Memory (2)

The next day, Sol returned to the clearing, his sword in hand and his mind sharp. The encounter with Lily had left him unsettled, though he couldn't quite pinpoint why. He swung his blade through the air, the sharp whistle of steel cutting through the forest's silence. The rhythm of his movements usually brought him clarity, but today, his thoughts kept drifting back to the little girl—her wide, innocent eyes, her relentless chatter, and the way she had called him "Big Brother."

*She looked just like him.*

The image of a boy with white hair, just like his, flickered in his mind. But it vanished as quickly as it came. Sol shook his head, pushing the distraction aside. He had no time for memories.

He had just begun his training when he heard the faint rustle of leaves. Without turning, he knew who it was.

"Big Brother Sol!"

Lily's voice was bright and cheerful, cutting through the stillness like a ray of sunlight. Sol didn't respond, but his grip on his sword tightened slightly. He continued his movements, his blade slicing through the air with precision, as if ignoring her would make her go away.

But Lily was undeterred. She skipped into the clearing, her chestnut curls bouncing with every step. In her hands, she carried a small pouch, which she held out to him with a proud smile. "I brought you something! It's from Mama's garden. She doesn't know I took it, though, so don't tell her!"

Sol stopped mid-swing and turned to face her, his expression as impassive as ever. "You shouldn't be here."

Lily pouted, her lower lip jutting out in that stubborn way of hers. "But I promised I'd come back one more time! And I brought you a gift!"

Sol's black eyes flicked to the pouch in her hands, then back to her face. "I don't need gifts."

Lily's pout deepened, and she stomped her foot. "You're so grumpy, Sol! Why can't you just take the gift and say thank you?"

Sol didn't respond. He simply stood there, his aura of quiet intensity making the air around them feel heavier. Most people would have flinched under his gaze, but Lily, as always, seemed immune. She stepped closer, holding the pouch out to him insistently.

"Here," she said, her voice softening. "It's for you. Because you're my hero."

"Hero?" Sol raised an eyebrow. For the first time in a long while, he found something amusing. A faint, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his lips. *A hero, huh?* He wondered how many people in this world would call him that.

The answer was clear.

*None.*

Sol brushed a strand of white hair from his face. "I'm not a hero."

"Yes, you are!" Lily insisted, holding out the pouch. "You saved me, and that's what heroes do. Now take it!"

"..."

Sol hesitated, his cold exterior wavering for the briefest moment. Then, with a barely audible sigh, he reached out and took the pouch. *It's useless to argue with a kid,* he thought.

As he opened it, the earthy scent of dried herbs filled the air. They were useful—something he could actually use—but he didn't say so. Instead, he simply nodded.

Lily's face lit up, and she clapped her hands together. "Now, can I stay and watch you train? I'll be quiet this time, I promise!"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because you're distracting."

Lily tilted her head, her eyes wide and innocent. "But I'll be quiet! I promise!"

Sol sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You shouldn't be here. Your mother told you not to come."

Lily's pout deepened, and she crossed her arms over her chest. "Mama doesn't understand. You're not scary, Sol. You're nice!"

Sol's expression didn't change, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—annoyance, perhaps, or maybe something softer. "I'm not nice," he said bluntly. "And you shouldn't sneak out. Go home."

Lily stomped her foot, her cheeks puffing out in frustration. "No! I don't want to! It's boring at home, and I like it here with you!"

Sol's patience was wearing thin. He wasn't used to dealing with children, let alone one as persistent as Lily. "You're interrupting my practice," he said, his tone sharper than before. "Go home."

Lily's eyes welled up with tears, and she looked down at her feet. "But… but I just wanted to see you…"

For a moment, Sol felt a pang of guilt. He wasn't used to seeing her so dejected. But he quickly pushed the feeling aside. "You can't keep coming here," he said firmly. "It's not safe."

Lily sniffled, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "You're here, so it's safe."

Sol didn't respond. He simply stood there, his arms crossed, waiting for her to leave. But Lily, stubborn as ever, didn't budge. Instead, she sat down on a nearby rock, her small legs swinging back and forth.

"I'll just sit here and be quiet," she said, her voice still trembling but determined. "I won't bother you, I promise."

Sol stared at her for a long moment, then let out a resigned sigh. He knew there was no winning with her. "Fine," he said, turning back to his training. "But don't talk."

Lily's face lit up, and she nodded eagerly. "Okay!"

Sol resumed his practice, his movements precise and fluid. But even as he focused on his sword forms, he could feel Lily's eyes on him, watching with rapt attention. Every now and then, she would let out a small gasp or a quiet "wow," but she kept her promise and didn't say a word.

Despite himself, Sol found her presence… tolerable. Annoying, yes, but there was something oddly comforting about having her there. It was a strange feeling, one he hadn't experienced in a long time.

When he finally finished his training, he turned to see Lily still sitting on the rock, her chin resting in her hands. She looked up at him with a bright smile.

"You're amazing, Sol!" she said, her earlier sadness forgotten. "I've never seen anyone move like that!"

Sol sheathed his sword, his expression as stoic as ever.

Lily hopped off the rock and ran over to him, her eyes shining with admiration. "Can you teach me how to use a sword?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because you're a child."

Lily pouted again, her hands on her hips. "I'm not a child! I'm seven years old!"

Sol almost smirked at that—almost. "Seven is still a child."

Lily huffed, clearly frustrated. "I am not a child!"

Sol didn't respond. He simply picked up the small bundle she had brought him earlier and handed it back to her. "Take this and go home. And don't come back."

Lily's face fell, and she looked down at the pouch in her hands. "But… I wanted you to have it."

Sol hesitated, then sighed. "Fine. I'll take it. But you need to go home. Now."

Lily's eyes lit up again, and she nodded. "Okay! But… can I come back tomorrow?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

Lily's lower lip trembled, and she looked up at him with those big, pleading eyes. "Just one more time? I'll bring you another treat!"

Sol stared at her for a long moment, then finally relented. "One more time. But after that, you stay home. Understand?"

Lily nodded eagerly, her smile returning. "Okay! See you tomorrow, Sol!"

Before he could say anything else, she turned and ran off, her laughter echoing through the trees. Sol watched her go, a strange mix of annoyance and something else—something he couldn't quite name—settling in his chest.

As he turned back to the forest, he couldn't help but wonder if he had made a mistake. Letting her come back, even just once more, felt like opening a door he had long since closed. But for now, he pushed the thought aside and walked deeper into the trees, the pouch still in his hand.

The forest was quiet once more, but the silence felt different now. It was as if Lily's presence had left a mark, a small crack in the walls Sol had built around himself. And though he wouldn't admit it, part of him was already looking forward to seeing her the next day.