Sunlight streamed through the mountains of Giramuzi, casting golden warmth over the little cottage that pulsed with quiet life. Inside, Minazuki Takao—the healer of the mountain—moved gently among pots and herbs, tending to wilting leaves with steady hands. His cottage was a place where both life and death lingered, but nothing was ever abandoned.
A knock echoed at the door.
"Takao, are you in there?" called a familiar voice.
Takao smiled faintly and opened the door. "Ah, Mami. Come in."
The old woman stepped inside, her eyes sweeping over the crowded shelves, each corner filled with jars of dried petals, seeds, and roots. She let out a sigh both amused and admiring.
"Takao, you're so good with medicines and plants. Why don't you go somewhere bigger, earn a name, earn some money? You're young—it's still your time to explore."
Takao didn't answer immediately. He walked toward a pot, set a few tea leaves to boil, and finally spoke in his calm tone.
"Mami… to me, money is not success. I'm happy here. These plants and herbs—" he gestured toward the rows of leaves swaying in the window light, "—they give me enough to never starve. In return, they deserve my care. Isn't that fair?"
The old woman laughed softly, shaking her head.
"And what if some distant land offers you a great position? What then?"
Takao paused. His gaze lingered on the curling steam rising from the pot.
"…That, I don't know. If they truly see me for who I am, if their purpose is genuine… perhaps I'll accept. Otherwise, I'll remain here."
"You're too pure for this world, Takao," she said with a chuckle. "Alright, have it your way. I'll get going now."
Before she could rise, Takao interrupted politely.
"Don't leave so soon. Stay a while—I made tea just the way you like."
The old woman smiled, her eyes softening. "Still caring for this wrinkled body, hm?"
Takao grinned, feigning seriousness. "Of course, Mami."
She reached out, twisting his ear with mock severity. "How many times have I told you not to call me 'Mami'? I'm not that young anymore!"
"Ow, ow! It hurts!" Takao laughed, playing along. "Alright, fine… Baa-baa."
They both burst into hearty chuckles, filling the cottage with warmth.
The afternoon slipped away in laughter and small comforts. When dusk arrived, the old woman finally left. Takao stepped outside, gazing at the sky where strokes of gold and crimson painted the horizon. A soft breeze carried the scent of wildflowers, brushing against his senses.
He breathed deeply, smiling in quiet contentment. Fulfilled, yet with a strange yearning—like he wanted to share this precious peace with someone who wasn't there.
The old woman, Mizaki, lived alone at the foothills with nothing but her cattle for company. Perhaps that was why she visited Takao every day—to fill her silence. And Takao, in turn, offered her laughter, tea, and the simple kindness of not letting loneliness win.
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Part 2 gonna come very soon...