Location: Whispering Glen Village – Early Morning
A gentle mist curled through the thatched rooftops of Whispering Glen, a quiet village nestled among rolling hills and lavender fields. Itsuki Hiroto—now going by the simple name "Keisuke Ogawa," herb‑collector extraordinaire—stepped into the dawn light, satchel on one shoulder, robe replaced by a loose linen tunic and rugged trousers.
He inhaled the fragrant air: wild thyme, chamomile, and dew‑kissed mint. Home, he thought, savoring the peace.
At the village green, elderly women tended potted herbs in neat rows, murmuring blessings over basil and valerian. Children chased a wayward goat through the hedgerows. A stray cat mewed at Hiroto's feet, weaving between his sandals.
"Good morning, Mr. Ogawa!" called a stout woman in a linen apron, setting a basket of fresh eggs at her stall. "Your mint's looking especially vibrant today."
Hiroto smiled, tipping his wide‑brimmed straw hat. "Thank you, Miss Haruko. The frost was light last night." He knelt, plucked a leaf, and inhaled its scent. "Perfect for sleep‑aid tea."
Miss Haruko nodded, gathering egg cartons. "You're a blessing to this village. Best herb‑collector we've ever had."
He bowed politely. "I'm just doing my job."
---
Location: Ogawa Cottage – Mid‑Morning
His cottage—smaller than his previous abode—sat at the village's edge, surrounded by herb gardens teeming with rosemary, lavender, and rare moonwort. Inside, shelves of dried plants lined the walls; clay jars held tinctures labeled in neat script.
Hiroto hummed as he arranged fresh bundles of chamomile to dry. Sera's note lay pinned to the wooden beam above his workbench:
> "If you need us, call the Horn.
Otherwise—sleep well."
He chuckled softly, unpacking the Key to the Citadel Gate, now repurposed as a paperweight. No politics… just plants. He poured a bowl of Sunrise Serenity Tea and settled at the table, sipping slowly.
---
Location: Village Apothecary Shop – Noon
At midday, Hiroto visited Madam Saito's Apothecary—a tidy brick shop fragrant with incense and dried herbs hanging from the ceiling. A bell tinkled as he entered.
Madam Saito, bespectacled and bustling, peered over her glasses. "Ogawa‑san! Just in time—these villagers are clamoring for your sleep‑elixir blend. Sales have tripled since you arrived."
Hiroto's cheeks warmed. "I merely share what grows here." He rifled through his satchel, producing a small vial. "Is this enough valerian?"
Madam Saito examined the vial. "Perfect. Your blends have a… special touch. Everyone calls you 'The Silent Sage.'"
He granted a modest nod. "May it bring them rest."
A queue of neighbors pressed into the shop doorway, clutching baskets of produce:
> "Two pints of moonwort tincture, please."
"May I have that 'Dreamleaf' honey?"
"My grandson's colds—will your mint help his cough?"
Hiroto set to work, measuring spoons of herbs, pouring milky honey, filling vials with practiced ease. No grand councils, no ringing trumpets—just the warm glow of community and purpose.
---
Location: Whispering Glen Square – Afternoon
Outside, Hiroto paused by the stone well, gazing at the sunlit hills. Children chased butterflies; an old fiddler played a lilting tune beneath an oak. The world, he realized, had indeed moved on without him: kingdoms had advanced trade pacts, guilds had forged new alliances, and the artifact‑keepers sealed away the last of the Boss's echoes.
But here, life pulsed gently, unhurried. Villagers greeted him warmly, farmers offered home‑baked bread in gratitude, and the apothecary buzzed with customers.
A young boy named Shun toddled up, holding a fistful of daisies. "Mr. Ogawa, I picked these for you. For sleep dreams."
Hiroto knelt, accepting the flowers. "Thank you, Shun. They're beautiful." He tucked them behind his ear. The boy beamed, then scampered off.
Hiroto straightened, brushing his hands together. This is enough.
---
Location: Cottage Garden – Late Afternoon
By late afternoon, Hiroto returned to his herb garden. The sun cast long shadows over neat rows of plants. He pulled a small watering can from the porch, humming as he nourished rosemary sprigs and tarragon.
Suddenly, a soft knock echoed at his gate. He set down the can and opened the gate to find Virelya—her armor replaced by simple traveling leathers—standing with two cups of Twilight Chamomile Tea.
She smiled. "Thought you might be thirsty."
Hiroto's grin lit the dusk. "You sure you found the right cottage?"
Virelya stepped in, closing the gate. "Sera said you needed company." She handed him a cup. "How… is life?"
He exhaled, sipping. "Tranquil. I'm just… planting and blending and napping."
Virelya nodded, settling on a nearby bench. "I envy you. The world's still as crazy as ever—Guildmaster of Mayhem has nothing on lobbyists these days."
Hiroto laughed. "At least here, the only lobby is for lavender."
They shared a companionable silence, sipping tea as the sky blushed pink and gold.
---
Location: Ogawa Cottage Bedroom – Night
Night draped the cottage in quiet. Hiroto prepared for bed: lining jars neatly, rolling up fresh towels, and closing windows to keep out the chill. He changed into simple linen sleep‑robes and placed the Wake‑Call Charms beside his pillow: small carved tokens to ward off nightmares… and political summons.
He paused at the doorway as Sera and Virelya shook hands, murmuring plans to visit at dawn.
Virelya waved softly. "Sleep well, Keisuke."
Hiroto nodded, voice drowsy. "Thank you, Virelya… Sera." He closed the door, bolt sliding into place.
Reclining on his straw mattress—freshly covered with a lavender‑scented sheet—Hiroto placed his hands behind his head and gazed at the small wooden shelf lined with herb jars.
He yawned, deeply, luxuriously, and whispered, "Goodnight, world."
---
Location: Ogawa Cottage – Moments Later
In the hush that followed, Hiroto's breathing slowed. The only sound was the soft rustle of leaves outside and the faint ticking of the wall clock. In that moment, the clerk who became a savior, a slap‑hero, the Sleeper King, and a divine oddity at every turn, found his ultimate victory:
Quiet.
His final thought slipped into a smile: Let tomorrow's world worry about itself. I have tea…and sleep. And that is enough.
With that, Itsuki Hiroto—aka Keisuke Ogawa—drifted into the deepest, dream‑laden slumber of all.