“...Kallen, do you know why I look after you?”
At my noticeably softened voice, Kallen let her stiffened shoulders drop. Then she quietly shook her head.
I pulled out an old black-and-white reel I’d shoved into a corner of my mind.
“I was just like you. My parents died when I was nineteen.”
At my first admission of something personal, a crack appeared in Kallen’s expression. She hesitated, then sat back down obediently on the sofa.
I continued as plainly as possible, my voice flat and without inflection.
“My parents ran an orphanage. They had an only son, but they loved the orphanage kids more.”
“...My younger siblings are in an orphanage too.”
Kallen whispered softly, her voice soaked in gloom. Even so, she listened closely to my story.
I, too, slowly sank into my childhood memories.
My parents were what people called good people. They were praised endlessly for being so full of love.
But there was exactly one person they failed to be good to.
More precisely, they failed to be good parents.
I was walking home after playing alone at the playground all day. My father—who had never once really played with me—was lifting the orphanage kids up like airplanes.
What I felt then wasn’t sadness or anger, but resignation. At a very young age, I’d given up on receiving my parents’ affection.
The time I finally changed my way of thinking was when I turned nineteen.
“I don’t know how orphanages work here, but where I was, once kids turned nineteen, they were made independent. New children kept coming in, and resources were limited, so once you were old enough to earn your own living, you were sent out.”
The kids who turned nineteen were pushed out into the world without any preparation. At best, they were given enough money to survive two or three months before leaving the warm enclosure.
Watching my peers, I felt relief.
I might not have received enough love, but the fact that I was still under my parents’ protection felt like a blessing.
“Did the kids who left... do well?”
Kallen was deeply immersed now. Fidgeting with her neatly folded hands, she worried about the children in my story.
I gave a bitter smile.
“Most of them did fine. Even if it was hard, they adapted somehow.”
“Ah... that’s a relief.”
“But not everyone did well.”
Kallen tensed with me. In the quiet room, the sound of her swallowing echoed.
Faced with memories that were hard to revisit, I paused for a moment.
Most of the dozens of kids who left the orphanage became independent. Some even came back to greet my parents during holidays.
But like any group, there were exceptions.
And one of them was the worst possible case.
There was a man who, even after leaving the orphanage, kept demanding money. He barely lasted a year before crossing a line that should never be crossed.
“My parents were murdered by a man who grew up in that orphanage.”
“H-how could he... repay kindness like that....”
“Humans sometimes repay kindness with hatred.”
Just as Kallen couldn’t forget the dragon who burned her village, I couldn’t forget his face either.
I saw the man who killed my parents exactly once. He said one thing to me in the detention cell.
After turning me into an orphan overnight, he smiled like it amused him.
“He told me to try living a life without parents.”
“Ah....”
“Haha. But... once I did, it was the worst. So bad I didn’t even have time to grieve.”
With the death of the headmaster couple, the orphanage shut down.
My parents’ inheritance and insurance money were scattered among relatives I’d never seen before.
But there was something even harder than that.
“Nineteen is an awkward age. People tell you you’re grown, so stop whining. Then they turn around and say you’re just a kid who doesn’t know anything. What are you even supposed to do?”
A self-mocking laugh slipped out.
Then I heard a sniffle from across the room. When I looked up, Kallen was crying in my place.
“Why are you crying?”
“Hic... h-hic, it’s just... it’s too much....”
I stared quietly at the hand Kallen used to wipe her tears. She’d done a lot of menial work since she was young, but her hand was still small and soft.
As expected, I couldn’t let that hand hold a sword.
“Kallen. When I was nineteen, I prayed every night.”
“Hic... w-what kind of prayer?”
When I first met Kallen, I’d thought she was just noisy and annoying. Once I realized she was sharp and useful, I’d planned to put her to work.
And when I learned about her unfortunate circumstances...
I wanted to look away from a misery I couldn’t take responsibility for.
“I prayed that there would be just one adult who would look after me.”
In the end, that never happened.
Maybe my inability to turn away from unfortunate children was something I’d inherited from the parents I hated so much.
“Kallen, there’s no special reason I look after you. An adult taking care of a child is just how it’s supposed to be.”
“Hic... hic, ngh....”
“So don’t ever talk about repaying me, or pulling your weight for me.”
Kallen buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking.
I quietly stood up, sat beside her, and took the sword she’d hidden behind her back.
“If ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) you understand, then please listen to me. I’ll give this back to you when you become an adult.”
“Hic, Ceryl....”
The sword Varen had given her was luxurious, both the scabbard and the hilt.
I set it far away, then gently patted her trembling shoulders.
“Stop crying. I didn’t say all that to make you cry....”
“Ngh, hic, ngh....”
Mixed in with the girl’s sobbing was a sound I didn’t want to hear. I turned with a deep scowl to see Margon facing away, his massive shoulders shaking.
“Hiyung... hi, hiyuung....”
“Myaang... m-mm, Miyaang....”
And now that I looked again, Rami and Miya were peeking out from the gap in the sofa where they’d hidden.
They must have heard everything I said—tears rolled down from their tiny eyes.
“...What a flood of tears.”
At the mournful quartet, I scratched my cheek awkwardly and looked at Varen. Instead of looking sad, he was trembling, his fist clenched tight.
“Is that human dead.”
“.......”
“So he’s still alive. I’ll find him for sure and burn him until not a single hair remains.”
I had no idea how he planned to cross worlds to do that.
Fine. Do whatever you want. I gave Varen a faint smile and a nod.
Then I grabbed the back of Kallen’s neck and forced her upright as she sobbed like she couldn’t breathe.
“So, Kallen. You’re going back to your hometown.”
“Hic, b-but... don’t say thaaat....”
“Listen to me. Somewhere safe—”
“Hic, my hometown isn’t safe either!”
Even while crying, Kallen shouted back. Before I could stop her, she wrapped her arms around my waist and buried her face in my chest.
Caught off guard, I glanced at Varen without thinking. I’d expected him to flare up and charge over, but surprisingly, he didn’t react at all.
Instead, I narrowed my eyes and tilted my head. It was absurd that his jealousy apparently applied only to males.
“Hic, did you f-forget? My hometown... it all burned down too...!”
“That’s....”
“And on top of that, hic, the place where my siblings are, ngh, the army... the Rebels...!”
A word that snapped my eyes wide open appeared.
I grabbed Kallen’s shoulders and forcibly pulled her back. Staring into her tear-soaked eyes, I repeated the word I’d just heard.
“The Rebels? You just said the Rebels—”
“Waaah! Hug me!”
“O-okay, okay.”
With a shriek that felt like it would shatter my eardrums, I hugged Kallen again. In no time at all, my chest was soaked.
Just sitting and talking like this, my stamina felt like it was draining rapidly. With a weak hand, I patted Kallen’s back.
“Kallen, what do you mean about the Rebels?”
“Hic, the Rebels... attacked the orphanage, ngh, to steal food....”
I let out a low hum and closed my mouth.
As expected, humans were multifaceted creatures. Calling for monster liberation while simultaneously looting humans.
As I tried to organize my thoughts about what to do next, an unwanted, sniffling voice added another line.
“Snff, w-what? Kallen, wasn’t your hometown in the north?”
“Hic, y-yeah....”
“The Rebels, snff, went all the way north too?”
A bearded man covered in tears and snot shuffled closer. I twisted my face in disgust and pulled a handkerchief from my pocket, tossing it at him.
Catching the cloth, Margon smiled sheepishly and blew his nose loudly. I frowned at the revolting sight.
“Don’t give that back. If you do, you’re dead.”
At my icy voice, Margon replied awkwardly.
“I think I may have... snff, misunderstood you.”
“.......”
“You’re a very warm person.”
