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Ayane was starting to realize something about herself — she'd grown fond of patting Ze on the head.
After she gave him a gentle tap, she waited for his response. This time, Ze didn't answer right away.
He seemed to understand that her question wasn't casual — it carried weight, and he wanted to think before answering.
But it didn't take him long. His reply came, as always, short and sure.
"Alright. From now on, I'll train in swordsmanship with you, Ayane."
His words were simple, but the resolve behind them was firm. Each syllable carried determination — a promise that he would endure pain, fatigue, and hardship if it meant learning the way of the sword by her side.
Ayane saw the conviction in his eyes and understood.
Ze's body was naturally strong and balanced — she'd noticed that much from the way he healed. With such potential, learning swordsmanship would come easily to him.
Even so, a small part of her still worried.
She knew Ze's current resolve came from his childlike honesty — the kind of sincerity that came with memory loss. But what if, like a child, he lost interest later on?
After all, even grown warriors struggled to stay committed under the harsh discipline of the blade.
Still, she smiled to herself. Whether or not he stuck with it wasn't the most important thing.
What mattered was helping him recover — step by step — from the trauma of his lost memories.
Just as she was explaining the basics of swordsmanship to him, a familiar voice called from outside the courtyard.
Bang, bang, bang!
"Oi, Ayane! You home?"
It was Uncle Ben.
Ayane was still in the yard with Ze, so she picked up the iron plowhead he'd come for and walked toward the gate. Ze, quiet as ever, followed behind her.
With one hand she held the plow, and with the other, she slid open the gate's latch.
"Morning, Uncle Ben," she greeted him. "Here, step back a bit."
He shuffled backward as she set the heavy plow down in front of him.
Then, Ayane opened her hand expectantly.
Uncle Ben chuckled, fishing out the seven hundred Berries he'd prepared, and placed them into her palm.
But as he did, his eyes flicked past her — to Ze, standing silently in the doorway behind her.
He blinked, puzzled.
Ayane was known in the village as a bit of a loner. She kept to herself, never had friends over — certainly never a man.
So seeing a tall, bandaged stranger at her home was… unexpected.
Uncle Ben scratched his head. "And this young man is…?"
For once, Ayane froze. She hadn't thought that far ahead.
A friend? A brother? What was she supposed to say?
She met Uncle Ben's curious eyes and forced a calm smile.
"This is Ze," she said finally. "He's my apprentice. A blacksmith needs strength, after all — and we women can't always handle the heavy work."
Uncle Ben almost laughed. If there was anyone in the whole village who didn't lack strength, it was Ayane.
But she kept a straight face, and before he could ask more, she added quickly, "Uncle Ben, this is Ze — just call him Ze."
Then she turned to Ze. "Ze, Uncle Ben's heading home now. Say goodbye."
Ze nodded seriously. "Goodbye, Uncle Ben."
Caught off guard, the old man waved awkwardly. "Ah… right. Goodbye, Ze."
Before he could say another word, Ayane was already sliding the gate shut. He took the hint and left.
Ayane turned back toward Ze, ready to resume their lesson — when suddenly, a loud grrrrrrrr broke the quiet.
She paused, then looked down.
The sound had come from Ze's stomach.
Ze met her gaze with innocent honesty. "Hungry."
Ayane smiled gently. "Alright, I'll make us breakfast. Come help me out, Ze."
She didn't mean for him to actually cook — she just wanted to start teaching him small daily skills, to help him rebuild a sense of normal life.
She led him into the kitchen.
"Here," she said, pointing to the stove's firebox. "Sit there and watch the flames. When it burns low, add some of the wood beside you. Got it?"
Ze nodded, though confusion flickered in his eyes. So she knelt beside him, demonstrating exactly how to do it, step by step.
Then, she took out the dough she'd prepared yesterday and began steaming buns. On the second pot, she scooped rice from a wooden bucket to make porridge.
From the shaded corner of the kitchen, she took out a small wooden box, opened it, and picked out a few pieces of salted vegetables.
She placed them in a small dish and set it beside Ze. "Here, snack on these for now."
Ze began nibbling the pickles obediently while keeping an eye on the fire, just as she'd shown him.
Watching him learn so quickly, Ayane couldn't help but feel impressed. Even without his memories, Ze absorbed everything she taught him — and remembered it.
Ayane, by nature, was patient with those she taught — but she didn't like repeating herself. Seeing Ze grasp things after just one explanation pleased her greatly.
Soon, the kitchen filled with the comforting smell of steamed buns and warm rice porridge.
Together, they carried the food into the living room and set it on the table.
Ayane watched as Ze began to eat — big, eager bites of soft buns and spoonfuls of porridge.
And for the first time in a long while, she felt it:
something simple, something she hadn't known she'd missed.
Warmth.
The warmth of sharing a quiet morning — of not being alone anymore.