The graduation trial was set to take place beyond the village borders, rain or shine, whether Paulo liked it or not. When Yumi delivered the news, Paulo responded with a faint, reluctant groan.
"Outside? Why can't we just do it here?" he shot back, voice edged with protest.
Yumi caught the flicker of fear masked by irritation on his face and stood firm. "It has to be outside the village, Paulo. Not up for debate. The horses are already saddled, waiting, this moment's been prepared for."
It can't be done? I am completely lost.
Paulo feels it deep in her chest, the truth she can't ignore. She has to step beyond the gate. How can anyone live as a hikikomori in a world like this?
Yet her body rebels, frozen by memory. That moment still burns too bright, the day everything changed. Middle school. The incident. The moment she had no choice but to vanish behind closed doors.
"What's going on?" Yumi asks, catching Paulo flinching, whispering about magic beasts.
"In this area? You won't even see one unless you head deep into the woods, and if we do? They're weak. I can handle them, heck, you could too." Yumi explains, exasperated. Her brow furrows as Paulo keeps dodging, inventing excuse after excuse.
But how can Paulo admit it? That she's terrified of stepping outside? Fear like this, deeper than embarrassment, heavier than shame. It's worse than being scared of horses. Paulo still has pride. Just a sliver, maybe, but it's there.
She won't let this girl see her break so Yumi had muttered, "Guess there's no helping it. Here."
Seeing Paulo rooted in place, Yumi acts fast, hoists her onto her shoulders without warning Paulo doesn't fight. Her resolve trembles.
"Just sit tight, and the fear will fade." she had muttered, telling Paulo it will be fine.
Maybe… maybe it's okay to let go. To trust Yumi with this.
Then, thud. She's tossed onto a horse's back. Yumi swings up behind her, grabs the reins. The horse starts forward, steady and sure. And just like that, without ceremony or farewell, they ride, leaving the house, the silence, the isolation, behind.
This is Paulo's debut beyond the courtyard since arriving in this strange new world.
Yumi glides cautiously through the village, every step pulling them deeper into the unknown. Eyes lock onto them, curious, bold, unfiltered, as villagers fix their stares, raw and uninvited, turning the journey into a silent spectacle.
No way. I am still afraid of being looked at. Especially those mocking and unrestrained gazes. Surely they wouldn't court trouble with us with mocking words. They probably wouldn't. They don't recognize me.
Her muscles coiled tight, fear surging through her veins. In this vast world, only those inside that tiny house truly knew her, and that knowledge made her pulse race. Paulo stood alone; in the entire village, not a single soul beyond those walls was his to trust.
Why are you looking at me. Stop looking, go back to work. No.
It's not Paulo they're focused on, it's Yumi. Heads turn her way, hands lift in greeting. She's already carved her place here, right in the heart of this village.
And that's no small feat, especially in a country where demon-blooded races face harsh prejudice, and especially in these backwoods, where suspicion runs deep and cold. Yet in just two short years, she's become someone everyone acknowledges, someone people willingly smile at.
When Paulo sees it, something tightens in her chest, not fear, but awe. Yumi's back is steady, unwavering, like a compass that always knows north. She belongs here. They know her. And she knows them.
If anyone dares throw a sharp word Paulo's way? Yumi won't hesitate. She'll step in, fierce and fast. Just knowing that, Paulo feels the weight slip from her shoulders, breath coming easier.
"Kalajav's in a great mood. It loved having you ride it." Yumi says, her voice bright, her smile radiant.
Kalajav is the horse's name and of course, I can't read a horse's mood.
"Is that right? Had no clue that was his name," Paulo said with effortless cool, tipping backward, only to accidentally knock the back of his head into Yumi's chest, a surprise collision caused by over-leaning and zero intention.
How comfortable. What exactly am I afraid of. This is such a peaceful village. Who will bully me?
"Still scared?" she asks.
Paulo shakes her head, no trace of fear left in her eyes. The weight that once pressed on her chest has lifted. She's free from the suffocating grip of strangers' stares.
"No, I'm really okay now" Paulo says, voice steady,
"Told you," comes the reply, and with it, a quiet warmth spreads through Paulo's chest.
Her vision clears, the world rushing in, wide-open fields, scattered homes twinkling like stars across the horizon. It feels like a village breathing into life. So many people already, spread across this vast land. With time, this could bloom into a proper town.
Add a few windmills, and you'd swear you were in Switzerland.
As tension melts away, silence settles around her, deep, rich, unfamiliar. Not like the silence with Yumi before. Back then, closeness felt forced, awkward. Paulo never knew where to stand, how close was too close. It wasn't painful, just… uncomfortable. So, she speaks up, breaking the hush with a smile, confident, unafraid.
"Sensei, what grows in these fields?"
"Asura wheat, mainly. The kind used for bread. A few green vegetables, and Bardius flowers. Those get turned into spices in the capital. Everything else ends up on someone's plate."
Yumi pauses, then adds today marks the final test. Her role as tutor is ending. She's never been one to linger, impatient by nature. If today's the last lesson, tomorrow might mean goodbye. This house, this routine, gone.
Today is the last day. Let's talk a bit more. But I can't find anything interesting to talk about. I can only keep asking things about the village.
According to Yumi, this place is Buina, a quiet village nestled in the Fedoa region of northern Asura, deep within the poisoned island of Terra.
Home to around thirty farming families, it's a humble settlement where life moves at the rhythm of the seasons.
Paulo's father, Daiki, serves as the village's appointed knight: eyes on the ground, voice in disputes, and shield against the magical beasts that roam the wilds. In essence, he's an official protector of the realm.
Yet even with royal duty on his shoulders, the peace here runs deep. Young villagers rotate through security duties, so Daiki's role lightens after morning patrols, afternoon finds him resting at home. There's simply not much chaos to quell.
With those details shared, the fields around us began to fade, stretching thinner with every step. Paulo had no more questions. Silence settled in, unbroken, as we walked. Roughly an hour later, the last traces of cultivated land vanished behind us. Ahead now, nothing but wild, untamed grassland, untouched and wide as the sky.