Jotun Talks Episode 10

Episode 10: Someday, Again

The morning in the Buddhist realm was surprisingly quiet.

Now that her journey in Jotun—a place where heat, sound, and sometimes even lives intersected so intensely—had come to an end, Oiwa felt a certain bewilderment at the silence. The garden outside the window, bathed in white, hazy light, was filled with quietly blooming lotus flowers. From afar, the cool, ringing sound of a ritual tool, like a wind chime, echoed occasionally.

“...Whew... it’s relaxing... no, wait, it’s actually too relaxing.”

With a faint smile, she rolled over on her futon. Having returned to her own room for the first time in days, her body felt heavy as if it were finally remembering its fatigue, yet a part of her mind felt strangely sharp.

When she looked toward the corner of the room, there it was: the ice sculpture and the stone tablet of vows. They were precious, truly precious gifts entrusted to her by the King of Jotun and Liliya.

“...Friends really are heavy, aren't they? Both physically and mentally.”

Oiwa muttered jokingly, yet she stroked the surface of the ice sculpture with gentle fingertips. The days in Jotun flashed through her mind like a revolving lantern.

The King, filled with strength and pride.
The stubborn, yet somehow endearing elders.
And above all—Liliya.

“Liliya... I wonder how she’s doing.”

She suddenly found herself whispering those words. The face of Liliya, who had promised at their parting, “I’ll definitely come back,” remained etched behind her eyelids—the way she had held back tears and smiled regardless.

Oiwa stood up quietly and sat back down in the center of the room. She placed both hands on her knees and closed her eyes.

“...I have to protect that girl’s smile, don't I?”

Before she knew it, the words had slipped out naturally. She wasn't saying it for anyone else to hear. But she knew that a vow was built upon such small, repeated resolutions.

When she opened her eyes again, the light outside had grown slightly stronger. It was a sky in the Buddhist realm, calm in every way, unlike the fog-deepened Jotun of yesterday.

Even so—.

“I wonder if Jotun will ever become as peaceful as this someday.”

Her small whisper dissolved into the air of the room.

However, the wish she had poured into those words would never fade. Oiwa returned her gaze to the gifts and traced the covenant inscribed on the stone tablet with her finger.

《Transcending power and culture, we shall learn from one another and remain connected.》

Weighty words.
They were a new promise, chosen together with Liliya and agreed upon by the King, to connect Jotun and the Buddhist Realm.

Oiwa whispered in a small, yet certain voice.

“...Well then. I wonder how I should make this sound interesting next time.”

It wasn't an attempt to sound cool, just a natural bit of banter as she returned to her daily life.
Those words, so characteristic of her, rang out with particular softness in the silence of the Buddhist Realm.

And so, along with the promise she had made to Liliya, a new day began for Oiwa, who had vowed to visit again.

The government office of the Buddhist Realm—commonly known as the 'Lotus Palace'—was buzzing more than usual.

In the conference room, adorned with soft white walls and gold decorations, there was a round table in the center where twelve priests were lined up.
They were people who usually held strict meetings without a single joke. But today was different.

“The Covenant of Jotun has been officially recorded.”

When the official in charge announced this calmly, the room went deathly silent for a moment.
But the next instant, voices rose as if they had been set free.

“There has never been an example of such deep exchange with a foreign culture before.”
“It is truly a historic achievement.”
“No, no, sharing culture with the land of ice is unprecedented, isn't it?”

They seemed less proud than they were slightly giddy.
It was understandable. For the Buddhist Realm, this was the first time they had achieved such a peaceful form of 'harmony with another world'.

Only one person, Oiwa, was leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed as usual.

(...This has turned into something quite amazing, hasn't it?)

She smiled bitterly to herself.
The days spent eating and sleeping in the land of ice, sometimes arguing, sometimes connecting hearts.
Hearing third parties call that an 'achievement' now felt a little ticklish.

“Moving on to the next agenda item.”

The official in charge raised their voice again.

“The launch of the 'Divine Realm Co-Prosperity Plan.' This is a comprehensive project to further promote future cross-cultural exchange.”

A giant scroll was displayed as they said this.
Stiff, formal words were lined up on it.
Cross-cultural education, joint rituals, sharing of festivals, reciprocal technical exchange... and so on.

“Um...”
Oiwa found herself raising her hand.

Everyone's gaze gathered on her.
The tension was far more terrifying than speaking in front of the King of Jotun.

“It’s a... very impressive plan. But...”

After a brief pause, she slowly spun her words.

“Can culture really be exchanged by writing it on paper and binding it with rules?”

The room fell silent.

“The people of Jotun were truly wary at first. They called us ‘outsiders.’ But we spent nights together, joked around, and even fought. That was the first time they truly smiled at us.”

Oiwa’s narrative gradually changed the atmosphere of the conference room.

“Making a plan isn’t bad. But if that becomes the goal itself... it’s no longer an exchange, it becomes an imposition. That’s why I want you to remember to connect with hearts, not just forms.”

Her words were strangely vivid. It was a realization that wasn’t just ‘armchair theory,’ something only someone who had experienced Jotun could say.

After a heavy silence, the official presiding over the meeting relaxed his cheeks slightly and spoke.

“...Indeed, that may be true. Let’s revise the plan to be more flexible, focusing on heart-to-heart exchange rather than being too caught up in formalities.”

“No objections.”

“I agree.”

Voices of agreement rose one after another. They, who usually tended to be divided in opinion, reached a consensus surprisingly quickly this time.

(...I never expected my words to get through in such a serious setting.)

Oiwa felt the atmosphere of the meeting soften and let out a sigh of relief. Over her shoulder, the young priest who had been in charge of the minutes until just a moment ago spoke to her quietly.

“Lady Oiwa, that was impressive... The voice of someone on the ground truly carries a different weight.”

“No, we were just drinking buddies. Including the King.”

“Drinking buddies...?”

A laugh escaped at the whispered exchange. A slight smile had returned to the conference room.

It was the moment a breeze of a different culture truly blew into this place, which had been dominated only by formalities and ideals.

Oiwa, once again recalling the weight of the covenant, pictures Liliya's face in her mind.

(Liliya... Next time we meet, I'll bring you even more interesting stories.)

Vowing this in her heart, she quietly watched the launch of the new project from within.

The Buddha Realm—.
A tranquil space filled with light. Beneath a deep, infinitely clear blue sky, the archives, the Hall of Ten Thousand Books, stood in silence.
This place is, so to speak, the memory device of the divine realm, recording every event that stretches from the past to the future.

Oiwa was slowly climbing the stairs leading to it.
She had changed into white robes and was holding a cylinder containing the original copy of the covenant.

"...I never imagined I would be the one to carve my name into history in a place like this."

She muttered to no one in particular, but her voice was absorbed by the high-ceilinged corridor and quickly vanished.
Officials were already lined up around her, seemingly waiting for the proceedings to begin.

"Lady Oiwa."

The Chief Archivist called out to her in a quiet yet dignified voice.
Even though he must be over a hundred years old, his back was perfectly straight.

"It has been decided through deliberation that you shall provide the final signature for the official record of the covenant."

"Man... this is, like... a really heavy responsibility."

Oiwa scratched her head, unable to hide her bewilderment.
However, her feet no longer showed any hesitation.

As she stepped onto the platform, a massive gold-leaf scroll was spread out before her eyes.
The characters written there were already set, leaving only the space for Oiwa's own name.

"Please."

Urged on, she took up the brush.
—There was no hesitation.

"To record the friendship and understanding between the Buddha Realm and the Jotun Realm for eternity."

As she slid the final stroke, the entire scroll emitted a faint golden light.
In this world, a record is not merely something written down. It is a contract, and a prayer for the future itself.

"...It's done."

Oiwa quietly set down the brush and bowed to everyone.
The tension that had enveloped the venue dissipated all at once.

"The record is complete."

The secretary's voice echoed, and the room was filled with modest applause.
Oiwa let out a deep breath right there, finally relaxing her shoulders.

(So this is it... we've really connected.)

The days in Jotun were no longer just memories; they had become part of the future of the entire Buddha Realm.
That was the moment she truly realized it.

After the ceremony ended, Oiwa returned to the waiting room.
While changing, she happened to glance into her luggage—

“Oh, this is...”

A letter.
It was in a familiar, somewhat bold handwriting. It was from Lilya.

“To Oiwa. Come visit again soon! Oh, let's do the Ice Festival together next time. Also, I'm going to make you eat your words about your drinking tolerance next time, just you wait!”

She couldn't help but burst into laughter.

“...I'm out here doing big work, and she's as carefree as ever.”

Yet, that lightheartedness was what she loved about her.
More than covenants or futures or such grand things, the promise to “play again” with Lilya felt much more vibrant.

“Yeah, I'll go. Definitely again.”

Oiwa tucked the letter against her chest and stood up.
The covenant had been made and recorded. But in the true sense, culture is something that comes to life from here on out.

She knows that true “culture” is not just about form, but the accumulation of laughter, tears, arguments, and reunions—things like that.

With her back to the archive door, Oiwa smiled quietly.
Her profile looked somewhat radiant.

The Buddha Realm.
The afternoon sun gradually took on a golden hue, softly dyeing the earth. A quiet breeze shook the trees on the hill, passing by like a whisper.

There was one person standing in that place.

Oiwa.
Having returned from Jotun and with the new cultural exchange project at a stopping point, she was looking up at the sky, unusually “all alone.”

“...It's clear out.”

The words she let slip weren't directed at anyone.
Yet, her expression was somewhat peaceful.

She narrowed her eyes, following the clear blue.
Thinking that far beyond it, there must be the sky of Jotun—a smile naturally spilled from her lips.

(I wonder if she's looking at the sky right now, too.)

What I remember is Liliya's smile when we parted.
She was a girl who was incredibly energetic, incredibly straightforward with her emotions, and kind beyond measure.
Even Oiwa, who was usually so dignified, could be herself in front of her.

"Well, next time I go, I'll have to bring even more interesting stories."

I found myself saying that out loud.
It felt less like a promise and more like a 'settled matter.'
Because I felt that I had to do it, without anyone even telling me to.

Daily life in the Buddhist realm is regaining its tranquility.
At the Agency for Cultural Affairs, the new 'Divine Realm Co-Prosperity Project' has begun in earnest, the Jotun Covenant has been officially recorded, and 'coexistence with other cultures' is gradually becoming the norm.

However, Oiwa knows.
That cultural understanding is not born from systems or records alone.
It only exists beyond the accumulation of face-to-face interactions—laughing, arguing, crying, and laughing again... that kind of raw, human connection.

"Ah, I wonder if things are going to get even busier from here on out."

She stretches and mutters this, almost like a complaint.
But her tone sounds somewhat happy.

Suddenly, she takes Liliya's letter out of her pocket.
It was written in her usual bold handwriting.

"Next time, it's definitely a rematch for the Ice Festival! Also, bring some interesting snacks from the Buddhist realm!"

"...Honestly, she's such a free spirit."

She gives a wry smile, but her happiness shines through.
Oiwa gently folds the letter and puts it back in her pocket.

Then, she looks up at the sky once more.

The sun was tilting toward the west, and dusk was approaching.
Yet, its light pushed her back gently, as if blessing her next journey.

"...Let's go. I'll definitely come back."

She mutters to no one in particular and starts walking quietly.
Down the path from the hill, slowly, but with a steady stride.

The flame of cross-cultural understanding will not go out.
It was no longer just an ideal; it had taken root within Oiwa herself through her days with Liliya and the people of Jotun.

(The world doesn't stop. People, cultures, everything keeps moving forward.)

Behind her, the streets of the Buddhist realm were beginning to glow in the twilight.
Ahead of her, an unseen future was unfolding.

Quietly, yet powerfully.
The story came to a soft close, holding the premonition of a future yet to be connected.