Chapter 10

Spring Sunshine and Signs of Thaw
The spring sunshine shone down on the young leaves of the forest trees, and the ground was now covered in a vibrant blanket of wildflowers. Akio and the children were hard at work on a project they had been planning all winter—preparing a vegetable patch. Using a wooden hoe Akio had crafted, they tilled a sunny patch of land near the cabin. Ayane and Alto formed neat rows in the soil, while Kenta, Miko, and Yume did their best with their small hands, removing stones and planting edible seeds and pieces of tubers Akio had found.

Meanwhile, Akio continued another routine he had kept up every few days—visiting the deep forest where he had first met Sylvia. Though Sylvia hadn’t shown herself much since then, Akio never gave up. Sometimes, he would leave behind fragrant bread made by Ayane from crushed nuts and precious honey they had stumbled upon in a hollow tree. Other times, he’d leave small wooden birds or animals he had carved during his spare moments, placing them gently atop the mossy rock before leaving.

“I hope Sylvia-san likes the bread…”

“Maybe she’ll like the little bird…”

The children, fully supporting Akio’s efforts, often voiced such hopes.

What Akio didn’t know was that after he left, Sylvia would quietly emerge from the shadows of the undergrowth. She would gaze at the offerings left behind, her deep green eyes flickering with something complex—especially when she saw the small wooden bird, no larger than her palm. It seemed to stir something within her, something long forgotten. Without letting anyone see, she would always take the gifts home with her.

One day, Akio was deep in the forest, gathering rich leaf mulch for the vegetable patch. As he worked, he happened to look up and spotted a familiar figure collecting herbs at the base of a large tree nearby. It was Sylvia.

“Sylvia-san,” Akio called out.

Sylvia’s shoulders tensed slightly, but she quickly masked her reaction with her usual stoic expression.

“… You again. Humans are so relentlessly persistent.”

Her words lacked the sharpness they once carried, or so Akio thought.

“This area looks like it has good soil for crops,” Akio remarked. “By the way… if it’s not too much trouble, could you tell me a little more about medicinal herbs?”

Sylvia let out a sigh but, surprisingly, responded immediately.

“That yellow flower with five petals over there. Good for stomachaches. Crush the leaves and drink the juice. But the roots are deadly poison. Don’t mistake them.”

She then pointed to another plant, its bell-shaped purple flowers swaying in the breeze.

“That one reduces inflammation from cuts. Crush the leaves and apply them to the wound.”

Though her tone was blunt, Sylvia rattled off several more pieces of herbal knowledge along with their warnings. When Akio, surprised, thanked her, she turned away with a huff.

“I didn’t do it for you. I simply can’t stand ignorant humans ruining the forest’s bounty.”

But Akio didn’t miss the faint blush at the tips of her pointed ears.

Another day, a different encounter occurred. Miko and Yume were picking flowers near the forest’s edge, not far from the cabin. As Miko lifted her gaze, she spotted Sylvia standing quietly in the shade of the trees.

“Ah! It’s the forest lady!”

Yume, following Miko’s lead, also noticed her. Together, they waved enthusiastically, calling out with innocent cheer, “Big Sister!” as they started to run toward her.

At that moment, Sylvia’s expression froze. The pure, unwavering affection and calls from the children clearly unsettled her. Her eyes betrayed confusion and hesitation. And then, as if she had never been there at all, she vanished without a trace.

“Ah… she’s gone…”

The two girls stood still, crestfallen, their shoulders drooping.

That evening, Akio listened to the children’s account and reflected on Sylvia’s complicated feelings. Her mistrust of humans ran deep. Yet, she had quietly accepted the small gifts left for her, and little by little, she had begun sharing her herbal knowledge. And most of all, her visibly shaken reaction to the children’s innocent affection—it hinted that something within her was beginning to change.

“Sylvia-san will play with you someday… I’m sure of it,” Akio said with a gentle smile.

Miko and Yume beamed in response, their faces lighting up with hope.

Just like the warm spring sun gradually melts the thickest ice, perhaps one day, warmth would find its way into Sylvia’s guarded heart. Holding onto that belief, Akio vowed once again to nurture both the vegetable patch and the fragile but steadily growing bond with Sylvia with all the care he could muster.

What do you think about this chapter?