I Finished Saving the World, But Then I Picked Up a Girl With Amnesia - Chapter 23

Mumu went to check on the Hero, who had yet to return from retrieving his “forgotten item.”

She had thought it might be something serious because of how long it was taking, but it seemed her concern was unnecessary.

“What’s this? No need for me to step in?”

“Oh, Master.”

The Hero was reclining in the shade of a pile of defeated enemies, cooling off.

There were about ten golems in total. While their size was similar, the remnants of powerful magical energy lingering in them were quite clear. Though the giant golem she had defeated earlier was larger, Mumu judged that these smaller ones were likely stronger individually.

“What about Red Hair-chan?”

“She cried herself to sleep.”

“A child, then?”

“She is a child.”

“True enough.”

Mumu casually picked up a rock at her feet and twirled it between her fingers.

“Taking out this many on your own is impressive.”

“I didn’t want anyone interfering with your time with Red Hair-chan. Besides, you’re much better at handling situations like that than I am, Master.”

“There you go again, using your Master so conveniently.”

“My apologies.”

The Hero brushed the dust off his clothes, smiling wryly.

“…When we first met, I thought you’d gotten rusty. But it looks like your instincts are back.”

“I don’t know about that. I still have a long way to go.”

“That takes me back.”

“Huh?”

“You said the same thing when you first became my disciple.”

“I did?”

“You did.”

Mumu recalled that day.

The victorious boy had picked up Mumu, who couldn’t move after her defeat, and carried her out of the arena at full speed, abandoning the prize money and all other responsibilities. He said he thought that if they’d stayed in the ring, Mumu might be killed.

It was unbelievable. He’d fought so fiercely, risking his life, yet he had run away without taking the money. Mumu had asked him what he truly wanted.

────”I wanted you.”

The boy had said it with an infuriatingly innocent expression. He needed a master who could help him understand his body and grow stronger. “You’re my real prize for winning. You’re the only one I want as my master,” he had passionately insisted.

Frankly, she had been dumbfounded.

A defeated opponent couldn’t possibly become someone’s master—it made no sense. What could she possibly teach him when she had lost? She rejected him repeatedly, but the boy was stubborn and unrelenting. In the end, Mumu gave in.

Though she agreed, Mumu had never taught anyone martial arts before. Left with no other choice, she reflected on her own master’s teachings and had the boy train the same way she had.

As a result, within just three months, the boy shattered a massive boulder that had taken Mumu an entire year to break.

When her first disciple turned to her with a truly joyous expression, Mumu felt something warm welling up in her chest.

The boy opened his hand wide, his fist—so tightly clenched until that moment—relaxing joyfully. With a smile, he extended his hand.

────”Thank you, Master.”

Without thinking, Mumu naturally took his hand and gripped it tightly.

It was warm.

Looking back, it had been the same back then.

The day Mumu first broke a boulder, her master—like a fool—had been overjoyed. Laughing like a child, he’d exclaimed things like, “You did well with such a small body!” and “It took me three years to do that!” After celebrating like an idiot, he had quietly extended his rock-like hand.

────”What’s that?”

────”Hmph, so you don’t know yet. This is a gesture of thanks.”

────”Thanks?”

────”Yes. When people meet and part, or when they show goodwill or acknowledge someone’s efforts, they take each other’s hands like this.”

In her memory, her master’s smile overlapped perfectly with the boy’s smile.

A fist is used to strike, its hardness meant to shatter enemies.

But at the same time, when people understand each other, their hands come together in what is called a “handshake.”

Joined hands, 900 years of time passed, and Mumu Rusetta finally found it. After more than 900 years, she shed her second set of tears.

What her master had left her that day had always been right there, so close,

────”Thank you.”

—held within her own hand.

—

“Are you leaving already?”

“Yes. I’m worried about further pursuers.”

“I understand.”

They exchanged a brief handshake.

But that wasn’t enough for Mumu, so she casually smashed part of the pile of golem remains the Hero had stacked.

“M-Master?”

“Wait a moment.”

Using the rubble, now reduced to mere rocks, she stacked them casually to create a small platform for herself to stand on. From the top, she looked down at her disciple.

“Yes. This is good.”

Very good. For the first time, her usually stoic expression softened into a natural smile.

She thought this must have been how her master viewed her from his perspective.

The Hero always patted Sage-chan on the head. Earlier, he had even patted Red Hair-chan’s head. If all he did was pat others, it wouldn’t be fair. So just this once, she thought, she would be the one to do it. Mumu gently placed her hand on the Hero’s dull red hair.

“Don’t overexert yourself on your journey. Be careful.”

“…Master.”

“What is it?”

“You’re much cuter when you smile.”

“…Cheeky.”

For some reason, it felt a little embarrassing. In front of others, she had always insisted on being called “Master.”

During the six months they had trained together, until the boy could break the boulder, Mumu hadn’t let him call her “Master.” She had stubbornly said she didn’t need a foolish disciple who couldn’t break a rock.

But maybe, just maybe, she had liked hearing him call her “Mumu-san.”

Human lives always come to an end.

Just as human lives are finite, love is fleeting. Love eventually fades away.

Even so, if the feelings of loving someone and caring for the world could be eternal… Mumu Rusetta saw it not in the fists they had clashed but in the hands they had clasped.

And so, she decided to love him. To give him the same love her precious father figure had once shown her.

She loved the Hero who saved the world.

She knew many others harbored feelings for him.

Precisely because of that, Mumu Rusetta quietly thought:

Love is not something to be compared. Love comes in many forms.

What this body, which lives on through eternal time, can do is love him, love them, and wish for their happiness and the paths they walk.

And so.

────My love, unchanging for eternity.