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​ I don't like Mentor.

​ Indecisive, cowardly, weak, pathetic. I hate all that about Mentor.

​ [You shouldn't say stuff like that.]

​ Ignoring the voice saying that in the back of my mind, I swung my sword as I did every day. I feel like I can forget everything and anything whenever I do this.

​ “Man, you're working hard huh, Asaka.”

​ Even so, as soon as I heard that annoying voice, my chest felt weird.

​ “Not really. I'm a Swordsaint, this is normal.”

​ Not bothering to look back at him, I gave him a curt response.

​ “Even so, there's no driving reason for you do be this hard working, right?”

​ I didn't answer his gentle words.

​ “Hey, Asaka.”

​ Mentor didn't seem to mind me ignoring him at all as he continued talking to me.

​ “I've been thinking about going to see my wife. Would you like to come with me?”

​ No.

​ “Sure.”

​ Even though that's what I thought, my mouth answered on its own.

​ “Thank you.”

​ Mentor smiled, almost like he knew I was going to answer like that.

​ There were two stones next to each other in the place we went to.

​ Standing between them, Mentor put his hands together. I watched on in silence.

​ Because… they were just rocks. No one was here.

​ Even if you put your hands together, even if you keep them clean, it won't make anyone happy.

​ [Eh? I'm happy though?]

​ I heard a voice in my mind just as I thought that, causing me to grab onto his clothes.

​ “What's wrong?”

​ “Nothing.”

​ Ignoring Mentor as he tilted his head, I cleaned the tombstones.

​ I say that, but it would've been clean and s.h.i.+ny even without me doing so.

​ Be it windy days or rainy days, the dragon next to me would use his free time to keep them clean.

​ “Thank you, Asaka.”

​ “… I didn't do anything.”

​ Feeling frustrated for some reason, I carefully cleaned the tombstone in front of me. When I stole a glance at Mentor, I saw him smiling softly as he worked to polish big sis Ai's tombstone next to me.

​ “… Mentor.”

​ “Hm?”

​ Again, even though I didn't intend to say anything, my mouth spoke on its own. It shouldn't have been at a volume that someone could hear, but this sharp-eared dragon heard me as if I'd spoken right into his ear.

​ “… It's fine. She pa.s.sed away, in the end.”

​ “Hmm. Well, I wouldn't say it's fine.”

​ When he heard me reluctantly say that, his face took on a complicated expression, like a mix between troubled and loving.

​ “I'm sad, sure… but well, I don't regret it.”

​ “… Mm.”

​ Only giving a vague response, I sighed. I don't know how I felt… Angry? Sad? Or maybe something else? Even I didn't understand it.

​ “Besides, I just… well, I get the feeling that she's still here by my side.”

​ “You believe in her promise?”

​ When I said that, Mentor looked a bit surprised.

​ “You know about it?”

​ “… I heard it from her.”

​ “Oh. You and Yuuki were good friends, after all.”

​ I nodded. Aunt Yuuki was my great aunt, grandpa Amata's daughter. We used to play a lot when I was young and I used to love listening to her tell me stories back then.

​ The elf, calm and dependable like a mother.

​ The lykoscentaur, gentle yet scary when angry like an older sister.

​ The lizardman, mischievous like a younger brother and the merfolk, energetic like a younger sister.

​ And her beloved dragon.

​ Aunt Yuuki would tell me her stories of love and adventure through life, she was so good at it that I felt like I was there experiencing it myself.

​ At some point, she got so good that I could even experience the colors, sounds, and flavors of it all.

​ “I heard all of it. Including all of your failings and downsides, all of it.”

​ “Haha, that's a bit scary.”

​ Probably thinking I was over exaggerating, Mentor smiled. I wasn't kidding, though.

​ I have all of aunt Yuuki's memories in my head. Even including everything she didn't tell me, all of it. I'm sure it's the final magic she'd left behind.

​ —Which is why.

​ Every time I see Mentor's smile, my chest tightens in pain. Each time he talks to me, my heart throbs helplessly. Hers probably did, too.

​ I hate Mentor. Yeah, that's what I tell myself.

​ “… She truly loved you, Mentor.”

​ “Yeah. I know.”

​ Seeing Mentor nod as he always did, my heart thumped yet again. I can't stand it. I don't have the resolve she did.

​ But I knew that, of course. She'd said it was like that for her at first, too. How she tried to stay away, to avoid him.

​ —As well as how she wasn't be able to not love him.

​ I'm sure there exists a story that is mine alone.

​ It might intersect with hers, it might follow an entirely separate path.

​ But right now, I hate Mentor for this pain.

​ Even while understanding that it's probably a vain resistance.

​ [I'm sorry.]

​ It was faint, but I heard a voice in my mind. It was just an illusion I made.

​ She died five years ago, after all.

​ [Thank you.]

​ It was just my imagination figuring she'd say that.

​ … But I'm sure I would tell the story.

​ To my own children, to my grandchildren, to my nieces, to my nephews. I would definitely tell them.

​ And they would do the same.

​ Because it was a very, very important promise.

​ She promised that she would stay by his side forever.

​ The story of a girl who lived a short life.

​ Of the memories buried within my chest.

​ Of the Swordsaint Existence Chronicle.