Mel woke up at five in the morning, as she always did, ready to prepare breakfast and clean the house.
But something was wrong.
The front door was open.
She stopped in her tracks, staring at the entrance for a moment before hurrying toward her master's room.
"Master?"
There was no answer.
She knocked once before opening the door, only to find the bed empty.
The blanket was a mess, and the room was quieter than it should have been.
Her heart sank.
She immediately rushed outside, looking around the farm.
"Master?"
Nothing.
She checked the fields, the path leading toward town, and even the areas around the house where he sometimes sat when he wanted to be alone.
But there was no sign of him.
She should have known.
Whenever her master was troubled, he had a tendency to run away.
When they were children, he would often run off to the city center. Sometimes, he would return on his own after a few hours. Other times, she would have to search for him, only to find him somewhere he had no business being.
And when she finally found him, he would always have some excuse ready.
I was just looking around.
I wanted to buy something.
I got lost.
As though she couldn't tell when he was lying.
Even just years ago, they had left for the villa, escaping the manor.
And now, he had done it again in these unfamiliar lands.
Her master often did this.
But this time was different.
Back then, she knew where to look. She knew the city, the places he frequented, and the people he might have spoken to.
Here, she barely knew the town, much less where her master might go when he wanted to be alone.
She clenched her hands.
What should I do?
Her first thought was to search the road leading to Pelican Town. But what if he had gone somewhere else? What if he had wandered farther than she expected?
She blamed herself for not staying by his side last night.
She remembered how he had looked—lost and exhausted. Even during dinner, he had seemed distant, as though his mind were somewhere else entirely.
She had wanted to ask him what was wrong.
But he had looked so tired that she decided to let him rest.
I should have stayed.
She bit her lip, trying to suppress the growing anxiety in her chest.
Master, where are you?
The first light of dawn gradually spread across the sky, chasing away the darkness.
Yet, despite the brightening sky, the farm seemed strangely empty.
And Mel continued to search.
By the time I returned to the farm, the sky had already begun to brighten.
My legs were sore, my body ached, and I just to lay on a soft bed.
Who knew running could be this exhausting?
Well, technically, running wasn't the problem. I just hadn't expected to get hurt during it.
Still, I had to admit that the cold morning air had helped clear my head.
And that was enough for now.
I approached the farm, already thinking about how I would explain my little excursion to Mel.
Perhaps I could say I went for a walk?
No, that sounded stupid.
An early morning jog, then?
That was even worse.
I sighed.
Whatever. I'd think of something.
And then I saw her.
Mel stood near the farm, looking around with tearful eyes. She seemed to be searching for something—or someone.
"Master!"
Before I could even open my mouth, she ran toward me.
"Mel—"
She threw her arms around me and began to cry.
I froze.
Then, feeling her trembling against me, I slowly raised my arms and patted her back.
"I'm here. I'm here."
She didn't answer. She only clung to me, her tears soaking my clothes.
I wanted to say something reassuring, but the words refused to come.
So I simply stood there, letting her cry.
My legs were practically screaming at me, and I had to suppress a gasp when she tightened her embrace. But I couldn't bring myself to complain.
Not when she was crying like this.
After a while, she finally pulled away.
Her eyes were red, and she quickly wiped her face before looking me over.
"Master, where have you been?"
"Well, you see—"
"Where?"
"...I went for a walk?"
Her expression darkened.
Ah. So that didn't work.
Then came the scolding.
I obediently squatted down, keeping my mouth shut as she gave me an earful.
Honestly, I deserved it.
She questioned me about the time, the weather, my condition, and whether I had even thought about telling her where I was going.
I tried to answer a few times, but every attempt only seemed to make things worse.
Eventually, I gave up and let her continue.
There were times when silence really was the best option.
But just as I thought her sermon was finally coming to an end, she noticed my right knee.
It was bloodied.
"Master!"
Her expression changed immediately.
Before I could reassure her, she took hold of my arm and hurriedly led me back inside.
Soon, I was sitting still while Mel tended to my injuries.
She had brought out the first-aid supplies and was cleaning the wound on my knee. Her movements were careful, but her expression remained tense.
Every now and then, a tear would slip down her cheek.
"I'm sorry," I said.
She didn't respond.
"I'm really sorry, Mel."
Still nothing.
I scratched my cheek awkwardly.
"Look, I'm fine, see? Just a few scratches. Nothing serious."
She stopped what she was doing.
Then she looked up at me.
"HOW COULD YOU BE FINE?! WHAT TIME IS IT, HUH?! DO YOU KNOW HOW WORRIED I WAS?! YOU'RE A MESS, AND YOU STILL TELL ME YOU'RE FINE!"
I flinched.
There it is.
Seeing her cry like that, I couldn't help but laugh.
"Hahaha!"
"WHAT'S SO FUNNY?!"
"Haha, I just remembered something. When we were kids, you used to cry a lot."
"AND YOU USED TO GET HURT A LOT!"
"HAHAHAHA! Seems like nothing has changed!"
She glared at him, but as she watched him laugh so genuinely, her expression gradually softened.
It seemed that, at least in some ways, her master really was fine.
He was still laughing at the same silly things, still teasing her despite knowing full well that he was in trouble.
"Ehhh? Is that a smile? It's been so long since I've seen you smile!"
Her smile immediately disappeared.
And so, another sermon began.
Honestly, he should've known better than to speak.
After things had finally calmed down, we sat beside each other.
The first-aid supplies had been put away, and my knee was finally bandaged. It still hurt, but at least I could walk without feeling as though my leg would give out beneath me.
Mel sat quietly beside me, her hands resting on her lap.
She had barely spoken since finishing her work.
That was more worrying than the scolding.
"Master, did something—"
"Yes."
I cut her off before she could finish.
She turned toward me.
"But it's fine. Truly. I was just being dumb, that's all. I suppose the pain finally knocked some sense into me."
She stared at me, clearly unconvinced by my attempt at a joke.
I couldn't blame her.
Even I wouldn't believe myself.
I looked down at my bandaged knee.
"...I can't tell you what happened. Not yet."
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
I could feel her gaze on me, waiting for me to say more.
But what could I tell her?
That I was questioning the reason I had come here? That I was afraid my second chance might have come at someone else's expense? That I didn't know what I was supposed to do with the life I'd been given?
I didn't even know how to explain those thoughts to myself.
How could I explain them to her?
I lowered my gaze for a moment before looking back at her.
"But I'll be fine. I promise."
Then, I raised my little finger toward her.
Mel froze.
For a moment, she didn't move at all.
Her eyes settled on my outstretched hand, and her expression slowly changed.
Then, as though the sight had brought back a distant memory, her eyes began to well up again.
We were still children back then.
I couldn't even remember what had upset me that day. Whatever it was, I'd run off again, leaving Mel to search for me.
When she finally found me, she was crying.
"Master, why do you always run away?"
I remembered how I'd torn my clothes, my body dirtied, not knowing what to say. I hadn't meant to make her cry. I just didn't want to talk about whatever was bothering me.
"Sorry, Mel."
She sniffled, wiping her face with her sleeve.
"You always say sorry, but you keep doing it!"
What could I say to that?
So, I offered her my pinky.
"Then I'll promise you something."
She looked at my hand suspiciously.
"Promise?"
"That I'll always return."
She hesitated before hooking her little finger around mine.
"Don't break it."
"Don't break it," she whispered.
I smiled faintly.
"Yeah. One day, I'll be able to tell you everything."
This time, I was the one who pulled her into a hug.
"I'm here, Mel. I'm still here."