The morning light spilled over Date Village like a soft promise. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of wet earth and herbs. Arashi rose quietly, careful not to wake his father, whose breathing was shallow but steady. Around the village, muted coughs drifted from the houses—friends and neighbors still struggling, their energy waning day by day. Every step he took reminded him that time wasn't on their side.
He packed his small satchel with the herbs and notes from the past days, his hands steady even though his mind raced. Today was different. Today wasn't just about gathering; today they were going to make the medicine. Finally, he would see if his efforts over the last week could translate into something that might actually save lives.
Porlyusica was already at the edge of the clearing, crouched among the familiar plants. She glanced up as he approached, her sharp eyes flicking over him, calm and unyielding. But there was a subtle shift—a flicker of acknowledgment that told him she trusted him enough to take the next step.
"I've prepared everything we'll need," she said, her voice clipped but not unkind. "Follow my instructions. Pay attention. One mistake could ruin the batch."
Arashi nodded, swallowing the tension in his throat. "I'm ready," he said, voice steady. The faint hum of his Massage Magic ran through his veins, subtle and grounding, reminding him to breathe, to focus, to act.
They worked side by side, her hands guiding his when needed, correcting gently but firmly. Arashi followed every movement, every careful gesture, memorizing the proportions, the timing, the way certain leaves had to be crushed just so. His hands vibrated faintly, Magic reacting to his hope, his determination, his worry for the villagers, steadying him as he pressed, kneaded, and stirred.
"This one," Porlyusica said, holding a leaf up, "must be added last. Too early, and it'll lose potency." She didn't look at him, yet he felt the weight of her trust, the quiet approval in letting him handle the others.
Arashi worked meticulously, careful not to spill, not to crush too hard, following her guidance like a shadow. He didn't need her to praise him; her neutral acknowledgment was enough. Every mistake he avoided felt like a small victory.
Hours passed. The clearing smelled of crushed leaves, earthy oils, and faint, sweet fragrances. Sweat pricked his brow, but he barely noticed. This was more than just magic or herbs; this was life in his hands, small lives depending on the precision of his work.
Finally, she stepped back, observing the mixture he had prepared. "It's done," she said, voice quiet. Her eyes, sharp and calculating, softened for just a fraction of a second. "It's ready to administer."
Arashi exhaled, tension leaving him in a rush. "We did it?" he asked, almost in disbelief.
Porlyusica's lips twitched as though resisting a smile. "We did it. But remember, the people still need care. This isn't magic that fixes everything instantly."
He nodded, feeling the hum of his Massage Magic pulse softly, almost as if it were acknowledging the accomplishment. It wasn't healing. Not yet. But it was a start. Small steps could still mean survival.
Then, as she moved to pack the mixture, she glanced at him. "There's one more thing," she said carefully. "A rare plant. It's not for the villagers. It's… special. I'll explain once we find it."
Arashi's curiosity flared, but he didn't ask too much. He had learned to trust her timing. Today was about the villagers. The rare plant could wait.
They returned to the village slowly, carrying the medicine and applying it carefully to each bed. He moved from house to house, hands steady, whispering soft instructions to Porlyusica when she guided him. Faces pale with fever turned slightly more relaxed as the medicine touched their lips. Coughs eased. Breaths became less strained. Small victories, but victories nonetheless.
By the time the sun dipped low, painting the village in gold, Arashi paused at his father's house. Dad's chest rose and fell with more ease, and Arashi felt the subtle warmth of his Magic run beneath his hands, supporting the body gently. Not healing, not curing—but reinforcing what the medicine had started.
Porlyusica stood a step back, her gaze scanning each patient. "You handled this well," she said softly, more openly than she had before. "Your hands… steady. Your attention to detail… it matters."
Arashi's lips curved slightly, the small acknowledgment warming him more than any words. He had done this, but not alone. She hadn't softened completely—her tsundere edge remained—but trust had been earned, and it felt like a bridge to something greater.
As night fell and the village quieted, Arashi looked out over the rooftops. The illness still lingered, but hope had returned in small doses. The rare plant lingered in his mind, a whisper of what was to come. Soon, they would need it. Soon, he would need to understand why she had brought it at all.
But for now… he had acted. He had helped. And for the first time in days, he felt the faintest sense that the villagers might survive.
The Real Cure
The village was quiet, but it didn't feel peaceful. Soft coughs floated from open windows, and pale faces peeked from doorways. For eight days, I had helped Porlyusica gather herbs, follow her directions, carry bundles, watch her hands move with that sharp, precise care. We had done what we could, but now I realized it was only the surface—letting people breathe easier, easing their aches. It wasn't the real cure.
Porlyusica moved through the houses, her hands steady, her eyes scanning each person. There was no scolding, no impatience, just sharp focus. Every slight tremor, every shallow breath, she noticed.
I felt the familiar hum beneath my skin. My magic was there again—not healing, not controlling—but helping me move carefully, pass ingredients steadily, and keep my mind sharp. I didn't think about it. I just felt it, and it made everything I did steadier, more precise.
"Arashi," she said, her voice soft but firm, "we're doing the proper medicine now. Follow me exactly."
I nodded. This was it—the moment when we actually tried to heal them, not just ease their pain.
We moved house to house, preparing poultices and teas exactly as she instructed. I mixed, measured, and passed herbs. She tasted each batch, adjusted a pinch here, a leaf there. I didn't second-guess her; I just followed.
I could see the difference almost immediately. Breathing steadier. Color returning. Small smiles flickering on pale lips. My magic pulsed faintly, keeping my hands calm and steady as I worked. It was subtle, almost invisible, but it made a difference.
By midday, nearly every villager had received the treatment. Some were even laughing quietly, coughing less, their steps a little lighter. Relief spread through me like sunlight through the clouds.
Then, I remembered the rare plant she had described weeks ago. My curiosity got the better of me.
"Porlyusica," I said carefully, "the plant you mentioned… will it help the villagers too?"
Her gaze met mine, sharp but thoughtful. A little hesitation, then a small nod.
"We'll look for it later," she said, her tone firm. "It's important… but not today. Right now, these people need us more."
I swallowed, my hands tightening around the satchel. I didn't know why the plant was so important, or who it would help, but I understood. It was a promise waiting to be fulfilled—a goal for the future.
As we finished the last house, I glanced at the villagers. Breathing easier, color returning, tiny smiles appearing here and there. The weight pressing on my chest felt lighter. My magic hummed faintly beneath my skin, a quiet echo of hope.
Porlyusica gave me a small nod, almost like a secret acknowledgment. Not a teacher praising a student, not an adult patting a child on the head—but a simple, silent approval that I had done what was necessary.
I knew this wasn't the end. Tomorrow, we would continue. And later… I might finally understand why that rare plant was so important.
For now, we had done enough. The villagers were safe, breathing easier. And somewhere in the back of my mind, I felt a spark of something more—adventure, danger, the next step.
But today… today we healed.