With Hajime seemingly dead, a profound despair settled over the four companions. Their hopes for the mission, for their journey, seemed to shatter in that instant. There was not much they could do, or so they thought.
After a period of stunned silence, they made the solemn decision to continue looking for the white dragon tail, but first, they would bury their fallen comrade.
U-ri, his face grim, sat under a nearby tree, carefully carving Hajime's name onto a smooth piece of wood. Michio and Abrafo, their grief heavy, began to dig Hajime's grave. Abrafo was still openly weeping, tears streaking his dust-smudged cheeks as he shoveled, unable to believe that he, inadvertently, had killed Hajime.
Yul gently laid Hajime's lifeless body down on the soft earth. He began to meticulously wipe the blood from Hajime's face, a tender, sorrowful gesture. Then, as he wiped Hajime's neck, a faint, almost imperceptible sound escaped Hajime's lips – a soft giggle.
Shocked, Yul quickly withdrew his hand, his eyes wide, and instinctively took a startled step back.
Hajime groaned in pain, clutching his stomach, and slowly, incredibly, sat up. The three others, their faces a mixture of disbelief and awe, rushed over and stood beside Yul, staring down at the resurrected mage.
Hajime looked up at the four of them, their expressions a bewildering blend of fear, confusion, and relief. He managed a weak smile. "What are you four looking at?"
Abrafo, still tearful and utterly flummoxed, looked at Michio and U-ri. "Is he... is he dead?" he whispered, as if Hajime couldn't hear him.
Hajime sighed, a long, exasperated sound. "Did you know I can hear you?"
Michio, his mind racing, muttered, "What if something controls him after he dies? With such a wound on his abdomen, there's no way he could have survived."
Hajime looked down at the gaping wound on his abdomen, a gruesome reminder of his recent "death." He frantically raised his head to look at Abrafo, a flicker of irritation in his eyes. "How many days will it take for this wound to heal? You have gone too far this time."
"Tie him up first, before he attacks us," Michio urged, stepping forward cautiously.
U-ri, tried to rationalize the situation. "There must be some demon controlling him, or perhaps because he is the great mage Hajime, he suddenly came back from the dead."
Hajime rubbed his belly, wincing slightly. "Have you guys finished debating?"
"Hajime?" Michio asked, his voice still uncertain.
"Yeah, what's wrong?" Hajime replied, his tone casual, almost amused by their shock.
"You're dead, but now you're not dead," Abrafo stammered, pointing a shaking finger at Hajime. "How is that possible?"
"Some angry Goddess doesn't want me dead," Hajime said cryptically, his eyes fixing on Abrafo with a cold intensity. "You owe me a sword stab."
Abrafo, still processing the impossible, pointed a finger at Yul. "Who is he?" he asked Hajime, misdirecting his confusion.
Hajime slowly stood up, and the four men instinctively began to back away from him, their fear evident. "Why are you asking me?" he began, then paused, realizing their terror. "Oh," he said, a slow understanding dawning on him, "I forgot to tell you. I can't die." He laughed then, a low chuckle, but the still-unhealed injury in his abdomen prevented him from laughing harder, a sharp pang of pain stopping him. He looked at the four people, still dazed, and elaborated, "Yes, I can't die. A very evil goddess cursed my ancestors."
Abrafo, his face suddenly illuminated with a wave of overwhelming relief, rushed over and threw his arms around Hajime in a tight hug. He exclaimed happily, "Thank the goddess for casting a curse on your ancestors! Otherwise… I would feel guilty for stabbing you to death for the rest of my life."
Hajime frowned, grimacing. "Put me down. Even if I can't die, I can still feel the pain." He snorted, a sharp sound of discomfort.
Abrafo, chastened, quickly put Hajime down. "How long will it take for your injury to heal?" he asked, genuinely concerned.
"At most ten days," Hajime replied, flexing his abdominal muscles slightly, "because the wound is very large."
Yul, a wide smile breaking across his face, walked up to Hajime. "I'm glad you didn't die," he said, his voice laced with profound relief.
"What happened to you two?" Hajime asked, curious about their shared delusion.
Yul proceeded to recount his terrifying experience in the bell fruit area. "We entered the bell fruit area. When I stood up, Abrafo was gone. Then I saw a scary goblin eating Abrafo's body, and then I started attacking the goblin."
Abrafo jumped in, eager to share his own nightmare. "And I held Yul in my arms! Yul was dying, and he said he was attacked by a demon. Then the demon appeared in front of me, and I started attacking the demon."
Michio shook his head. "What we saw is different from what the two of you saw."
Yul and Abrafo looked at each other, then back at Michio. "Different? How?" they asked in unison.
"We saw Yul swinging his sword at the branches and then on the ground," Michio explained.
"And you," Hajime said, looking at Abrafo, a chuckle escaping him, "you knelt on the ground crying with two fruits in your arms."
Abrafo's mouth fell open in mortified disbelief. "I was what?" He felt a wave of profound embarrassment wash over him. He looked at the other four men, his face flushing. "We'll never mention this again. Let's burn this forest to the ground!"
"We are in the middle of the forest," U-ri countered reasonably. "If you burn it, we will burn too."
"Since it's protected by magic," Hajime added, "it won't be so easy to burn."
"Let's put up a warning sign," Yul suggested, a practical solution. "At least it'll keep people away from it."
After U-ri quickly wrote the warning on a piece of cloth and hung it prominently on one of the trees, the five picked up their belongings and made their way down the winding waterfall stream, leaving the hallucinatory forest behind.
After walking for two hours, they spotted a small village nestled down the mountain. It took the five men another two arduous hours to finally reach the village. Weary but hopeful, they walked into the bustling town center.
The market in the town was crowded and noisy, a vibrant tapestry of life. Merchants loudly hawked their wares, trying to entice travelers on the street. Hungry, young, and old alike, sat on the dusty streets, begging for food. Women and men, with practiced ease, waved travelers into their brothels, their voices seductive invitations.
"Looks like these people don't really care if we're travelers or not," U-ri observed, taking in the chaotic scene.
"Let's find a place to sit and eat," Michio suggested, his stomach rumbling.
U-ri looked at the four men, a new concern on his face. "Do they use the same currency as us?"
"I don't think they'll deny our golden feather," Abrafo said confidently, pulling out a gleaming example.
The five found a dilapidated inn, its wooden facade weathered by time. They walked in, and a welcoming staff member, surprisingly neat, stepped forward to greet them. They chose a table conveniently located near the front door, offering a view of the street.
Michio, afraid the waiter might not understand him, spoke slowly and deliberately. "Do… you… accept… this?" He carefully showed the waiter a shining silver feather.
The waiter, equally slowly, replied word by word, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Yes… we… accept… it…"
Michio then made a scooping motion, mimicking eating. "Great… give… us… some… food…"
The waiter nodded, a flicker of impatience in his expression. "We… have… thirteen… different… dishes."
The other four sitting at the table exchanged exasperated glances. They were more than a little annoyed by Michio's performance, as it was clear the waiter and they spoke the same language perfectly well.
Hajime, rolling his eyes, cut through the charade. "Bring us one of each dish," he said clearly and concisely.
The waiter sighed, pulling the towel over his right shoulder. He looked at Hajime, then at Michio with a wry expression. "Oh, why let this disabled monk talk if you can talk normally?" He then looked at the other four men, a knowing smirk on his face. "Your food will be ready soon."
The other four men at the table burst into laughter at Michio's expense.
As the five men were still eating, a sudden commotion erupted outside. Suddenly, people in the inn rushed out into the street, their faces alight with excitement and curiosity. The five stood up and walked towards the main entrance, peering out. They saw a line of handcuffed women, their eyes downcast, following a man perched regally on the back of a majestic, four-foot-tall tiger. The tiger's eyes looked fiercely at the throngs of people lining both sides of the street, and it emitted a low, powerful growl.
Michio grabbed one of the men standing beside him, a curious traveler. "What's going on?" he asked.
The traveler, his eyes fixed on the spectacle, replied, "You probably don't know. Did you see those slaves?" The five nodded. "They're for bidding."
"Is that why there are so many people here today?" U-ri asked, his voice filled with a mixture of confusion and dismay.
"It happens every few years," the traveler explained, almost casually. "Merchants will travel across the land, collecting the rarest of beauty to sell here. Whoever bids more wins the item."
"These are people, not a thing!" Hajime uttered, his voice tight with barely contained fury, a flash of righteous anger in his eyes. He started to walk out, but his arm was quickly caught by Yul, who held him back firmly.
"Not in the Land of The Alpha," the traveler stated, completely unfazed by Hajime's outrage. He continued to watch the fifty women following behind the man on the back of the tiger, his gaze impassive.
"It's a tradition in their kingdom," Yul said quietly to Hajime, his grip firm. "So, whatever you plan to do won't change anything here."
"Hajime, Yul is right. Don't be so reckless," U-ri said, gently patting Hajime's left shoulder. "If traveling in their land, we must respect their traditions. Remember, we have our mission."
The five watched, helpless, as the procession of people disappeared into the crowded street, swallowed by the indifferent throng.
The traveler turned to Hajime, a comforting smile on his face. "Don't worry, many of these beauties would rather be sold than be slaves. Those who can afford it are rich and wealthy people, so in a sense, it's better to be sold here in this market than to be a slave in the desert."
"Kind sir, how do you know that?" Michio asked, genuinely curious.
The traveler laughed, a hearty sound. "I brought my fourth wife from him four years ago." He pointed to a nearby table. "Look over there, that's my wife."
The five people looked at the table and saw a beautiful woman sitting and eating alone.
"Then why are you looking at another beautiful woman," U-ri asked, his voice tinged with a philosophical curiosity, "since your fourth wife is sitting there?"
The traveler chuckled. "Sir, don't tell me you don't want more than one wife."
"I had a wife who died many years ago," U-ri replied, a shadow passing over his face.
"Then what are you waiting for?" the traveler pressed, then looked at U-ri's humble appearance, his smile fading slightly. "Thinking about it, I don't think you can afford it."
U-ri smiled, a serene, unperturbed expression. "I don't want one." He shook his head, then walked back to their table, leaving the traveler to his thoughts.
Michio, oblivious to the deeper implications of the scene, sighed contentedly as he ate. "You see, Hajime," he said, "everything is fair in this universe because heaven created us equally. Life is always fair."
Hajime looked at Michio, who was happily devouring his food, a bitter taste in his mouth. He wondered, if everything in the world was equal and without prejudice, then why someone like him, had to die alone in the back alley of some unknown garbage area?
Hajime looked directly at Michio, his eyes blazing with a quiet intensity. "Life is never fair. Everything in the world is not created equal as you said. I know it's true, and you know it too."
Yul, sensing Hajime's sudden, profound anger, looked at him with concern. "Hajime, don't make trouble," he urged, his voice soft but firm.
"I'm not making trouble," Hajime retorted, his voice strained. He felt deeply upset, a raw nerve exposed and yearned to be alone at that moment. He stood up abruptly and walked to the counter. He placed a gleaming golden leaf on the counter. "I need a room."
Michio looked after him, confused. "Did I say something wrong? Why did Hajime suddenly get angry?"
"His temper is always out of control," Abrafo said, shrugging. "Yul, why don't you go comfort your wife."
"Then I think we will stay in this inn tonight," U-ri said, his gaze following Hajime as he followed a waiter up the stairs, his form disappearing into the shadows of the inn.
Inside the quiet room, Hajime was lying on the bed alone, staring blankly at the ceiling. "Life is not fair… for you and me," he whispered, a profound sadness in his voice. "Why are our lives so miserable? We are just two blank, innocent canvases, and adults think they have the right to paint us any color they want. So how can life be fair?" Hajime sighed, a weary, defeated sound, and closed his eyes. "Two people from two different universes, but... sharing the same pain and humiliation...so there is no such thing as fairness in this world of yours or mine."