TFLB 10

Chapter 10

Unlike the cold and blunt attitude I had toward the men, my voice softened when I faced the child.

I reached out my hand, and the boy stared at it intently.

“Come with me.”

“….”

But the child still didn’t respond or move.

“Hey, you little brat! Stand up—!”

I shot a cold glare at the shorter man who continued to curse at the boy despite my warning not to touch him. The man immediately fell silent.

“Let’s go.”

I smiled slightly to ease the child’s tension.

And it seemed to work—finally, the boy reached out his small, delicate hand and took mine.

“Thank you.”

I thanked him as I gently helped him to his feet.

Up close, he looked to be around twelve years old.

As I guided him along, I noticed the two men were still watching us, not leaving.

“You’re not going?”

“Huh? Ah, yes. We’re going!”

The men quickly left.

Once they were out of sight, I finally took a proper look at the boy.

He didn’t smell bad, so he had probably been bathed regularly, but his clothes were worn and tattered.

The bruises and dirt on his body made it clear he had been kicked to the ground earlier.

I realized I hadn’t heard him speak even once.

‘Could it be that he can’t talk?’

That was a possibility, so I looked him in the eyes, carefully parted my lips, and asked:

“Are you hungry?”

I even mimicked eating to show him.

“….”

But still, he didn’t answer.

“Could it be… you can’t talk?”

I asked in a gentle voice, with a soft expression.

“…No.”

Finally, a voice came from the boy—clear and young, not yet broken by puberty.

“You have a pretty voice. Why weren’t you answering?”

“….”

He pressed his lips shut again.

‘Wow… this is going to be hard.’

I guessed why he was behaving this way, so I decided to be more patient. I gently took his hand and led him forward.

Fortunately, he followed silently.

I turned the path we were taking toward the inn and then redirected us back to the bustling festival street.

I figured he would need new clothes and something to eat.

As we walked slowly, I suddenly felt the boy stop tugging my hand.

I looked back and saw he had frozen in place.

“What’s wrong?”

“Where… are we going?”

He was just now curious, it seemed.

But his expression was dark.

“It’s the festival. We can eat delicious food and get you some new clothes to wear.”

“….”

He was unusually quiet for a child.

Of course, not all children are talkative, but still…

It seemed he was slowly starting to trust me a bit, so I tried speaking gently.

“You don’t want to go?”

“Why…”

“Huh?”

“Why… did you buy me?”

“That’s…”

Honestly, I didn’t have a proper reason. It had been a very impulsive decision.

“You signaled me to save you.”

So I half-lied and answered.

“…Huh?”

“Wasn’t that it? You definitely looked at me, asking me to save you.”

The boy’s expression instantly shifted to one of confusion and disbelief.

He looked at me like he couldn’t understand, but I just smiled faintly and moved on.

“What’s your name?”

I quickly changed the subject and asked for his name.

“…I don’t have one.”

Hearing that was shocking.

A person… with no name?

I tilted my head and asked again.

“You don’t have a name?”

“Yes… no name, just a number.”

“A number?”

“Yes, in the circus, we’re called by numbers. I… was number 5.”

“Number 5… I see. How old are you?”

“I don’t really know…”

Every question was met with uncertainty. Something was clearly wrong.

“When did you join the circus?”

It felt like an interrogation, but I needed some information to take him to an orphanage safely.

I tried to ask carefully, staying within a line that wouldn’t upset him.

“About a month… I think.”

“A month?”

So they made him walk the tightrope after only a month? That’s brutal.

“Where were you before that? An orphanage? How did you end up in the circus?”

“…I don’t really remember.”

“You don’t remember?”

“Yes. Since I started remembering, I’ve been in the circus. I don’t remember anything before that…”

Judging from his words, it seemed he had wandered without memories before being captured by the circus.

“I see… Are you hungry? Let’s get some food first. Is there anything you like?”

“I don’t know…”

“Then do you like skewers? Want to try one?”

At his uncertain reply, I thought of the sausage I had eaten earlier. It wasn’t free that made it good—it really tasted amazing. I wanted the boy to try it too.

He slightly nodded, and we headed toward the skewer stand with the big cauldron.

“Welcome! Oh? You’re back again?”

The friendly owner remembered me. With so many people passing by, his memory was remarkable.

“I wanted this child to try the sausage we had earlier—it was so delicious.”

“Our sausages are amazing. Let’s see…”

The owner picked out sausages identical to the ones I had eaten and handed them to us.

There were two—one for the boy and one for me.

“I’m fine. I ate earlier, so it’s enough.”

I politely declined. I felt awkward returning for more free food, and I couldn’t eat it again.

“Then, would you like to try something else instead?”

“Huh? No!”

Even though I said it was okay, the owner handed me a thick skewer with a piece of meat.

“Go ahead, try it. Seeing my customers enjoy it makes me happiest.”

The owner smiled as if this truly was his joy.

Feeling it would be rude to refuse, I took the skewer from his hand.

“Thank you. I’ll enjoy it. Porta Devia.”

This time, I said the phrase he had taught me, smiling slightly.

“Porta Devia. Enjoy it too.”

“Th-thank you…”

The boy nodded in gratitude, his small voice barely audible. His eyes sparkled for a brief moment.

I found him cute and gently stroked his hair.

Startled by the unexpected touch, the boy looked up at me with wide eyes.

“Oh, sorry. Did I upset you by touching you without asking?”

“No, no… it’s… because I’m dirty…”

“Dirty?”

“No! I—I’m dirty…”