The afternoon passed quickly, and Matsurize still hadn't woken up. Ayane kept herself busy in the kitchen, though not for Matsurize, since he could only consume thin porridge for now. There wasn't much to prepare for him.
Instead, Ayane was cooking for herself. No matter how much she cared for Matsurize, she couldn't let herself go hungry.
One of Ayane's greatest joys in life was cooking. If not for the necessity of her circumstances, she wouldn't have chosen to be a blacksmith. Deep down, she longed to be a chef.
Cooking was the highlight of her day, and she took great pride in it. Even though she lived alone, Ayane always prepared her meals with care and precision.
For dinner, Ayane kept things simple—rice porridge, accompanied by two small but carefully crafted side dishes. She set everything on plates and carried them to the dining room, which also served as her living room.
Although she lived by herself, Ayane never took shortcuts when it came to meals. She could have easily eaten in the kitchen to save time, but she believed that setting the table properly in the dining room was a way to respect the effort she had put into preparing the food.
Though Ayane ate quickly, her movements were graceful. She wasn't in a rush; she simply had a habit of eating efficiently. Each bite was taken with quiet contentment.
After finishing her meal, Ayane cleared the dishes and left them in the kitchen. She didn't wash them immediately, knowing that she would soon need to feed Matsurize.
By now, she had become accustomed to feeding him and no longer felt awkward about it. In fact, she had grown comfortable with the process.
For Matsurize's dinner, she prepared the same thin porridge. It didn't take long to feed it to him, and Ayane felt a sense of calm as she did so.
She realized something about herself had changed. Even though Matsurize was still unconscious, she no longer felt as isolated as before.
Ayane was now caring for a stranger, and though he was unaware, she was fully conscious of the shift in her own emotions. She didn't resist this change because no one had ever told her how she was supposed to act in such situations.
As night fell, Ayane prepared for bed. She never stayed in the east room—her parents' room—because it was a source of too much emotional pain. It wasn't something she could handle alone just yet.
Instead, she spread a blanket on the floor of her room, the same room where Matsurize now lay in bed. She removed her outer clothing, leaving only her soft, cream-colored undergarments, and slipped into her blanket to sleep on the floor.
That night, Ayane slept soundly. Caring for Matsurize throughout the day had stirred emotions in her that had long been dormant.
Matsurize, lying in the bed, slept deeply as well. Before Ayane had gone to bed, she had checked his temperature. The fever had broken, thanks to her diligent care.
Matsurize's wounds were also healing quickly. Throughout the day, Ayane had changed his bandages several times, and now his injuries were starting to scab over. No longer would his bandages be stained with fresh blood.
Though his body had appeared frail and undernourished when he arrived, it was clear that the foundation of Matsurize's physique was strong. His body was gifted, and though it had suffered, it was healing rapidly.
By the time midnight had passed and the early hours of morning arrived, the house was quiet. Ayane was still peacefully asleep on the floor, unaware that Matsurize had woken up.
But something was off. Matsurize's eyes were open, but his gaze was vacant. He didn't move or get out of bed; instead, his eyes fluttered open and closed repeatedly as if he couldn't fully grasp his surroundings. He stayed like that for a long time.
Eventually, he fell back into a deep sleep.
In the early hours of the morning, around five o'clock, Ayane quietly got up. She glanced at Matsurize and saw that he had drifted back into sleep, completely unaware that he had briefly been awake during the night.
Ayane didn't notice either. She went about her morning routine, folding up the bedding on the floor and leaving the room.
After a quick drink of water from the kitchen, Ayane headed straight to her blacksmith workshop.
The forge was large, equipped with all the tools needed for crafting and repairing. However, Ayane hadn't come to work this early in the morning.
She walked to a corner of the workshop, where a small table sat. On the table was a wooden stand, and resting on it was a katana, about seventy centimeters long.
Ayane picked up the blade and slid it into the belt at her waist before stepping out into the courtyard.
With a slight bend of her knees and her hands resting on the sword, Ayane faced the dimly lit sky and began practicing her sword draw, over and over, in slow, deliberate movements.
She was completely focused, blocking out everything else around her as she trained in the art of the sword.
Ayane had only started practicing swordsmanship in recent years. The reason she frequently traveled between her village and Sunken Ship Harbor was to learn swordsmanship at a dojo there.
Sunken Ship Harbor was the only good port in the area. It had earned its name from the many shipwrecks that had accumulated there in the past. Over time, the harbor had developed into a bustling place, with a nearby town that housed nearly ten thousand people at its peak, though most of that population was transient.
The town had grown alongside the harbor and was commonly referred to as Sunken Ship Harbor, despite its official name being Sunken Ship Town.
The dojo in Sunken Ship Harbor was where Ayane had learned swordsmanship. Initially, she had only begun training to better understand the quality of the katanas she was forging.
Ayane's family had a history of crafting swords, and one of her ancestors had been a renowned swordsmith, specializing in forging katanas. Following the techniques recorded in her family's ancient texts, Ayane had taught herself to make swords. A few years ago, she had sold her first katana in Sunken Ship Harbor, earning twenty thousand Beli from the sale. This success had distanced her from the simpler farming tools she repaired for the villagers.
Her swordsmanship training at the dojo was a means to better understand the weapons she crafted, but after three years of practice, Ayane had found that she loved swordsmanship just as much as she loved cooking.
As she practiced, her focus was complete. She was unaware that someone had been watching her from the shadows for quite some time.