Young Leaves, Inner Struggles, and Gazes Toward the Future
As the summer sun grew more intense and the forest greenery deepened in hue, peaceful days continued to unfold around Akio’s cabin. Yet amidst that calm rhythm of daily life, the older children—Ayane and Alto—each began to wrestle with budding emotions and inner complexities.
Ayane, now fourteen, diligently managed household chores and looked after her younger siblings, becoming someone Akio and Sylvia could always rely on. However, whenever she saw Sylvia naturally at Akio’s side, the two of them bound by a deep trust and affection, a faint, indescribable feeling would stir in Ayane’s heart—bittersweet, tinged with a soft ache. It wasn’t jealousy; rather, it was a mix of sincere well-wishing for their happiness, and a girl’s hazy yearning and uncertainty: Would I ever become that important to someone, someday?
(I also want to be more helpful to Akio-san and Sylvia-san. I want to become a strong woman, one who can support this family…)
With growing admiration for Sylvia’s knowledge of medicinal herbs and survival skills, Ayane had begun to earnestly wish to study them in earnest.
Alto, twelve, had been helping with Akio’s woodworking and learning to navigate the forest under Sylvia’s guidance, becoming sturdier by the day. But even so, he couldn’t help but feel frustrated by his own lack of strength. Watching Akio handle heavy logs with ease, or Sylvia sensing beasts in the distance in an instant, he found himself longing to be seen as a capable man—someone who could protect his family.
(I need to be stronger, smarter… Like Akio-san, like Sylvia-san. I want to be someone everyone can depend on…)
Resolved, he made up his mind to ask Akio to teach him more advanced trap-making and the basics of woodworking repairs from the ground up.
One day, one of the large water-carrying barrels in the cabin developed a leak, the bottom board cracked and unable to hold water. Akio had planned to make a new one, but he was too caught up in improving the bread oven.
“Akio-san looks super busy… Do you think we could fix the barrel ourselves?” Alto asked Ayane in a quiet voice.
She, too, had begun to feel the desire to accomplish something on her own rather than always relying on the adults.
“You’re right… It’d be fun to surprise Akio-san and Sylvia-san. Let’s give it a try!”
And so the two of them decided to attempt making a new barrel, without telling the adults. It was their first time working together alone, and the beginning of a small but meaningful adventure.
Alto recalled the way Akio had made barrels in the past. Carefully selecting the wood, he began cutting the pieces with a saw, attempting to bend the staves using tools Akio had made. Meanwhile, Ayane tried to recall what might help with waterproofing—perhaps the clay Sylvia used for herb mixing, or the sticky resin harvested from trees—and began testing various ideas.
The work was far harder than expected. The angles didn’t line up, the bottom wouldn’t fit, the waterproofing leaked. They failed again and again, sometimes nearing arguments out of frustration.
“This is hopeless, Ayane Neechan. I can’t do it…” Alto finally muttered, discouraged.
“Don’t give up, Alto. Akio-san didn’t get everything right on his first try either. Let’s think again—where did we go wrong?” Ayane gently encouraged him.
They continued working in secret late into the night, helping and encouraging each other through the setbacks.
After several days, they finally completed a barrel. Compared to Akio’s, it was crude in shape and the surface was far from smooth, but it held water without leaking. That alone made it a solid, functional barrel.
With a mix of pride and bashfulness, they brought it before Akio and Sylvia.
“Akio-san, Sylvia-san! We made this together—just the two of us!”
The adults widened their eyes in surprise for a moment, then quickly understood everything and turned warm gazes toward the children.
Akio picked up the barrel, inspecting every detail, then beamed.
“This is amazing, Ayane, Alto. For your first try, this is way better than I expected. If you two keep this up, you’ll be able to do just about anything.”
Sylvia also ran her fingers along the joints and waterproof seams and remarked,
“Hmm. Not bad. Especially this plank fitting—you clearly thought it through. You even accounted for how water would flow.”
Her tone was as curt as always, but unmistakably full of praise.
That feeling of We did this with our own hands—and more than that, the joy of being recognized by the adults they looked up to—filled Ayane and Alto with a deep sense of accomplishment. It was a sign of their growth, more valuable than any words of praise.
This small success sparked a stronger resolve in both of them to work harder toward their individual goals. That very day, Ayane approached Sylvia and began formally studying herbs and forest plants. Alto, too, with renewed passion, threw himself into learning advanced trap designs and more complex woodworking under Akio’s tutelage.
Their gazes were now firmly fixed on the future, as clear and unclouded as the late summer sky. And Akio and Sylvia continued to watch over their promising growth—not always gently, but always with deep love.
The bountiful season of autumn was just around the corner.
What do you think about this chapter?
