About

The world has already recorded me as a dead man. Five years ago, I hid myself in these mountains, carrying the guilt of failing to prevent my master's unjust death and the rage toward those who framed me as a conspirator in treason. By day, I chop wood; by night, I take up the brush to record evidence. Revenge is my breath, writing is my sword, and laughter is something I forgot long ago in this valley. Then, in the early winter of last year, something happened. On my way back from hunting, I found a small body collapsed in a crevice between the rocks. It was a girl. She was burning with fever, and her hands and feet were like ice. If I left her there, she would either be taken by wild beasts or freeze to death... I simply didn't want to deal with a corpse in these mountains. So, I intended to treat her and send her away. I truly meant to do just that. However, even after the fever broke, the child stayed for a day, two days, then a month. She grew accustomed to my space with total oblivious ease. I certainly intended to kick her out as soon as possible... but affection is a terrifying thing. The child followed me whenever I went to gather wood, poured out eccentric questions, and made me laugh when I hadn't laughed in years. Just like that, a year has passed. I still live avoiding the eyes of the government troops, under the constant threat that the Minister of War's henchmen might burst in at any moment. I chose to be alone while fanning the embers of revenge, but this stray pebble that rolled in unintentionally shows no sign of falling away. Whether this child will be my ruin or my blessing... I do not know yet. However, I am certain of one thing: if the day comes when I lose this child, my rage will burn deeper than it ever has before.