# Chapter 25
My insides were in turmoil. Cal’s gaze, the thrown stone, “monster,” and Rite’s hurt purple eyes. Everything I had seen today continued to torment me. It was my fault. Both the hat coming off and not being able to block even a small stone aimed at Rite. At this age, I still couldn’t do anything properly. I thought I had become a different person after leaving the imperial palace and living in the forest, but it was all an illusion.
Plin wasn’t like this. He was decisive and wise in everything, a reliable person. That’s why I believed his words without question.
‘You’ll do well.’
That’s what he told me before I left for the imperial palace. It had been a long time since I’d reflected on those words. When I was staying at the palace, I recalled those words almost daily. My body felt heavy, as if I had fallen into the same despair as back then.
Plin, I haven’t done anything well since then.
It felt like the ground was sinking beneath my feet. I couldn’t see where to step. From a small rural village to the imperial palace. From the palace back to the Winter Forest. I had no place anywhere I went.
It felt like I was constantly falling, but everything around me was so dark that I couldn’t even be sure of that. Whether I was plummeting or just staying in place.
I wanted to go somewhere without people. Even a forest full of monsters wasn’t as frightening as people. That’s why I settled in an abandoned cabin. A place where I didn’t know anyone gave me both fear and stability. There were no people I liked here, but there were also no people I disliked. That fact gave me great comfort.
Yet, I couldn’t remain alone. I met Rite and even came to know who lived in the village and how they lived. My plan was useless. My surroundings piled up with things I couldn’t control, and everything was a mess.
I liked that machines were completely different from life. All parts moved and operated under my control. Even if errors occurred, I could just disassemble and fix them. But my life wasn’t like that. I couldn’t properly fix anything or choose even a single screw. If I fixed one place, a defect would pop up somewhere else.
So I stopped the operation of unnecessary functions. I decided to accomplish only minimal movements with minimal parts.
Buried in my bed, I blinked. If Plin were alive, perhaps he would have said:
‘Moping is done during the day, not at night. Just go to sleep.’
The fact that I can remember it so specifically makes me think I might have heard it once before.
I raised my heavy body and turned on the Aether lamp. Carrying the lamp, I approached the bookshelf and searched for Plin’s diary. Since there was no specific order marked, I had to flip through several volumes before I could find the diary I wanted to see. The record right after Plin took me in.
I returned to bed, made myself comfortable, and opened the diary. The first few pages were about things before he brought me, but looking through them briefly, I didn’t see any reason for his decision to adopt or his inner struggles. Just one sentence: I should visit the orphanage tomorrow. That was all. I couldn’t be certain since I didn’t have time to examine it thoroughly, but even that aspect was so very Plin-like.
Plin pointed me out right away on his first day at the orphanage. Typically, people observe children playing or have conversations with them before making a decision, but Plin had no hesitation. My question was answered in the first line of the next diary entry.
The director was right. The child has talent in alchemy. It’s a good foundation for becoming an engineer.
Was he looking for a disciple from the beginning? But if that were the case, it would have been better to choose from children of good families. If he had offered to raise a child to be an engineer, they would have gladly agreed and provided substantial financial support. So why?
From the beginning, Plin didn’t seem particularly eager about having a disciple or anything like that. He never actively taught me first. Only when I watched over his shoulder and tried to imitate him would he point out what I did wrong. Plin was a skilled engineer, but not a particularly kind or gentle teacher.
There might be hints if I searched through earlier diaries, but now wasn’t the time for that. Suppressing my curiosity, I continued reading the diary.
His name is Arden. Seven years old. Unlike what I thought, he doesn’t act rowdy and is quiet, but often seems lost in thought even when called.
It was a strange feeling. As I read, scenes and emotions from that time gradually surfaced.
From Plin’s perspective, it might have looked that way. I smiled faintly and turned the page. Brief notes about Plin’s research were scattered throughout the diary.
Arden has aspects that are unlike a child. Today, he volunteered to wash dishes I hadn’t even asked him to do and broke a plate. When I heard the loud noise and went to check, I saw him picking up glass shards with his bare hands. I wasn’t angry. But I didn’t know whether I should scold him or comfort him by saying it was okay, so I just cleaned up with him. I think the child is more afraid of me now.
I never thought Plin had such concerns. And Plin’s conclusion was wrong. I wasn’t afraid. There was no reason to be afraid when he neither shouted at me nor sighed. I just didn’t want to disappoint him. If Plin had rejected me, I thought I would have to go back to the orphanage.
I quickly skimmed through the diary. There was an incident I was looking for. I was certain it would be written in the diary. Because that day…
The child cried.
It was the first time I had cried since I went to Plin’s house. It felt like the whole world hated me. I couldn’t bear the ridicule and contempt of the surrounding children, and despite my frustration, tears fell.
Let’s go home. When I looked up at the sudden voice, there was Plin. I had never been so glad to see Plin as I was that day.
I made eye contact with a child crying on the street. The children around scattered as soon as they saw me. On the way home, I stopped briefly at a store. I thought he would be waiting outside since he saw me enter the store, but when I came out, Arden was gone. Worried that he might have run away, I went home to find a faint sound of crying coming from the second floor. I bought lots of pudding, but he wouldn’t come down from his room. I don’t know how to comfort him. So I made a machine for the child.
Plin always bought pudding when something happened. When I was sick, when there was something to praise, and when I was feeling down—it was always the same. Pudding was Plin’s comfort and encouragement to me.
I wanted to do something like that for Rite too.
Below that, the design and detailed manufacturing process were written alongside the diagram. I gently fidgeted with the ear cuff wrapping my earlobe. The original that Plin had made was already gone, but this was a replica I had made by roughly eyeballing it. I had tried my best to copy it, but looking at the design, there were slight differences.
“If there was a design, he should have shown it to me earlier.”
Muttering quietly, I continued reading the following content. At some point, my insides became calm and drowsiness gradually washed over me. Looking outside the window, the force of the heavily falling snow had diminished. It would be dawn soon. It would be good to catch a little sleep before then. I closed the diary and tried to sleep.
* * *
I slept in later than usual. There wasn’t a big difference, but worried that Rite might have woken up first, I didn’t linger and got out of bed immediately. When I left the room, the air was chilly. It felt like wind was blowing from somewhere. I should have closed all the windows. Turning my gaze, I saw a half-open door.
The old door was swaying slightly, unable to withstand the biting wind. The snow seemed to have completely stopped, but the snow that had fallen throughout the night had piled up at the entrance inside the house. I always secured the doors before going to bed. No matter how distracted I was yesterday, I wouldn’t have forgotten. With an ominous feeling, I headed straight to Rite’s room.
“Rite. I’m coming in.”
I knocked, but there was no response. Somehow, I didn’t have the courage to open the door. It felt like something I couldn’t handle would jump out, whatever it might be.
I took a deep breath and slowly opened the door.
“…Rite.”
Nothing jumped out. There was simply nothing. Including Rite.
The bed, with the blanket neatly arranged, was flat. I left the room again and went around the house. Even so, it was a small cabin, so it didn’t take much time. Not in the rocking chair in the living room, nor on the worn sofa, nor in the kitchen and dining table. After searching even the bathroom, I returned to Rite’s room and even felt the made bed with my hands. He really wasn’t there.
As I was about to leave Rite’s room, something caught my eye. The mobile hanging on the wall next to the bed. The crude mobile I had made for Rite. It was gone. If it were a thief or a kidnapper, they wouldn’t have taken a trinket that wasn’t worth any money. Rite had left on his own. Why? When?
I stood still, lost in thought. As soon as I came to my senses, I rushed outside. I only put on the coat hanging in the hallway over my pajamas. Walking frantically, I felt my feet getting wet, and when I checked, I realized I was still wearing indoor slippers. They were already soaked even though I hadn’t walked far. If I continued walking like this, I might get frostbite, but there was no time to go back and change. I ran frantically through the forest towards the village.
Rite had left home. Taking only the mobile with him.
That thought alone filled my mind.
