Chapter 33:Letter
Grandpa would not return home for a week.
That was the first thing Maya told Ank when he asked.
At first, Ank did not react. His expression remained blank, but his hands curled into fists at his side. The words struck him like cold rain on a burning fire. A week. For anyone else, a week might be nothing more than a fleeting passage of time. But for Ank, who had only two months before he had to leave the village to complete his quests, a week was too much. Time was precious—every second mattered.
When the silence dragged for too long, Maya nervously stepped forward, holding something tightly in her hands. "Before you say anything, Grandpa left this for you."
Her voice was soft, trembling as though she feared he might reject even this small gesture. She extended a folded letter, its edges rough, the ink faintly smudged from the old man's hurried handwriting.
Ank stared at it for a moment, his irritation flickering across his face. His jaw tightened. He wanted to demand answers—where did the old man go? Why now? Why not tell him? But before he could utter a single word, Maya shoved the letter into his hands and quickly retreated.
She turned, her long hair swaying behind her, and almost ran into her room. The door shut with a soft but decisive click, leaving Ank alone in the hall with only the letter in his grip.
For a moment, he thought about going after her, but the weight of the paper in his palm dragged his attention downward.
The old man's handwriting was messy, the lines uneven, as if written in haste or urgency. Ank slowly unfolded the letter.
The Letter
Hello boy,
When you are reading this, I am already departing to do very important work that will take time, so I will not return for one month. I told Maya that I would return in a week, but my work will take more than three weeks.
So take care of Maya and do not stop training. You know training is life.
And lastly, after I return, I will tell you where I went.
So take care, Ank, and also take care of Maya.
Maya never leaves alone without me, so take care of her.
If I hear that you mistreated her, I will kill you.
Once again, I say training is life, so don't stop training.
Oh, I forgot to tell you—don't inform Maya that I will return in one month, so she won't take stress.
Ank froze as he reached the end of the letter. His entire body went stiff, and for a second his mind stopped working.
"What… what is this…?" he muttered, his voice low but filled with confusion and frustration.
Old man -arthur, his guide on this planet who saved him , the only person he could rely on to answer his countless questions about this world—had left. Left without warning. Left without explanation.
And worse… he would not be returning for an entire month.
Ank's breath grew heavy. A month. He only had two months before his own departure. A month lost without guidance, without old man knowledge, without the comfort of the old man's presence.
"Why…" He squeezed the letter so tightly that the paper crumpled. "Why did you go without telling me?!"
The empty house gave him no answer.
He wanted to scream, but instead he threw himself onto his bed, staring up at the wooden ceiling. His mind replayed Arthur's words over and over again—training is life… training is life…
Yes, Ank loved training. It was the one thing that gave him focus, the one thing that dulled the edge of his frustration. But still…
Arthur… old man… how could you leave without telling me?
Ank turned on his side and shut his eyes. Exhaustion from the day's training and the sudden storm in his chest weighed him down. Before he realized it, sleep claimed him, though it was restless and filled with fragments of dreams he could not remember.
Morning
The next morning, Ank awoke to the smell of food drifting from the kitchen. His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten properly the day before.
Maya was moving quietly in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. She looked almost peaceful as she worked, humming under her breath. The early light of dawn spilled through the window, painting her figure in soft golden hues.
Ank hesitated, the crumpled letter still in his pocket. He knew what Arthur had written, and he knew what Arthur had ordered—Don't tell Maya. But the weight of secrecy pressed heavily on him. Maya deserved to know the truth.
His steps echoed softly as he entered the room. Maya looked up immediately, her eyes brightening at the sight of him.
"Good morning, Ank," she greeted warmly.
Ank nodded. He wanted to sit down and eat silently, to avoid the subject, but the words forced themselves out of his mouth. "Maya… ypur Grandpa won't be returning in a week."
Maya froze, the spoon in her hand trembling. "Wh-what do you mean?"
"He'll be gone for a month."
Her eyes widened in shock, but before she could ask more, Ank quickly added, "That's all I know." And with that, he turned on his heel and rushed toward the training ground outside, leaving her standing there in stunned silence.
Maya's POV
When Maya had handed the letter to Ank the day before, her heart had been pounding so hard she thought it might burst. She had been so close to telling him—so close to confessing her feelings. But fear had gripped her throat, sealing her words.
So she had run.
Inside her room, she sat on the edge of her bed, clutching the blanket with both hands. "I'm such a coward," she whispered.
But still, she couldn't erase the warmth she felt just being around him. The way he had returned after being gone for so long. The way his presence filled the house.
She smiled to herself. "Tomorrow," she decided. "Tomorrow I'll tell him. I can't keep hiding my feelings forever."
Maya believed that Arthur would return in a week, just as he had told her. That was why she thought she still had time. A week to prepare her heart. A week to stay by Ank's side, to show him her care, to gather courage.
But then, the next morning, Ank's words shattered that fragile hope.
A month.
Her hands gripped the edge of the table as her heart twisted painfully. A month without Grandpa. A month of waiting, of uncertainty.
And yet, buried beneath the sorrow was something else. A fragile happiness blooming quietly.
A month… with Ank.
Her lips curved into a small, trembling smile. She would get to spend more time with him than she ever dared hope for. Even if her chest ached with the worry of Grandpa's safety, a part of her heart rejoiced.
She pressed her palm against her chest. "This time… I won't waste it. I'll tell him. No matter what."
Her resolve, fragile yet determined, gave her strength.
Ank at the Training Ground
Meanwhile, Ank threw himself into training with even greater intensity than usual. His sword cut through the air, his muscles straining with each strike. Sweat poured down his face, soaking his clothes, but he did not stop.
Each swing was a way to release his frustration. Each strike a silent demand—Why did you leave, old man? Why now?
He could not answer that question.
So instead, he focused on the only thing he could control. Training.
The words of the old man echoed again in his head. Training is life.
"Yes," Ank muttered, his breath ragged. "Training is life. Training is all I have right now."
But even as he trained, a part of his mind drifted back to Maya. Her expression when he told her about Grandpa. The way her hands shook.
He sighed, lowering his blade. "Maya…"
For reasons he couldn't quite understand, her presence unsettled him more than Arthur's absence.
Maya's Silent Happiness
While Ank trained, Maya finished preparing breakfast. She set aside a plate for him, though she knew he would probably return late. Still, she couldn't help smiling softly to herself as she imagined him eating the food she made.
"Ank will be here for a whole month…" she whispered, her cheeks warming.
The thought gave her courage. Yes, Grandpa would scold her if he knew she was hiding her feelings. But this was her chance. Her heart would not allow her to miss it.
She closed her eyes, imagining the moment she would finally confess.
And in that fragile hope, she found strength.
This was only the beginning. Grandpa Arthur's absence had left a void, but in that void, both Ank and Maya were forced to confront themselves—their fears, their desires, their choices.
Neither of them realized that this single month would shape the rest of their lives.