I Picked Up a Witch from a Novel

Episode 0-b. The One Who Falls.

Time flows.

Three years.

It flows equally for those who move forward and for those left behind.

However, whether the weight of that time can truly be considered equal, no one can say.

Is the ashen time truly like that of an ordinary person, or does the weight of waiting really amount to just three years?

Thus, no one can reach that truth.

In the backdrop of an empire disappearing down a back alley, only the ashen woman remains aware.

There is a woman waiting for a certain traveler who left on a journey for herself but ultimately disappeared before her eyes.

In a sense, she is undoubtedly a calamity of the world.

Her talent overflows and spills over too much.

The sword wielded by the sword saint could be shattered by just a single incantation spoken by her.

The arm that the great sorcerer swings with all his might will leave no trace in the storm that pours forth.

The halberd swung by the beastman chief will splinter.

The flames belched forth by the dragon will freeze.

The arrows of the elf and the teeth of the ogre.

The hammer of the dwarf and the stardust of the fairy.

All of these will be swept away and meet their end by her anger alone.

And the woman will bring crashing down and subjugate the rush of countless heroes.

But.

Even so, the woman restrains her instincts.

Ignoring such emotions, she simply waits and endures.

Enduring painfully and arduously with the hope that a traveler will move forward and find happiness.

Some may worry, and some may look at her with pity.

But those alone do not give much meaning to the woman.

For now, only a traveler moving toward a goal can hold meaning for her.

Yet, mournfully, the story continues to flow.

The woman inevitably falls.

Even if the woman writhes in pain and cries sadly.

As a result of ink once blurred.

She will face such trials again and again.

The ashen witch, Belia.

No.

The ashen woman, Asha.

Choose.

For a new □□.

********

The market street is always bustling.

“Asha, here you go. I put in a bit more than usual, so don’t just give it all to Rendo; it’s okay for you to eat some too.”

“Ah, thank you. I’ll see you again next time.”

“Yeah, come again next time!”

The scenery of the market street where I live is always warm and kind.

People greet me with smiles, and the familiar shopkeepers always give me a little something extra.

So, I took a candy from the bag handed to me by the shopkeeper and put it in my mouth.

Sweet and sticky, it leaves traces as it sticks around my mouth for a while.

As I worked my tongue to pry off the candy stuck to my teeth, the sweetness that had diminished now surged back and filled my mouth.

Now, it has become a habit, and even as I walk down the street, I keep taking out one candy after another and popping them into my mouth.

However.

Is it the same sweetness of candy as before?

Or does it still have the same stickiness as before?

If someone were to ask me humorously whether the candy still feels warm,

I might shake my head and laugh hollowly.

Just three years have turned it into something else.

The candy is sweet but has become a bit bitter.

The candy is sticky but has fallen apart.

The warmth once felt from the candy has long since drifted away, leaving only coldness behind.

I no longer feel dazed.

I no longer feel buoyant.

Just one candy doesn’t hasten the passage of time.

“Ain.”

So, I utter words sweeter than that.

“Ain.”

Of course, this phrase has changed in that time as well.

It has become more intense and miserable than before.

“…, I miss you.”

It has become a word soaked with my emotions, crying out softly.

I moved my feet, passing by people.

Muttering that way, I went through the market street and back to the grocery store.

And I.

“Ain.”

Finally murmured that once more and raised the corners of my mouth slightly.

I forced my eyes into a round shape and cleared my throat with a hum.

Knock, knock-

I knocked and entered the grocery store.

“Good job, Asha. Hurry in and rest.”

“I’m back from errands, Uncle.”

I smiled at the uncle, whose face was a little more lined.

This is.

My daily life that has continued for three years.

The grocery store is still busy.

“Asha, when you have time, you need to bring more vegetable stock here!”

“I’ll bring it right away. Excuse me, dear customers, just a moment please.”

It’s still busy and still hectic.

Indeed, it was because I was too busy that my body was tired, therefore preventing my mind from getting tangled in complexities.

And yet.

Even now, three years later, the absence of one person is distinctly felt, causing me to move about busily in ways I normally wouldn’t.

“Asha, I’m sorry, but can you help with this too?”

“… Yes, Uncle. You can just keep doing what you usually do.”

Certainly, my surroundings are always filled with customers, so I shouldn’t feel lonely.

Yet during the passage of these three years, I have looked at the empty seat next to me without fail every single day.

“…”

So I.

Even in the midst of such busyness, sometimes gaze at the spot where he once stood intently.

Then, startled by the call of a customer, I would flinch and turn my eyes back to continue my daily routine.

I certainly said it was okay.

I certainly said I could wait.

I said I would live for him, that I would endure any pain for you.

Saying that, I sent him off.

However, Ain.

While others fill the void he left with something else and move on, to me, that void always feels enormous.

Day after day.

As each day stacks on top of another, the void only grows larger.

Now, my smile begins to tremble a bit.

In the hand I have hidden behind my back is a lump of ash.

“…, Ain.”

I have endured for three years for you,

But now, it’s a bit, or rather, way too hard for me.

The scenery without you.

To me, it is a bit, or rather, overwhelmingly daunting and frightening.

Feigning nonchalance, I again greet the customers.

“…, Next customer. I’ll assist with checkout.”

It is painful to enjoy the peace hidden behind your efforts.

Yet, I shut my eyes tight at the fact that my bracelet is still firmly tied and continue to speak.

“Thank you. … We hope you will visit our Erelina grocery store again.”

It is because the promise we shared is the only thing that remains for me.

So.

Be a good girl.

I must continue to be a good girl even without him.

I don’t want to revert to a beast that cannot even keep that small promise.

If I were to break the promise, all that would remain for me would be the completely empty seat beside me.

Once the grocery store work is done, I always head outside.

The market street I’ve grown accustomed to over the years hasn’t changed, so even when I walk mindlessly, I always find my way to the same places.

The bakery where I went with Ain still has steam wafting up.

The candy store we visited still emanates the sweet scent.

Clack, clack—

As I step forward, I hear the sound of my shoes.

In the clothing store where Ain and I used to visit, thicker clothes have been hung out for the cold weather.

The street vendor’s food we shared looks delectable today as well.

Clack, clack—

My footsteps remain the same.

As I nod to the people who greet me while looking around.

Clack, clack—

I walk forward, taking in the things I had once experienced with Ain.

The shabby antique shop.

The noodle shop with a wooden sign.

The repair shop where I patched up the torn hem of a skirt.

Clack, clack—

As I pass by, gazing at each one with a slightly slowed pace, I soon find myself in front of the alley that once reeked of my childhood and step forward into it absentmindedly.

In other words, I have always chased after memories.

“…”

Now, his distinct footsteps, once loud, no longer echo in my ears.

What is left for me are only the promises made with him and the memories shared.

I gently touch the unbreakable bracelet and step into the street, walking aimlessly.

I miss you.

Memories create a cloud of warmth in one’s heart while also evoking a bittersweet sorrow.

Somewhere along the line, I kept revisiting only the moments shared with him.

And.

With a thud—

As I slowly walk into the alley, the sound of something colliding resonates inside the alley.

“Ha ha, I won!”

“Ah, do it again! This time I wasn’t trying!”

Then, the giggling voices of children can be heard.

So, as I pushed myself into that scene.

“Whoa! Look, it’s the pretty sister from the grocery store.”

“…”

The children, crouched down playing with small, colorful marbles, mutter as they notice my figure.

After staring blankly for a while, they blush, stutter, and fumble with the marbles they have been playing with.

“Here! Sister, take this.”

Suddenly, they hand it to me and then dash away.

After they vanish, left in my hands are two marbles.

“…”

The colorful, beautifully shining marbles seem quite pretty.

I looked at them for a moment and smiled bitterly.

I now understand.

I know the value of the two marbles I once gave as a child.

They are trivial enough that children would toss them away after playing, and they could not possibly hold any monetary value.

And then.

I recall the smile he had when he accepted them, relieved because of my gesture.

“…, Ain is a fool.”

Looking back now, that was definitely a lie.

It was a silly fib spoken to reassure me as I timidly handed them over.

Yet, even recalling that doesn’t stir feelings of shame or embarrassment within me.

The emotion I feel is something warm and fluttering.

Only the warmth left by the lie that was uttered for my sake remains.

“…, Ain.”

Thus, he made my heart thump with just these two trivial marbles.

So,

While it might be trivial to everyone else, it is priceless to me.

Even if it could translate to just a few coins, the smile he had when he received it far outweighed that.

At least to me, it had that value.

I would think it was worth giving my life just to see his smile again.

And I.

I want to see his smile once more.

Thus, I came to know this feeling of yearning.

Ain.

I miss you.

Though it has only been three years.

To me, it feels longer and far more painful than the last ten years.

I miss you so much.

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