Regardless, all the hardship and pain were in the past. As time flowed on, Sū ěr found himself reminiscing about those days with increasing fondness, until the memories seemed gilded in his mind, shining brilliantly.
He wanted to recreate the past, to bring back that carefree beauty, living with the person important to him, seeing them every day—yes, the person important to him.
Sū ěr suddenly realized that Jibril had somehow been categorized as an "important person" in his subconscious... surprising, yet not entirely unexpected.
He didn't resist the thought.
Think, however, remained hung up on it. Fortunately, she hadn't taken any extreme actions so far.
—Do extreme words count as actions?
Even amidst her incessant chatter, Sū ěr couldn't help but drift off. He realized he was becoming more and more accustomed to Think.
That was a good thing.
Uh... he just had to make sure she never found out he was secretly describing her as "chattering."
By now, Sū ěr shift at McDanald's had ended. He and Think were at the hill behind the shrine, the place where they first set foot in this era. Compared to the clamor of the city, this forest-surrounded spot felt secluded and tranquil, as if cut off from the world.
Though Sū ěr felt it would be even better if he weren't currently being scolded.
"I really don't understand what goes on in that head of yours. In that prehistoric era, you were so bored you couldn't wait to sleep your way into the modern age. You spent every day worrying whether humans could develop their own scientific civilization under the interference of Yōkai and gods. Well, open your eyes and take a good look now!" Since there was no one around, Think had manifested her form and was venting her fury.
She gestured toward the distant, brightly lit city. Since the Great War ended, Sū ěr hadn't seen her this angry in a long time.
"...Yes, they developed it. But didn't we go see the universe together? The stars, the moon, and the sun out there are completely different from that prehistoric era inside the 'box,' aren't they?" Sū ěr voice wasn't loud. "If the fact that I played a role is what caused the world to evolve into what it is now, then doesn't that mean I must go back?"
Even though she didn't need to breathe, Think translucent chest heaved with indignation. Naturally, she could think of everything Sū ěr could, but being able to understand didn't mean she was willing to accept it.
"And it has nothing to do with that Flügel?" Think sneered, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
"It does." Leaving no room for lies, Sū ěr spoke candidly. "Yes, just as you said. I don't want to go back either, but if I truly need to do something in the past to secure the life we have now, then I'd rather call it an investment."
"Just think of it as protecting this beautiful future... alright?" Turning to face Think, Sū ěr held out his hand, palm up. "Don't worry. If we're lucky, we might be back very soon."
"You are so foolish," Think said, letting out a long breath.
"I've always been foolish... didn't you know that already?" Sū ěr shrugged, unbothered by the critique that wasn't even particularly sharp.
"To have already reached the destination, yet to insist on searching for the path back. You are so foolish."
Think repeated herself, but this time Sū ěr said nothing. He simply lifted his extended hand slightly in a silent gesture.
Slap!
"I will not forgive that pink-head," Think said coldly. She smacked Sū ěr palm hard, then turned away.
"Whatever you say. Call her a 'bird-man' if you like... I don't mind." Ignoring the stinging pain in his palm, Sū ěr watched Think slender silhouette and grinned. "So, we're in agreement for now?"
"...I just happen to miss the Zashiki-warashi [A protective household spirit from Japanese folklore], that's all."
Giving an ambiguous answer, Think raised her arms. One by one, traces of magical formulae began to spread—from the exposed rocks to the soil, then to the fallen leaves. They brushed over every blade of grass, eventually aligning in a single direction to form a perfect circle.
The center of this circle was the Goshimboku [A sacred tree in a Shinto shrine]. Its function was simple: in a world that seemed to be in a deep slumber, with thinning spiritual energy, it served to gather what remained. Incidentally, a similar formula existed by the well, though its power was much smaller.
This tree was special.
Its uniqueness didn't just lie in its immense age or the thickness of its trunk, but rather in a certain... aura, a distinct and mysterious symbolic significance.
As for the well, aside from the bones of various sizes, it possessed no other special traits. The only thing that piqued Sū ěr interest was when he dug deeper over the last couple of days; he had seen the Goshimboku's intricate root system. Those roots didn't spread out in a normal radial pattern; instead, they were abnormally tangled directly beneath the well, clustered together like a bridge covered in soil—something that had never been discovered before.
Even stranger was how the rootlets weirdly intertwined into a vertical column, as if they were a well themselves—a solid well made of wood.
Regardless of whether it would eventually produce an effect, these formulae were merely another attempt. Adding another tally to his records of failed experiments over the past few days, Sū ěr remained convinced that this place was an anomaly. He refused to believe that the place he appeared after crossing that galaxy was a mere coincidence.
Firm in this belief, Sū ěr had not only experimented himself but had also dodged the family living at the shrine to examine the ancient texts kept in the main hall. They seemed to be records passed down through generations. Yet, even so, Sū ěr hadn't found anything unusual in the logs; he could only continue his clumsy trials.
"If the spiritual density keeps rising like this, will this tree gain a spirit? Like a Zashiki-warashi?" Sū ěr asked suddenly, watching the specks of blue light seep into the trunk.
"Don't harbor such absurd expectations. I don't think this attempt will do anything," Think continued to pour cold water on his hopes. "If there truly is a secret here—assuming a special energy exists—logic dictates that our journey from the distant past to the present should have exhausted it. And that kind of energy is certainly not something that common spiritual energy can simply replenish."