Page 7 of Echoes of Eternity

Noboru’s expression grew increasingly pained as he tried to respond, but I continued, my frustration overriding any attempt at calm, shattering the facade I had built. “Whatever this is, is too little, too late.”

I could see his wings tightening against his back, a gesture of retreat, but I was too consumed by my own turmoil to notice or care. “Please, let me?—”

“No!” I shouted, cutting him off once more. “I don’t want to hear it. I’m already past the point of hearing anything that doesn’t address the reality of my situation. Just let me go. Let me return to what you’ve made me face, and let’s be done with it.”

I’ve never been one for dramatics, but this moment was different. The confusion swirling inside me was overwhelming, unlike anything I’d ever experienced. It was as if I was caught in a storm, grappling withemotions I didn’t understand, and it left me feeling utterly lost.

He fell silent, his expression a mixture of frustration and something else I couldn’t name. I turned away from him. The forest, now a silent witness to our exchange, seemed to echo with the gravity of the moment. My heart was heavy with the finality of my words, and I could feel the weight of what lay ahead pressing down on me. I turned and ran through the forest in the direction in which I came.

I cast one last look at Noboru, who remained where he stood, his divine presence an unwanted beacon calling to me in the midst of the growing storm brewing inside of me.

The path back to my life was clear, but it was now marked by the bitter knowledge of the choice I had been denied—a choice that had once seemed so attainable and now felt irretrievably out of reach. When would I ever get another opportunity?

I approached the marketplace, the once-bustling square now a hive of activity, with vendors calling out their wares and townsfolk moving about their daily routines. How long had I been missing? I never expected to return alive, and now that I have, I realize that my absence would have been noticed.

As I stood there, a wave of unease washed over me. I could already feel the weight of scrutiny pressing down, knowing that my return would undoubtedly raise questions. My mind raced through a flurry of excuses to stave off suspicion and preventmy servant from reporting anything unusual to my husband.

Perhaps I could say I was lost and took longer than expected to find my way back, I mused, though the excuse felt flimsy.Or I could claim the weather brought on a sudden illness and needed time to rest somewhere out of sight.

Another thought surfaced,Maybe I could fabricate a story about a chance encounter with someone who helped me—someone whose presence I should now explain away. I could emphasize how deeply grateful I am for the aid I received.

That was the worst excuse yet. My husband would surely blame me for coercing someone with my womanly wiles out of spite for him. It would only lead to more trouble, I told myself bitterly.

I tried to steady my breath, considering the best course of action. I needed to appear calm and composed, to make my excuses convincing enough to divert any suspicion. My heart pounded with anxiety while I prepared to face my servant, knowing that the truth was too dangerous to reveal.

I smoothed my clothes, trying to calm the frayed edges of my composure. Taking a deep breath, I turned to the other patrons with a practiced smile, engaging in light conversation and exchanging pleasantries, keeping up with the facade of Asato Kenzan’s wife. I needed to project an image of normalcy, to convince everyone that nothing was amiss.

As I mingled, my thoughts remained preoccupied with my servant, and my unease grew. I excused myselffrom the crowd with polite nods and made my way through the throng of people until I noticed a familiar figure pacing anxiously near a small stall. Wada was wringing her hands in a display of nervous energy. The sight of her pacing back and forth did little to ease my own anxiety.

Her eyes lit up with a mixture of relief and worry when she spotted me. “Mistress! There you are!” she exclaimed, rushing over to me with her bags of bought items. Her weathered face was etched with lines of concern, and her hands trembled slightly as she took hold of my arms.

“I’ve been searching for you everywhere,” Wada said, her voice quivering with suppressed fear. “I was so worried. Where have you been? What happened to you?”

I pulled away gently, all the excuses I had come up with earlier dissipating into the air as Noboru’s frustrated face flashed in the forefront of my mind. “I was... away, reflecting on things. I needed to be alone for a while.”

Wada’s gaze narrowed slightly, the concern giving way to something more guarded. “You’ve been gone longer than you should have. Did something happen? Were you in danger?”

I forced a reassuring smile, hoping to mask the nervousness that threatened to bubble to the surface. “It was not my intention to cause alarm. I lost track of time but all is well now.”

I watched her reaction closely, hoping my explanation would suffice and keep her from probing further.The pressure to maintain the illusion of normalcy was immense, and I could only hope my efforts would be enough to prevent any unwelcome reports from reaching my husband.

“Did you not find the silks you wanted?”

Her question was sincere, but I could see the flicker of unease behind her words. Wada’s concern was not only for my well-being but also, I suspected, rooted in the fear of what my prolonged absence might mean for her own safety and position.

“No, it’s alright. I’m fine,” I replied, trying to sound more reassuring than I felt. Though I could use the excuse of my husband reminding me not to waste money, the words refused to leave my lips. “Let’s return home. There are things I need to attend to.”

Wada’s expression softened, but her eyes betrayed a deeper, more personal fear. “I’m glad you’re safe. I just—” She hesitated, glancing around discreetly as if wary of eavesdroppers. “I just want to make sure you’re alright. I know how much your?—”

She stopped short, her eyes flickering with a mixture of fear and resignation. I could sense that she was about to say something more, something unspoken but deeply felt—a clear silent communication passed between us. I pressed my lips together.

Her shoulders slumped slightly, and she looked away, a hint of shame coloring her cheeks. “Mistress, I… I fear what might happen if you didn’t come back. Your husband?—”

I cut her off gently, knowing that my actions todayhave put her in the path of my husband’s potential wrath. “I understand. Let’s return home.”

Wada nodded, her demeanor shifting back to a more composed but still anxious stance. Guilt struck me but nothing could be done at this point. “Very well. Let’s go home then. I’ll make sure everything is in order.”

With each step, the weight of my recent encounter with Noboru settled heavily upon me. Instead of the death I sought, it ended in the possibility of betrayal. The harsh reality of that life now seemed more palpable than ever.

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