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CHJAPTER 04
“I’m not weak!”
The moment he said that, I realized I’d made a mistake.
I had just hurt the pride of a growing teenager.
Kyle clenched both fists.
‘Aww, our baby. Feeling upset?’
His face made me want to pat him and cheer him up.
“I’m just… not fully recovered yet.”
I looked at Kyle’s clothes.
The gray uniform with a white collar from the orphanage.
The boys wore pants, the girls wore long dresses down to the ankles.
Cheap and practical gray linen clothes.
That loose uniform fluttered in the warm wind around Kyle’s skinny frame.
He looked like a scarecrow.
Trying to help us in that condition must’ve made him feel even more disappointed in himself.
“That’s right. Usually, if you’ve been in bed for ten days, even walking is difficult.”
I quickly tried to ease Kyle’s mood.
“And yet you crossed the farm fence and walked here. That alone is amazing.”
“…Really?”
“Of course. You’re healing pretty fast.”
Kyle’s face was half doubtful.
“I’m recovering fast?”
“Sure. We thought you were dead, but now you’re alive and well. That’s incredible.”
“…I see.”
Finally, the red embarrassment faded from his face.
“When I’m fully healed, I’ll definitely help.”
“Alright.”
“Yeah. Promise you’ll help! I’ll be waiting!”
Anne raised her fist and shook it in the air.
But Anne was also a skinny freckled girl.
Right now, even a single punch from Anne could probably knock Kyle down.
Anne, please don’t wave your fists in front of him. Just in case you accidentally hit him.
After Kyle regained a bit of his pride and left, Anne and I went back to working in the field.
“I don’t think he’s a bad kid.”
I immediately agreed with Anne’s words.
“Yeah. No kid is born bad. It’s just the way adults raise them.”
—
By evening, Anne and I were late to the dining hall because we had been helping on the farm and had to wash up.
“Elpi, don’t spill while eating.”
“Can I drink more milk?”
“Waaah!”
“Dad! She spat on my bread!”
It was chaos.
Usually, older sisters like Anne and I fed the younger ones first and ate later.
But since farm work delayed us, by the time we arrived, everything was already a mess.
Anne and I pulled up chairs on both sides of the table to keep the little ones under control.
“See? I told you to hold your spoon like this.”
“Remember, only one bottle of milk a day.”
We comforted the younger kids while feeding them.
Grrr—
My stomach let out a sad growl.
I drank some water to fill myself while still looking after the children.
That’s when I felt someone’s gaze from the end of the table.
I turned my head and met Kyle’s eyes.
I smiled and waved at him. Kyle awkwardly waved back.
‘He had so many wounds… is he eating alright?’
From medical dramas I’d seen, scars from knives revealed a lot.
Whether it was an accident, self-harm, or an attack meant to kill.
Kyle’s scars had clearly targeted vital points.
It was only luck that the blade had missed and cut beside them.
Vincent had stitched him up, but he wasn’t capable of deeper surgery.
If Kyle had internal injuries, eating would’ve been a problem.
I watched him carefully.
Slowly, he lifted the spoon and sipped his soup. No problems.
If eating had been impossible, Vincent would’ve noticed during his stay.
In this world, the only way to heal serious injuries like organ damage or multiple fractures was holy water or a priest’s divine healing.
That’s why not everyone survived accidents.
Holy water was expensive—only the rich could afford it.
‘Even this world the author created follows capitalism too well.’
After we finished feeding the younger kids, Anne gave me some soup, bread, and warm ratatouille.
I sat down beside Kyle with my plate.
“Does it taste alright?”
Kyle nodded slightly.
“You’re fifteen, Kyle?” Anne asked cheerfully.
Kyle’s eyes turned sharp with suspicion.
“…Yes.”
At least he answered.
I sighed inside.
Children without protection always carried deep wounds in their hearts.
Distrust. Walls around themselves.
Time was the only cure.
Anne and I focused on eating since we were starving from farm work.
Then I noticed Kyle’s eyes on my plate.
Or more exactly—on my bread.
Reading the hunger in his gaze, I quickly asked,
“Kyle, do you want some more?”
Kyle looked surprised.
“Can I really eat more?”
“Of course.”
I took his bowl and filled it with half portions of soup, bread, and ratatouille.
“Thank you.”
Kyle picked up his spoon again.
The way he lifted it to his mouth looked graceful.
For a moment, the wooden spoon in the hands of this thin, frail boy looked like silverware.
‘He must’ve been taught table manners properly.’
Most kids in the orphanage lost their parents young, so they lacked basic manners.
Teaching them was always hard.
But Kyle’s refined way of eating was refreshing to see.
“By the way, Suella,” Anne suddenly asked, “why do you speak so politely to Kyle?”
I blinked.
“Oh, you’re right.”
I was sixteen. Kyle was fifteen.
I’d started with polite speech at the clinic, since he was a stranger, and just kept going.
But now he was one of us.
“Kyle, from now on, I’ll speak casually.”
I didn’t need his permission.
“I’m your older sister, after all.”
Besides, Kyle had already dropped formal speech first.
I was only realizing it now.
But Kyle’s face clearly showed dislike.
‘So he hates being treated like a kid?’
Children who’d never known love often rejected kindness, finding it uncomfortable.
Kyle might be the same.
Still, as someone with the soul of a thirty-year-old, I felt pity for kids like him.
“It’s okay to act spoiled, you know.”
I said it firmly.
Kyle wouldn’t stay in the orphanage for long anyway.
Even if he entered late, once he became an adult, he’d have to leave the following spring.
Kids born in winter often grew sad, counting days until they had to leave.
But kids with spring birthdays got to stay a whole year longer.
Kyle stayed quiet.
I grabbed my milk bottle.
“Want more milk?”
I decided to win him over with the power of capitalism.
“Don’t want it?”
His eyes wavered.
I poured half of my milk into his empty bottle.
“Fine, if you don’t want it.”
Kyle didn’t refuse this time.
He quietly drank it.
‘Nobody can resist milk.’
Cold milk stored in the underground canals was heavenly.
Even I, who barely drank milk in my past life, loved it here.
Watching Kyle gulp it down warmed my heart.
‘Is this what a mom feels like?’
I’d never seen a boy this skinny. Just watching him eat made me happy.
“Sharing milk is true love,” Anne said.
Kyle turned his eyes toward her.
“Milk is love. Don’t you know?”
She was quoting the orphanage’s catchphrase I’d made popular.
Kyle obviously didn’t know it yet.
I was about to tease Anne when Kyle murmured softly.
“…Love?”
His cheeks and ears turned red.
“Is that… what it means?”
It looked like he still couldn’t trust others completely.
But Anne’s words seemed to open his heart a little.
At least he was answering and talking now.
“Yes. That’s what it means.”
I wanted to teach Kyle about warmth and human connection.
That’s what made people truly human.
Even though I wasn’t from this world, I wanted to protect the orphanage and this city.
Because of attachment.
Because love made life worth living.
“…I see.”
Kyle’s eyes flicked to the half-full milk bottle again.
“Yes, that’s what it means.”
I gently patted his head.
His shoulders twitched in surprise.
But he didn’t avoid my hand.
‘Easy one.’
In just a day, he had already opened up this much.
Some kids cried alone in corners for months.
I smiled.
At that moment, I couldn’t have known—
That the half bottle of milk I gave him would one day come back… as a proposal.
—
