He looked around once again.
He clearly understood what he had to do.
He knew which trees to cut, and how much the sun would shine through.
He knew which trees were approaching the end of their lifespan, and which saplings were going to grow.
He knew which branches to prune to make the trees stronger, and which roots that, severed, would kill the tree.
Why?
Is this the power of fairies?
✦ ✦ ✦
“How are we supposed to protect the forest without you?”
Elaine’s voice echoed close to his ear.
“Protect—the forest?”
“Harlequin, what’s the matter?” Diane asked, looking concerned.
He came back to his senses. “S-Sorry. Anyway, I think we can see a rainbow without having to knock over all of the trees. Terry, wait over there.”
Saying so, he turned back to Diane. “Diane, will you pull out and knock down the trees as I tell you to? Then the sun will shine through, and we can see a rainbow.”
“Yeah!” Diane sprung up.
✦ ✦ ✦
Afterwards, Diane followed Harlequin’s directions in pulling up several of the trees in the area.
“It’s true!” she said. “The trees you point out are all easy to pull out.”
“The insides of their roots and trunks are rotted,” he explained.
Each time a tree was taken out, the surroundings became a little brighter. The sun shone on damp surfaces covered with moss and fungi, drying them out. A breeze passed through, and the still air started moving.
“It feels so good!” Diane stretched widely. “Hey, will flowers bloom too?!”
“They’ll bloom. Look!”
Harlequin pointed at grass that was sprouting right before their eyes.
“Ahhh…a rainbow.”
Before long, the sun shone brightly onto the waterfall—and a rainbow came alive.
“It’s just like before. Maybe we won’t get to see the rainbow all the time, but this way, we should be able to keep it for at least a little while.”
“That’s for sure…Ah, it’s so beautiful.” Terry sat on a large boulder beside the waterfall and gazed at the rainbow arching through the bright spray.
He put his flute to his mouth.
And he started to play that song: The Promised Rainbow.
✦ ✦ ✦
The musical scale smoothly rose and fell.
The refrain held steady through the changes in key.
A melody by turns cheerful, playful, and heartrending.
The melody repeated itself, modulating its tone a little each time—
It represented a rainbow.
✦ ✦ ✦
“So beautiful…” Diane murmured.
Before long, the song approached the part where it had broken off earlier.
Terry’s fingers danced upon the flute without faltering—and he spun out the next phrase without hesitation.
The notes ran up the clef in a ringing fanfare.
A quick melody. A bewilderingly changing tempo.
This probably represented the cascading waterfall.
Then the rainbow refrain repeated once again.
Modulating its tone and repeating many times over—
✦ ✦ ✦
“When that time comes, you have to stop me! You, my true friend!”
“How are we supposed to protect the forest without you?”
✦ ✦ ✦
“Don’t go, big brother. Don’t leave me alone.”
The song that carried Terry’s regret, determination, sorrow, and hope pricked at Harlequin’s heart.
It was triggering something: the fairy’s own, similar regret and sorrow.
✦ ✦ ✦
Then, too quickly, the melody ended.
“I played it. I remembered…” Terry muttered, and tears overflowed from his eyes. “Marius…I did it…”
“Yay, amazing, ama~zing!” Diane clapped.
“Harlequin, wasn’t that amazing? Right, Harlequin? Hmm?”
Looking down, Diane gasped.
“Why are you crying, Harlequin?”
“What?” Harlequin hurriedly raised the back of his hand to his cheek. Tears had escaped from his eyes without him realizing it.
Not wanting Terry to notice, he hastily wiped his face with his sleeve.
Terry sat on top of the boulder as though in a daze. But before long he stood up and looked back at the two of them cheerily.
“Thank you,” he said. “It’s all thanks to you guys.”
“No. It’s because you tried so hard,” Diane told him, smiling.
But Harlequin couldn’t muster a smile of his own. He felt like there was something stuck in his chest.
As though, if he listened to the song even more, he would remember a terrible truth.
“Hey, Terry, play it again!” Diane pled, but Harlequin interjected—
“No, don’t!”
“Why not?” the giant asked, surprised.
Harlequin had surprised himself, too, but he shook his head to hide his confusion. “Nah…It’s just, well…You feel satisfied now, right? So…”
“Yes, you’re right. Thank you. I’ll be going now.”
Terry stared wistfully at the rainbow still spanning the waterfall, restored the flute to its leather bag, and thrust it into his belt on his waist.
“Well then,” Diane said, “I’ll show you out of the forest! I can do that at least, right, Harlequin?”
“S-Sure. I mean, I’ll go, too.”
“Yay!” Diane held out her hand to Terry happily.
✦ ✦ ✦
From his viewpoint in the sky, Harlequin looked down at Terry dozing off on Diane’s shoulder as she walked to the forest’s edge. He thought to himself:
What do I want to do?
Do I want to keep living with Diane forever?
Do I want to recover the past I can’t remember?
I don’t know. I want both.
✦ ✦ ✦
Terry will return to the human world.
As for us. What will become of us?
In the quiet forest with the sunlight filtering through the trees, only Diane’s footsteps made a sound.
✦ ✦ ✦
After that, the months continued to pass.
The time the two of them spent together, which they thought would never change.
✦ ✦ ✦
Then, that day abruptly arrived.
“Hey, hey! Let’s go visit the old hunter’s cabin today. It’s been a long time!” Diane proposed one early afternoon.
“Sure, let’s go,” Harlequin agreed. “We haven’t seen him in a while.”
Heading to the hunter’s home, the two saw something surprising.
In the valley where the hunter’s cabin had stood isolated and alone, surrounded by trees, a small village had been erected.
The wild-growing brush had been cleared, and fields had been tilled around the village.
Smoke from cooking fires rose from the chimneys of many of the small homes, and children ran about playing.
The old hunter was no longer there.
Two men who looked just like him came out to greet them, saying they were his grandchildren and telling them that he had passed away long ago. They explained that they had settled in this village and that they operated a general store, purchasing goods from merchants who sometimes came by.
As Harlequin followed the path back home with Diane, he recalled the scene he had just seen.
The numerous children. They each had their own parents and homes.
Children that looked just like their fathers. Children that resembled their mothers. And maybe, children who took after their grandparents.
A fence of roses encircled the village. Before he knew it, fields had been cleared for crops, and vegetables and wheat were being blown by the wind.
Just how much time has passed?
It feels like just the other day to me.
That hunter taught us how to make mountain bird soup, and medicine to lower a fever.
Perhaps that boy who played the flute the other day is no longer of this world either.
During those endless, unchanging days we spent in the forest, they, with their magic-less small bodies and hands, laboriously cleared the forest, cultivated fields, built houses, and multiplied little by little—
“Diane, did you know? Humans are a race with short lifespans, so I heard they have a thing called marriage, where two unrelated people come together and bind their lives to each other,” Harlequin said.
After a pause, Diane sighed and mumbled, “I’m so jealous.”
“Huh? Of humans with their short lifespans?”
Diane didn’t respond. Looking through the gaps in the trees, she asked, sounding lonely: “Harlequin, do you love me?”
Harlequin turned red at the sudden question. But in a weak voice he confirmed, Yes.
“Recently you told me you’d grant me one wish for anything, right?”
“Huh? Yes, I did say that.”
It had been a childish promise from when they played tag. But Diane, slightly blushing, fixed her eyes on Harlequin.
“Well then…please love me forever.”
As if embarrassed by the speechless Harlequin, Diane turned on her heels and ran off into the forest.
Harlequin shouted hastily at her retreating back.
“I…I promise! I’ll always love you, I’ll always be by your side!”
Diane stood still for a moment. But without looking back, she reminded him, “You just have to love me forever!”
Somehow, Harlequin felt bothered by her choice of words.
He was just about to ask her why, when his ear caught an unfamiliar sound.
“What’s this noise?”
Harlequin looked through the trees in the direction of the disturbance.
The noise was clattering…Clattering…A horse-drawn cart was passing along a distant road.
“A cart? They did tell us that merchants come, didn’t they…”
He could see many cloth bags tied to the cart. There were daily necessities such as pots, tableware, and pans, as well as farming tools such as hoes and spades, and even swords.
The wooden wheels advanced down the poorly built mountain road.
Merchant. Carts. Goods.
That noise. Those words. That echoing.
Hanging in the air, Harlequin watched the cart absentmindedly until it was out of sight.