“......”

After staring at the food for a long while, Yuder finally picked up his fork and stabbed a piece. He put it in his mouth and slowly chewed—and, as expected, it tasted exactly like Shuseiner’s cooking back in Peleta.

No one would ever believe that this dish had been made by someone cooking for the first time in his life.

“How is it?”

“...I can’t help but think it’s unfair.”

“Hm?”

Kishiar, resting his chin on his hand with a face full of expectation, blinked in surprise. Yuder let out a sigh at that smug expression.

“I may not have a refined palate, but I can tell that this tastes almost indistinguishable from something Shuseiner made.”

“So... that means it tastes good?”

Wasn’t that obvious?

Yuder didn’t answer. He just kept chewing. And Kishiar, apparently taking that silence as confirmation, smiled contentedly. 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂

They sat across from each other and ate their breakfast. The space was so cramped that their knees and legs brushed and tangled under the table, but the shared body heat didn’t feel uncomfortable in the slightest. Even though they both ate slower than usual, the food disappeared in no time. As Yuder stared at the empty plates, Kishiar spoke with a satisfied smile.

“So this is what it feels like when someone enjoys something you made. I think I finally understand how Shuseiner feels. Maybe I should start taking an interest in cooking.”

The man already lived a life three times busier than most. Now he wanted to learn to cook, too? No matter how happy he was, that joke was going too far. Yuder thought as much while he began clearing the table.

“So... are we going to visit your grandfather now?”

“Yes. It’s nearby—not far at all.”

“Is there anything we need to prepare?”

“No. We can just go.”

Funeral customs in Orr varied slightly depending on class and region. Nobles or those with money typically held ceremonies in a temple and were buried in nearby family plots. But most commoners were cremated. The place where the ashes were scattered varied by region. In this central mountain area where Yuder lived, they were typically scattered near trees or by a stream.

Yuder’s grandfather had followed that tradition. After cremation, his ashes were scattered into the water near his favorite spot by the house. Yuder explained all this casually as they walked without hesitation.

“He picked the location himself before he passed. It’s not somewhere people visit often, but the scenery is beautiful.”

The destination appeared quickly. It was only a ten-minute walk from the house—a truly nearby place.

A gently sloping riverside that flowed from the valley. It was wide and deep enough to resemble a small river. That was where his grandfather’s ashes had been scattered.

Yuder stared silently at the spot he hadn’t visited in a long time, then stepped closer. From the swiftly flowing water beneath his feet came a clear and chilly aura.

His grandfather had chosen the spot himself but requested that no markers be left. To anyone who didn’t know, it was just an ordinary stream.

“This is the place.”

Standing beside Yuder, Kishiar whispered gently.

“The sun hits here well. And like you said, the view’s beautiful. Looks like it would’ve been perfect for swimming in the summer.”

“Yes. Just as you said... I used to spend nearly every summer here.”

Though not only in summer—this spot had been a favorite playground and peaceful place for Yuder in every season.

“This rock here is perfect to sit on.”

“Oh, you’re right. Even has a nice backrest.”

Yuder’s lips curled up at the playful tone. It felt oddly strange to be sitting here with someone, in a place only he had known since his grandfather passed.

Was this how Kishiar felt when he showed me around Peleta?

Sitting side by side with Kishiar, Yuder gazed out at the flowing water. He’d come here several times since his grandfather’s death, but he had never felt the quiet warmth now wrapping around his whole body.

As if imprinting that warmth inside himself, Yuder took a deep breath and spoke.

“Actually... I had a dream about my grandfather earlier.”

“What kind of dream?”

“One from just before he passed... the day he left me his final words.”

The word farewell tended to darken the mood considerably. Yuder, wanting to convey that the dream wasn’t so somber, explained it in detail, just as he remembered it, then lowered his eyes.

“I wasn’t particularly sad or anything... but it left a strange feeling. Even in my previous life, I never once dreamed about him after I left home, and yet now, just being here, it all came rushing back.”

“...That might be.”

After saying that, Kishiar gently placed his hand on top of Yuder’s, which was resting on the rock. The warmth seeping through one layer of glove slowly spread into his body.

“Hearing your story, it’s clear how much he loved and cared for his grandson. He sounds like an amazing man—so prepared, so full of love.”

“Yes. He even made several chairs in different sizes in advance for me as I was growing up. I think I was able to live on my own without difficulty all thanks to him.”

“Chairs?”

“Yes. The ones we use now are adult-sized. But there are smaller ones in the storage shed. I used them when I was younger. I’ve outgrown them now, of course...”

“That’s impressive. I could learn a thing or two from him.”

Yuder smiled faintly.

“As a child, I never understood why he kept remaking chairs in different sizes. But as I grew up, I realized how useful it was.”

“Custom-made to fit your body is definitely better.”

“Yes.”

Chairs were common enough furniture. But few households made separate chairs just for children. Most commoner families couldn’t afford the time or money.

So most children grew up eating at adult tables, awkwardly perched on too-high chairs. Height-adjustable chairs during a child’s growth were a luxury usually reserved for nobles. But thanks to his grandfather’s woodworking skills, Yuder had always had chairs that fit him perfectly. Even after his grandfather’s death, there were enough pre-made chairs left that he could keep switching them out comfortably.

Back then, I didn’t realize how incredible that was.

His grandfather had also replaced his clothes and shoes regularly as he grew. Thinking about it now, that was remarkable care. After his grandfather passed, Yuder had grown used to buying oversized adult clothes and wearing them loosely just to avoid the hassle of getting proper ones.

Looking back... he really was a meticulous man, even in the smallest things.

“They say he did all kinds of jobs while traveling in his younger days. Maybe that’s why he was different from other people in some ways. He was also literate, so he handled a lot of writing tasks for the village. He used to keep very detailed ledgers, too... One time, I accidentally spilled water on one and...”

As he continued talking, more and more memories of his grandfather surfaced, and his words ran longer. Feeling a bit self-conscious for rambling, Yuder trailed off. But the man beside him, who had listened quietly the whole time, simply smiled and encouraged him.

“You came to visit him. It’s only natural to talk about him. I’d be glad if you’d tell me more—anything that comes to mind.”

“You’re not bored?”

“Not at all.”

Kishiar tilted his head, resting it against Yuder’s temple.

“I’ve always wanted to know more about you. There’s no way I’d find this boring. Even the smallest thing—I want to hear it all.”

His voice carried genuine warmth and longing.

Yuder leaned his head gently against Kishiar’s and let out a long breath.

“Grandfather used to talk often about what would happen after he died. He said death was natural and didn’t want me to fall into sorrow when he passed. He said not to worry, because even if he went on a long journey, he’d always be thinking of me. He said it so many times that when he really did pass, I didn’t shed a single tear.”

It was strange. He didn’t cry at all. Even when he cremated his grandfather and scattered the ashes with the help of ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) villagers his grandfather had known well—some of whom might have also heard those words—he didn’t cry.

Even when he came home to the bed where the old man had just been lying, he still didn’t cry. He simply continued his daily life, just as his grandfather had wished.

Sometimes he visited this stream. He continued the work his grandfather had done. He went on living—quietly, peacefully.

As if he had been alone from the very beginning.