act16d5

And how he added the word 'risen' to the painting's title.

Head Priest...

The lands he walked were filled with starvation.

All that he could see, hear, and tell were nothing but tragedy.

With each step, the young Higashi monk paused to recite the sutras.

Time passes like a flowing river, and this moment is everlasting.

On the day I left the monastery, my head priest bestowed upon me my name, Saga.

That's right.

He had seen the coldness of mankind, yet he was never disheartened. Even the collapse of Mount Sky did not sway him.

After the young wandering monk made his way back to Higashi, he decided to take in a group of children with nowhere to turn to. He built a monastery in the mountains, and that's how he became the head priest you often speak of.

It's not that uncommon of a story.

The crude mounts had not fallen... That was the meaning the head priest sought to give the painting.

Very well! Then, in his stead, I shall see all the sights there are to see in this vast world!

Well, as you please.

Now that you got that weight off your shoulders, it's time for you to leave.

W-Wait, master!

This is merely the original source of my perplexity. Having traveled the scrolls some ten years, I am afraid there are certain things I must ascertain for my worries to dissipate.

Ask away.

But know that this is the last chance I'm giving you. I'm not fond of blabbering people.

The inhabitants of the paintings. Are they real or not?

That's an interesting question. You know they are from the painting. Why ask if they are real or not?

Oft did I nod off when we studied our scriptures, yet in my languidness I was able to constant seek out truth... For ten years have I walked the landscapes in thy painting, though I yet remain befuddled.

Pray tell, what is real?

...Real.

When we look at those who are unreal in the painting, as those who are real, we are able to laugh off all the fake lives and deaths depicted therein.

But if we are yet inhabitants of a painting, and we will one day vanish into the thin air, would you still be able to remain so calm?

All men will one day cease to be. There is little reason to be tormented by that which is inevitable. By approaching all things from the heart and living my life naturally and freely, there is naught to fear.

Man is not necessarily free. Everything that I've drawn, be it real or otherwise, is merely my way of interrogating myself.

Man is naturally free.

Wrong. Both you and I are habitants of a painting.

You seek to solve this problem by yourself, yet you know not a thing about yourself. How do you mean to seek truth?

In the end, what is real, and what is false? Are you sure you can truly tell them apart?

And why take it so seriously?

So thou meanst... I am yet within the painting right this moment?

...You've truly left my scrolls, that I can assure you.

I'm only asking, how do you prove that these landscapes before your eyes are not yet another boring painting scroll?

The roads you've trodden, the people you've met, their births and deaths, and their setbacks in life. All of these things might merely be events drawn at the whim of an artist without any particular meaning assigned.

The so-called reality that you people spend an entire lifetime looking for is yet another fantasy.

We are merely characters in a scroll. The viewers see the events that transpire in the painting and either applaud or criticize its contents.

Our lives are but a fantasy, like a dewdrop or lightning, leaving not a trace in the end.

Let's stop here. You're wasting both your time and mine, and it's getting on my nerves.

I will find a chance to pluck the other ones out. You should get going.

Lava came a long way solely for the chance to meet thee... yet thou wouldst not grant her an audience?

That's none of your business.

You don't know why they came, so stay out of it.

But—

—Don't push your luck, Saga.

One more word, and I'll have you truly regret it.

But I promised Lava to present this to thee, at the very least.

You—This...?!

Found you...!