Day 1.
Cashew carried a small pot, some flour, a few eggs, and a basket of cookies as she slowly made her way up the hill.
As she walked, she softly murmured to herself.
"Almond will probably be happy."
When she reached the top, she saw that Almond had already stacked stones together to form a small oven.
Almond turned around and smiled.
"It's all done."
He was about to sit down and take a cookie from the basket when Cashew placed a notebook and a pen into his hands.
"You have to write it down, Almond."
She sat down in front of the fire and began explaining.
Each tool, each ingredient, how to mix the dough, how to prepare the oven… she explained everything slowly and carefully.
Almond sat across from her, listening attentively, occasionally lowering his head to write.
Time passed.
Cashew stood up, brushing the dust off her dress as she asked:
"Did you manage to write everything down?"
Almond nodded.
But when Cashew walked over to check, she froze.
There wasn't a single word in the notebook.
Only messy drawings—
a picture of her and Almond standing in a field of flowers, as if they were picking them together. In her hand, she was even holding a small flower.
Cashew blinked.
"What is this… Almond, did you draw me?"
Almond panicked and quickly shut the notebook.
His face turned bright red, and he couldn't bring himself to look at her.
Day 2
The next day, Cashew brought some water and meat up the hill.
But when she arrived, Almond was nowhere to be seen.
"Where is Almond…?"
She looked around, slightly worried.
Suddenly, Almond stepped out from behind her.
In his hands were his iron mace and his old helmet.
Cashew was startled.
"Almond, did you go down the hill?"
Almond nodded.
"Yeah… I went to retrieve my weapon and armor."
He placed the mace down under the tree.
Cashew immediately ran over and tried to lift it.
"Almond, you're not allowed to go down the hill or use violence anymore!"
But it was too heavy for her to lift.
"No matter what happens… you have to endure it!"
Almond turned his face away and scratched his head.
"I was just afraid… they might hurt you… so I wanted to…"
He reached behind his back and snapped the rope tied there.
A pile of firewood fell to the ground.
Cashew stared at it in surprise.
"Where did you get these, Almond?"
Almond hesitated, then turned away.
"I… picked them up… near the stream."
Cashew looked at him for a moment, then smiled.
"Then… let's bake."
Almond quietly let out a sigh of relief.
In truth, he had stolen the wood from a villager resting near the stream.
Almond began to start a fire.
He rubbed two pieces of wood together to create sparks, then fed them into a pile of dry leaves.
A small flame slowly grew and was placed into the stone oven he had prepared earlier.
While waiting for the firewood to burn into embers, Almond took out the flour and eggs and began kneading the dough.
But the dough turned out too dry.
He added water—
Now it became too sticky.
Almond awkwardly tried to fix it, but the mixture only became more difficult to handle.
He poured the dough into the mold.
But instead of holding its shape, it spread out and stuck together into a messy lump.
He placed the mold into the pot, covered it with a lid, and then spread hot coals over the lid to distribute the heat evenly.
Almond sighed and glanced at Cashew, who was standing nearby.
She simply shook her head.
"It's okay."
After a while, he opened the lid.
The cookies were burnt black and stuck tightly to the tray.
Many of them had fused together, misshapen and ugly.
Almond slumped down under the tree.
"I'm sorry… I ruined everything…"
Cashew said nothing.
She walked over, gently broke off a piece, and brought it to her mouth.
It tasted bitter from being burnt, with a lingering raw egg smell.
But she still ate it.
"I think… it's good."
She smiled and took another piece.
Almond looked at her.
His face turned red, and he quickly looked away.
"I know… it's not good…"
He stayed silent for a moment, then whispered softly, almost to himself.
"Tomorrow… I'll make something better than you."
Day 5
Cashew once again brought some cookies and slowly walked up the hill.
When she arrived, she saw Almond working near the tree.
Without making a sound, she quietly approached.
Almond was using large pieces of wood, trying to fix them into the tree.
He carved a hole into the trunk, inserted one end of a log, then used another piece of wood to support it from below, securing it into the ground.
The dry sound of wood scraping against wood echoed faintly.
Almond wiped the sweat from his forehead and let out a breath.
"Alright… Cashew won't have to get tired anymore."
He turned around—
And flinched when he saw Cashew standing right behind him.
"Almond, what are you doing?"
Almond hurriedly stood up, brushing off wood chips and dust from his clothes, flustered.
"I… I thought sitting on the ground would be dirty… so I made a chair for you."
Cashew looked at the chair.
It was just a simple log fixed into the tree, crude and slightly uneven.
But she still stepped forward.
She sat down.
Creak…
The chair let out a rough sound and tilted slightly to one side, making her body sway a little.
Cashew paused for a moment.
Then she smiled.
"It's… really comfortable."
Almond stood behind her, not daring to look directly.
He turned his face away, hiding his hands behind his back.
Small cuts on his hands were still bleeding, staining his skin red.
He quietly clenched his fists, trying to hide it.
After a moment, Almond spoke.
"Can you… stay here with me a bit longer?"
Cashew looked at him.
Then gently nodded.
"Of course."
She smiled softly.
"I'll stay longer today."
The wind blew across the hill.
The chair creaked softly once more.