite having no memory attached to it.
as she tried to make sense of the feeling, the elderly woman came to a halt in front of a simple, wooden house that stood near the heart of the village.
"this is our meeting place," she said, "where we all come together to discuss things that affect us all."
the house wasn't really special, but it was a bit bigger than the ones around it. it had a big porch that went all the way around the front, and the roof stuck out so far that it kept the porch cool in the summer and dry in the rain.
two men sat on the porch playing shogi.
one looked up as they approached.
"oh? someone new?"
the old woman nodded.
"poor thing woke up in the forest without any memories."
"i see..."
he took a brief look at mafuyu, and then a warm smile spread across his face.
"well, welcome."
that was all.
just...
welcome.
no suspicion.
no interrogation.
as though people without memories wandered into the village every other week.
mafuyu found herself unable to understand it.
why was everyone so willing to accept her?
the old woman seemed to notice her confusion.
"we don't often have strangers come by," she whispered, her voice barely audible as they continued on their way. "it's just too serene here, i suppose, for most people who are always on the move."
"...then why is no one questioning me?"
she had finally asked.
the woman considered the question for a few moments.
"should we?"
"i don't know."
"i don't either."
she smiled.
"but you're here now."
"as long as you're kind, i don't think anyone will mind."
kind.
another strangely heavy word.
as mafuyu was about to ask for clarification, a soft and soothing tune floated through the air, filling the late afternoon with its gentle sound.
piano.
she instinctively turned toward the sound.
it was soft.
simple.
only a handful of notes repeated over and over again, yet each one lingered in the air just long enough to draw the next along behind it.
the melody wasn't perfect.
one note came slightly too early.
another lingered a touch too long.
yet somehow...
it felt beautiful precisely because of those imperfections.
"...who's playing?"
the old woman's smile widened.
"i was wondering when you'd notice."
she pointed farther down the road.
that small cottage on the outskirts of town.
as mafuyu followed the direction of her finger, she caught sight of a tiny house nestled beside a soft hill that looked out over the valley. the fence around it was surrounded by a colorful mix of wildflowers, and some climbing vines had already started to make their way up one side of the old wooden walls. through an open window, the sweet sound of an old piano melody floated out, gently carried by the breeze that came down from the mountains. it was a peaceful scene, like something out of a dream. the music seemed to match the rhythm of the wind, creating a sense of calm and serenity that filled the air. mafuyu felt drawn to the little house, as if the beautiful melody was beckoning her closer.
the woman went on to say, "she's been living here for a few years now, and from what i've seen, she likes to keep a pretty low profile, doesn't really mix with the others much."
the melody paused.
then began again from the beginning.
"very sweet girl."
mafuyu stood there, completely caught up in the sound, and she didn't move until the very last note had disappeared into the air.
for reasons she couldn't explain...
it felt lonely.
the elderly woman stood there for a moment, her eyes fixed on the small house, before finally turning to face mafuyu.
"let's go and find out what everyone else has to say," she said softly.
mafuyu followed her to the meeting house.
the big wooden doors were wide open, and the breeze from outside was blowing gently through the room. sunlight was shining down on the floor, making it look all warm and cozy. the room was pretty simple, with just a low table and some cushions around it. there were shelves on one wall, filled with all sorts of things like books, maps, and papers. everything smelled nice and woody, like cedar. it was a really peaceful place to be. the maps on the shelves were all yellow and old, and the books looked like they had been there for a long time. the ledgers were stacked up neatly, and the cushions were soft and inviting. overall, the room felt like a calm and quiet spot, perfect for relaxing or reading a book.
the two men playing shogi looked up as they entered.
"so," one of them said, setting a carved piece back onto the board, "this is the traveler?"
the old woman nodded.
"a poor girl with no memories."
"no memories..."
the second man frowned thoughtfully rather than suspiciously.
"that must be frightening."
mafuyu opened her mouth.
"...it should be."
the room fell quiet.
she hadn't intended to answer like that.
"it should?" the first man repeated.
"i think so."
she lowered her gaze.
"but... it isn't."
she couldn't explain it.
she felt a hollow sensation within, a space where fear should have been, but it was eerily absent. it was as if she had a deep understanding of herself and others, enough to know that finding herself in a strange place with no memory of her own name should have been petrifying. yet, the fear that normally would have gripped her was strangely missing, leaving only an unsettling emptiness.
instead, all she felt was...
nothing.
the first man scratched his chin.
"strange."
"perhaps she's still trying to process everything," the elderly lady said gently.
"perhaps."
the conversation drifted into silence again.
eventually, more villagers filtered inside.
some arrived carrying baskets of vegetables. others still wore work gloves dusted with soil. one elderly couple shuffled in arm in arm while quietly debating whether it might rain before evening.
word spread quickly.
soon, the meeting house was filled with almost twenty people.
nobody seemed particularly bothered by mafuyu's presence.
curious, certainly.
concerned, yes.
afraid?
not in the slightest.
the old woman explained everything once more.
found in the forest.
no memories.
didn't know her own name.
the villagers exchanged thoughtful glances.
"hm..."
"poor child."
"i wonder where she came from."
one woman suggested checking neighboring villages over the coming weeks.
another proposed asking traveling merchants if anyone had reported a missing daughter.
a few days later, an older man stepped forward and said he'd be willing to ride down the mountain to see what he could find out.
every suggestion assumed one thing.
that mafuyu would remain here until then.
"..."
she wasn't sure how to feel about that.
one problem still remained.
"where will she stay?" someone asked.
the room quieted.
a middle-aged woman sighed apologetically.
we're happy to lend a hand, but our three kids are still with us at home, so things are a bit busy around here.
another man rubbed the back of his neck.
my brother recently moved back home and now my guest room is always occupied.
"i've only got the one bedroom."
"so do we."
one after another, gentle refusals filled the room.
not because nobody wanted to help.
simply because there wasn't enough space.
the old woman folded her hands together.
"i'd take her myself if i could."
"but..."
"my knees aren't what they used to be."
"i don't think i could properly look after someone else anymore."
no one blamed her.
the room settled into thoughtful silence.
the sound of the piano floated gently through the open windows, carrying the sweet melody outside into the air.
one phrase.
then another.
repeated patiently.
as though the musician had forgotten anyone else existed.
the old woman looked toward the sound.
"...kanade?"
it wasn't until that moment that mafuyu caught sight of someone else sitting off by themselves towards the back of the room, being really quiet.
she hadn't heard her enter.
a young girl, probably around her same age, slowly lifted her head from where she was sitting, a small notebook lying on her lap. she had been so focused on whatever she was doing that she seemed completely caught up in her own little world, until that moment when she finally looked up.
long silver hair spilled over one shoulder.
her blue eyes slowly opened, blinking away the sleep, and for a moment, it seemed like she was unaware of all the attention focused on her.
she had been listening all along.
"oh..."
mafuyu barely heard her, her voice was really soft.
"i still have the spare room."
the words hung in the air.
a few villagers exchanged relieved smiles.
"would that really be alright?" the old woman asked.
kanade nodded almost immediately.
"if... if she doesn't mind."
every pair of eyes turned toward mafuyu.
she met kanade's gaze for the first time.
those blue eyes were gentle.
not curious.
not pitying.
simply...
gentle.
mafuyu searched them for several long seconds.
there was no pressure hidden behind them.
no expectation.
just a quiet offer.
"...i don't mind."
kanade barely nodded, as if that one small gesture was all it took to settle the matter once and for all.
the old woman smiled warmly.
"well."
"i suppose that's that."
the gathering fell apart just as fast as it had come together.
as people went back to their conversations, some were already talking about the harvest that was going to happen the next day, and they all started to head outside. one of the older women came up to kanade and handed her a small bag of dried tea leaves, saying it was "for the guest". meanwhile, another woman told mafuyu to take a spare blanket, saying he could use it until everything was figured out. the older women were really kind and thoughtful, making sure everyone had what they needed. they were all very generous, and it was clear they wanted to make a good impression on their guest. the atmosphere was warm and welcoming, with everyone looking out for each other.
it all happened so naturally that mafuyu barely had time to process it.
less than an hour ago, she had been alone in a forest with no memories.
now...
a village had decided to care for her.
kanade stood still, waiting patiently by the doorway as the remaining villagers slowly made their way out, the last of them disappearing into the distance.
"...ready?"
mafuyu looked toward her.
"...yes."
neither of them spoke as they walked through the village.
the silence wasn't uncomfortable.
it simply... existed.
the afternoon had begun giving way to evening.
the mountains glowed amber beneath the lowering sun, long shadows stretching across the dirt paths. smoke rose lazily from chimneys as families prepared dinner, and somewhere nearby, children laughed while chasing one another between the houses.
in front of them, sitting quietly near the edge of the village, was a small house where a lonely piano tune floated out.
its windows reflected the setting sun.
for reasons she couldn't explain...
mafuyu slowed her steps.
she had the quiet feeling—
one she couldn't possibly justify—
that crossing the threshold of that small house was about to change her life.