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1998 December A certain village in Northern Europe
Northern Europe The forest
Bold and stubborn, the deep, snow-covered woods kept the village hidden.
In this forest, the conifers grew more thickly than they should. The trees crowded against each other, as if defying the laws of nature.
A lone shadow crawled along, weaving its way through the gaps in the trees.
The shadow wore heavy winter gear, forming a puffy silhouette as it wandered aimlessly through the snowy forest.
“Not good.”
Stopping in front of an enormous tree, the figure spoke, sounding just a little troubled. The breath streaming from his mouth turned white immediately, fogging his vision slightly.
As the frosty burst cleared, the man glanced up at the sky.
The blue that showed through the gaps in the evergreens had acquired a faintly darker hue, hinting that it wouldn’t be long until sunset.
“Maybe it was bum information. Come to think of it, there’s no way anyone would build a castle out here in the back of beyond.”
As the man spoke, he lowered his gaze again and sized up his surroundings.
The evergreens were abnormally dense, and snow peeked out from the spaces between them in a pattern of pure white stripes.
“Well now, what to do… Should I turn back, or—?”
Murmuring to himself, he turned, looking around at the forest. Compared to the direction he’d just come from, there seemed to be less snow up ahead. The atmosphere that hung about this forest was odd to begin with, and the thick trees blocked out the sunlight, as if night was waiting beyond them.
After giving it a little thought, the man set off again, heading deeper into the forest.
Almost as if he was being drawn by something…
A person has come to the village.
It’s a man.
He’s wearing thick clothes, and the only part of him exposed to the air is a bit of his face.
I’m standing at the entrance to the village when he walks up to me and says just one word:
“Hello.”
He’s making a strange face. Both corners of his mouth are raised, and his eyes are half-shut.
It isn’t an expression I often see from the villagers.
It’s the sort of expression “people from outside” sometimes wear.
I still don’t really understand what it means.
Correction: I must have known once. I’ve only forgotten. After all, I haven’t been able to observe one for a very long time.
“I tell you what—it’s nippy here, isn’t it! Really and truly frigid! I’d better be grateful for this wonderful cold! If it hadn’t been so cold, this cold-weather gear would have been completely useless!”
It’s a loud voice. A clear voice.
“By the way, does this village have an inn or something? If it does, could you tell me where to find it? I camped in the forest yesterday, see, and then I walked all night, so I’d like to rest somewhere.”
Inn. A facility to accommodate people from outside.
The village doesn’t have one, so I shake my head.
“You’re kidding! There isn’t one? That’s a problem. Is there someplace I could rest? As long as it’ll keep the wind and the rain off, anywhere’s fine. Like, say, a waterwheel shed. By the way, what’s the name of this place? I really didn’t think anyone would be living this deep in the woods. Or is there a road that leads to town on the other side of the village? Still, on the map, it looked as though this whole area was forest for several dozen miles… Talk about unreliable. I guess you really can’t trust anything you haven’t seen or heard yourself! Don’t you think so? Oh, that’s right: My name is Elmer. Elmer C. Albatross. ‘El’ for short. It’s great to meet you!”
Words. A vast quantity of words flows into me. There are so many of them that they overwhelm my capacity for them, and I’m unable to respond well. In the space of a breath, this person has rattled off more sentences than the villagers speak in an entire day.
Elmer.
Of the deluge of words breaking over me, that name is the only one I manage to remember.
“Oh, sorry, sorry! The thing is, it’s been a long time since I saw anyone else, and—I’m such a dolt—even though I was talking to a cute little kid like you, all I did was go on and on about myself! Hold on, you do understand me, right? I am using this country’s official language, technically speaking. But wait, am I wrong? Um, let’s see, getting back to the original topic, is there anywhere I can rest?”
I do understand him. It’s just that my abilities can’t keep up.
“I shall…take you there. Master…Elmer.”
I respond as usual. It’s no different from the way I always act with the villagers.
However, when I speak, Master Elmer cocks his head to one side.
“Ah? Why are you being so formal? Oh, wait—do you waitress at a dining hall or something? Is that it?”
Again, without waiting for my answer, Master Elmer keeps talking a blue streak.
“I tell you what, though, the people in this village are funny. The minute I got here, everybody ran into their houses and shut the windows! Does this village not like strangers or something? Or are they getting ready for Christmas, maybe?”
Christmas. Another unfamiliar term.
I don’t know how to respond, so I only gaze quietly at Master Elmer’s face.
“…What’s this, what’s this, what—what? What? Did I say something weird? If I did, I’m sorry, but…”
“What is…Christmas?”
I voice my question.
That is my duty, after all.
“……What? Don’t you know? Christmas. I see… It’s even taken root in the Far East lately, so I just assumed it would be common knowledge in these parts. Is your religion different, maybe? I guess I’ll look into that later.”
He murmurs the last part as if to himself, then glances at my face and bursts out laughing.
“I see, all right. Well, here’s what we’ll do, then! If the religion around here doesn’t forbid it, I’ll teach you about Christmas! Oh, Christmas is… Well, frankly, it’s a festival, a party! Everyone gets crazy and noisy together, and they eat turkey and pie and give each other presents!”
Master Elmer’s face distorts even further.
His voice is loud. Then he puts his hands out toward me.
His hands touch my cheeks.
“That’s right, we smile. When there’s a festival, everybody smiles. Smile, that’s right, smile! You know, it’s a bit strange to say this out of the blue, but kids like you are cutest when you smile, see? Well, erm, I guess it’s kind of cliché to say, but as your Christmas present, I’ll help you smile! I bet it’ll be cute, it’ll be real cute, incredibly cute! You’ll be popular with all the boys your age!”
As he says this, Master Elmer pinches my cheeks lightly.
I don’t put up any real resistance, and I remember something.
The expression he is wearing is called a “smile.”
It’s the face people make when they think something is fun.
“Look forward to it: We’ll be having a party the day after tomorrow! Generally, at this point, you’d already be smiling, you know?”
Little by little, I remember. What it feels like to have fun, and the memories I have in connection with it.
I want to remember more. More, more.
It feels as though if I talk with this person, I’ll be able to remember lots of things. I might learn things I don’t know yet. Two days from now, during this “Christmas” festival—More, more.
I remember one more thing.
Is this the feeling called “anticipation”? Or should I call it “hope”—?
That was two days ago.
A stone-floor room.
Sounds echoing in it.
Splorch, blutch, skash.
Sounds like those, over and over.
Right now, the thing that used to be Master Elmer is lying in front of me.
Just a thing. A clothed, human-shaped lump of meat, leaking red liquid.
The villagers are standing around it.
They have wooden clubs and stones in their hands, and they’re bringing them down on Master Elmer’s body by turns.
Splorch, splat, splish.
The dull sounds continue around us. Master Elmer doesn’t move.
Someone is standing in front of me.
A middle-aged man. Whiskered face. Boss. The village’s. The village headman. 
It’s Master Dez.
“What were you plotting with the outsider, you damn brat?”
So saying, Master Dez brings his club down on me.
Pain.
Numbness runs through me. Of its own accord, my body falls to the floor.
“Dammit, dragging us out here where the monster might appear… You’re evil to the core, you good-for-nothing.”
I can see Master Dez’s foot. Under his thick boot, there’s a pretty ornament made out of paper. An ornament that used to be pretty.
Pretty. The natural way the descriptor surfaced strikes me as odd.
When did I remember the word pretty?
As my head fills with questions, the club comes down on it again
and my body stops moving.
“Throw it outside! Got that?!”
Master Dez yells at the me who had been watching, sounding irritated.
Carrying me over my shoulder, I carefully pick up the paper ornament.
It’s made to look like a person in red clothes.
The paper doll with a boot print on it, and Master Elmer’s huddled body.
As I look at these two things, I feel some sort of emotion rise in my heart.
…But I can’t remember.
What is this feeling? When it wells up, what on earth am I supposed to do?
I can’t remember anything. And so, in the end, there is nothing I can do.
I want him to teach me. More, more, more, more, more…
Just how many years has it been since I wished hard for something?
How long has it been since it came home to me that in the end, those wishes would not come true…?
With myself on my shoulder, I see it.
The villagers in the room begin to get agitated about something.
A pause.
For the space of about two breaths, they look at one another, wordlessly.
Then…someone brings a farming hoe down on Master Elmer’s back.
Red.
A spray of red.
The hoe rises, coated in red, and the red turns into lines that begin to drip.
In the light of the candles, the red spray looks very warm.
Red, red, redredredredredredredredredredredredredred
The feelings I thought I had are all dyed red, and just when my thoughts are about to stop…
As if to make doubly sure, the blade of the hoe comes down again.
Red. Red. Red.
A clear memory of that color burns itself into my brain.
I feel absolutely nauseated, but even that emotion is overwritten by the endless flood of red.
Red.