# Side Story 6
(From Jiman’s perspective)
Just a short distance away from where people gather, a world full of grass scents unfolds. Flowers not yet named, flowers that bloom briefly and end their lives when rain falls, grasses with intertwined stems, and grasses that look tough but have soft down. Nature generously shares its self-cultivated treasures and shines with vitality. In those moments among them, I could forget all matters between people.
When recalling foolish conflicts, endless greed, and unyielding stubbornness, the forest flowing according to simple and wondrous laws appeared even more beautiful. Making my claim that I hadn’t fled seem hollow, my turbulent heart settled more calmly in this green world. No one harmed anyone; everything just wriggled and remained alive. Even if they would perish when their time came, they didn’t try to defy fate with excessive desires. Within nature flowing as it is, I existed solely in the present.
With just one exception—I still couldn’t forget Ludin.
* * *
“I’ll leave this basket here!”
Shouting as if angry, then smiling broadly as he moves away—the boy. The only youngster living in the village. A child who had been my companion since I first arrived here. Somehow, seeing him reminded me of Rio. Much darker-skinned and mischievous, but it was his innocent and pure perspective, characteristic of children, that evoked Rio.
Though I had said I would stay for only a month and then leave, it had already been three months. While it was an excuse to say I hadn’t yet seen the entire forest, in reality, further gathering had little meaning. The reason I could stay so long in this small village was because the scenery here allowed me to reminisce deeply about one person. Not because of an undeserved lingering attachment, but because I could revisit him with affection lacking nothing.
“I’ll leave some food too. Make sure to come in the evening!”
The boy, whom I thought had run off, returns once more to emphasize. My thoughts scattered as I nodded to his high voice. Though all the villagers, numbering not even a few dozen, were kind, there were some exceptionally gentle people among them. For instance, that boy’s parents. Farmer couples with sincere smiles who knew the value of droplets of sweat. Just when I was about to forget, they would invite me to meticulously prepared meals, which were always enjoyable times.
There was still some time left before sunset. Having sufficiently experimented with yesterday’s leaves and dried flowers, I needed new specimens. Though not enough time to go deep into the forest, it would be enough to explore the trees growing at its edge. Dressing roughly, I hurriedly set out. At the bottom of the fence in front of the house lay the basket the boy had left and freshly baked bread with rising steam. Upon taking a bite, the taste of rough but honest grain spread throughout my mouth.
With each step through the trees, leaves rustled underfoot. The rich scent of soil also rose with every step. The trees here were all ancient, easily over a hundred years old. While there were rarely new trees growing, most were elderly ones that had endured the vicissitudes of time. I carefully collected bark with proper etiquette.
Trees that have silently endured for immeasurable time bear many wounds. On wounds where wind, rain, or hail once passed, numerous soils, flying seeds, and leaves have since touched, forming scabs. Perhaps, to heal someone’s wounds, a life that has overcome its own wounds is needed. When making medicine from this bark to treat the sick, their pain wouldn’t have been entirely in vain.
Perhaps that’s why I wanted to become a doctor. If I had just wanted to be a useful person, there would have been no reason to choose specifically that. In my poor and worn childhood, the criterion for choosing a dream was rather not money or honor. I wanted to be a doctor even if it meant building a mud house in the countryside and treating farmers’ children. I wanted to go where there was more desperate need. All these reasons were probably because I knew that my wounds would save someone else.
‘Perhaps it was to save you…’
Naturally, my thoughts shifted to him. The person for whom I felt desire for the first and last time. Loving him was easier than breathing. So easy that it made me wonder if it was alright to feel this way. It wasn’t that this love couldn’t be fulfilled, but I was distressed by the fact that I could do nothing for him.
Is Ludin happy now? Where is he and what is he doing? If he’s still staying in the palace, I hope he’s healthy…
I had never forgotten him for a moment. Even just seeing clouds rolling in the sky or feeling sunlight tickling my body, it was embarrassing how he came to mind. Now I’m just grateful that I can think of him like this, but at first, I couldn’t do anything easily with memories that didn’t fade with each passing day. When thinking of him, the entire world was a memory, and my whole heart was longing. I regained my composure only after humbly accepting that I was someone who could never forget him.
As he came to mind, as I longed for him, I prepared a place for him in a corner of my heart, and throughout the arduous journey, I was with Ludin. While other things were forgotten safely without resisting time, only Ludin’s outline became increasingly distinct until he finally stayed by my side. Since I hadn’t wished for much from the beginning, even that illusion was sufficient happiness.
The Ludin in my heart was always healthy, never losing his bright smile and affection. As if all the difficult times were just a passing drizzle, he smiled cheerfully and clearly. His mature yet pure gaze was enough to dispel all cold and give me strength to protect my dreams just by looking at it. He was someone I wanted to embrace immediately, yet simultaneously wanted to preserve that completeness entirely.
Just like that person.
“What are you doing?”
Like that… person?
“Bark, I see. Can this be used as medicine too?”
A person who looked exactly like Ludin was standing firmly among the old trees I had just passed by. Really vividly and clearly like a human with physical form. Though knowing he couldn’t possibly be here, I was momentarily dazed. Had my mind gone strange with longing?
“That’s interesting.”
“…”
“You seem surprised. Your face has turned pale.”
“…Ludin? Is it really you?”
I whispered as if speaking to empty air, imagining how absurd I might look to others. But Ludin answered in a clear voice.
“Who else would it be?”
“…”
“Have you been well?”
Then he gives a welcoming and pretty smile.
“I told you. If you don’t come, I’ll go.”
Beautifully, unbelievably, he approached me.
* * *
Throughout our descent to the village, I couldn’t shake off the dazed feeling. As if my head was broken, I lost my way, fell, and committed various odd acts. To me, walking absentmindedly like a fool, Ludin recounted life at the palace. Though it was strange to have the real, breathing Ludin still in front of me, the longing I had carefully stacked up instantly transformed into shining happiness. While listening to his safe and peaceful daily life, I gradually realized the fact that he had truly reappeared in my life.
Ludin said he wanted to see my living space. Though it was a place I stayed in every day, I felt shy showing it to someone. Seeing me trying to hide my increasingly reddening face, Ludin smiled as if he understood everything. Even while he looked around my room, I struggled to clear away as much of the messily spread luggage as possible.
“So this is where you stay… it’s a space that suits you.”
His review was concise. Though it was an unremarkable small room, it was an excellent house that had protected me from cold winds and rain. Setting aside the embarrassment momentarily, I welcomed this miraculous guest with a smile. Ludin opened his mouth as if to say something more, but before his words could begin, someone flung open the door and jumped inside.
“Sir Jiman!”
It was that boy from earlier. Surprised by the child’s sudden intrusion, I flapped my lips awkwardly. Ludin looked a bit startled. I quickly tried to explain about tonight’s dinner invitation and the affection of the villagers in a flurry, but Ludin’s question came first.
“Did you get a son in the meantime?”
“What?? No! He’s just a boy who lives in the village!!”
The boy just watched us with wide-open eyes.
“I’m joking.”
Ludin enjoyed seeing me get flustered.
“We already know each other. He told me you were in the forest.”
He spread his arms toward the child. The boy, uncharacteristically acting cute, nestled into Ludin’s arms and giggled. After a moment of bewilderment at this unexpected combination, Ludin spoke refreshingly and led me out the door.
“Let’s go. I’m invited for dinner too.”
“Don’t be late again, please hurry, Sir Jiman.”
The child was the same. Urged by the two of them, not even having time to dust off the soil on my clothes as I stepped outside, I recalled a longed-for moment. Two adults and one child. If asked to count the joyful moments, I could talk for days and nights without sleep. Suddenly, I missed Rio terribly. Was it time to return to the palace? The sun, already half-hidden below the horizon, cast long red light, and Ludin smiled as if he had read all my thoughts.
