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Rating:
Teen And Up Audiences
Archive Warning:
Major Character Death
Categories:
F/MGen
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無職転生 ～異世界行ったら本気だす～ - 理不尽な孫の手 | Mushoku Tensei: Isekai Ittara Honki Dasu - Rifujin na MagonoteFate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Characters:
Emiya ShirouZenith GreyratPaul GreyratRoxy MigurdiaSylphiette (Mushoku Tensei)Eris GreyratHitogami (Mushoku Tensei)Orsted (Mushoku Tensei)
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English
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Published:2024-03-07Updated:2026-01-04Words:235,397Chapters:18/?Comments:157Kudos:445Bookmarks:127Hits:30,711
Of Swords and Redemption
Servant_Saber
Chapter 3
Chapter Text
The rhythmic sound of steel on wood echoed within the empty room. The hands that meticulously and methodically moved up and down on the cutting board had a mind of their own, the body they were attached to not being truly present. My thoughts were elsewhere, as they always tended to be nowadays.
Cooking had been one of my more favorable past times at one point. It was a basic necessity of life, preparing food for consumption, but I had found that doing it for others brought about a small sense of satisfaction, one that helped satiate the constant emptiness within me.
Of course, that enjoyment had turned into nothing but bitterness on my lips in this new world. It had nothing to do with cooking itself; most activities had lost what little flavor they previously held. I was simply going through the motions right now, mindlessly and robotically following the procedures within my mind.
I didn't enjoy cooking, not in the slightest anymore, but even unsatisfactory actions had their use. I had once sworn to help out around the household, a small repayment to the Greyrats for having taken care of me all these years. The food they gave me, the clothes that covered me, and the roof that sheltered me were all theirs, and even if the exchange was still unwholly unequal, these small gestures helped to tip the scales. Thankfully, my skills were still up to par.
By taking care of such menial and mundane tasks, I hoped to help alleviate some of the stress and burden off Lilia and Zenith. It was mainly for Zenith's benefit admittedly, the poor woman showing more and more signs of being overwhelmed. Whatever demons she was battling in her mind, she was clearly losing her fight. The dark bags underneath her eyes and unkempt, frizzy hair were now near-permanent features marring her once lovely countenance. She was staying up later as well, my training sessions having been delayed more often due to being able to sense her pacing erratically around the house, patrolling the first floor like a restless dog. Inevitably, she would return back to her room, or on the rare occasion, pass out slumped on a chair she dragged over to the window, her position indicating she had been stargazing before slumber had overtaken her.
It was a concerning issue at this point. I wasn't sure how much longer she could endure the unforgiving circumstances thrust upon her. Having to parent a child all by her lonesome was an impossible task, one that she had taken on regardless. It was an admirable effort, but ultimately, she was only human, and without the man she had sworn herself to, she was only one half of a whole.
Paul's absence wasn't the true cause of this dilemma either. For all his faults, and there were definitely plenty of them, I couldn't condemn his actions. Zenith had the benefit of having carried me for her pregnancy, and that physical bond was one of the foundations for her motherly relationship with me. It wasn't something that could be easily described or replicated. Paul didn't have the luxury of motherly instincts to guide his feelings, so my alienating appearance wasn't something he could easily overlook.
And perhaps that was the most tragic aspect of this issue. There was no villain here, no evil doer to pin the blame on. The Greyrats were simply humans following what they believed was right, and their actions made logical and emotional sense from their perspectives. I couldn't judge them for anything, the two parents just trying to navigate an unprecedented and unsolvable problem.
I held up my right hand, the kitchen knife looking oversized in my four-year-old hands. Calloused fingers turned the knife over until the flat of the blade was directed towards me, my reflection shining in the sharpened steel of the tool.
My appearance was becoming more and more pronounced, my soul shaping this body to a near mirror image of my previous one. The tufts of auburn hair that had created a divide within the household had grown out a few inches over the years, and now a crown of crimson strands sat on top of my head.
This form was the cause of so much unnecessary trouble. Even by doing nothing, I managed to make matters worse, throwing the entire order of things into disarray. In another time, I'm sure Paul and Zenith were happily living out their lives with a normal son, but fate had decided to curse them in this life.
Fingers twirled, and the knife blurred in a spin until its end was now pointed squarely at me, the sharp edge resting dangerously against my neck. One quick flick and it would be all over. The neck held all sorts of veins and arteries; even the slightest of movements could end up severing any one of the vital lifelines and cutting this reincarnation short. It was an alarmingly tempting prospect. One troublesome life ended for me, and one problematic child removed for the Greyrats. It was a fair exchange, a rare situation with both sides greatly benefiting from the exchange.
I sighed, putting my hand down and stabbing the knife into the cutting board.
I couldn't do that. I still had answers to find and a journey to complete. If Illya and I reunited prematurely, I'm confident that she would kick me back down to the land of the living under the pretense of "cheating".
Realizing that lamenting my current circumstances would lead to nowhere, I turned my attention back to the task at hand. An array of meats and vegetables were sorted into various plates and bowls in front of me. Thankfully, most of this new world's flora and fauna were the same or had similar equivalents, so the sudden transition didn't impede my ability to prepare meals.
The large spread of food in front of me was an unusual sight for most of the world. Apparently, arable farmland for crops and farm animals was a quickly diminishing resource in the world due to the large number of monsters running around. Finding and stabilizing an area long enough to grow food stretched the available manpower and resources dangerously thin. Luxuries such as meat required even more space and the food necessary to feed them, so those options only truly existed for the powerful and wealthy. The exception to these trying times seemed to be the humble village I was raised in, which had miraculously stayed monster-free. The hunters in the village were all able to find amble food in the surrounding forest, and the vast expanses of farmland in the village were always filled with fresh crops in the warmer months. I had learned this from Zenith, who, ever the magnanimous soul, had let slip a few details when she complained about how hard it was to send food and supplies to other neighboring villages due to the danger of monster attacks along the main travel routes. That along with some occasional gossip I heard from the Greyrats or the other village residents, and it wasn't hard to piece together an image of the outside world.
"Master Shirou."
Measured steps clacked against the wooden floor, and Lilia entered the kitchen with grace befitting the diligent maid. She took a look at the arrangement of food on the kitchen table, and I could see the struggle between gratitude and resignation in her eyes before the woman decided that some things came first and walked over to me.
"Master Shirou, I do recall Lady Zenith requesting for you to stop helping around the house so much."
"Sorry," I apologized, "but I just wanted to take care of some chores for you two. I know how hard it can be, so I wanted to chip in a bit."
Lilia's face twisted into a grimace. "That might be true…" The woman picked up a bowl of stew, her eyes widening in pleasant surprise as the aroma of the dish wafted throughout the room before she quickly reined herself in and walked back to the dining room to set it upon the table. "But regardless, Lady Zenith has expressed her dissatisfaction towards your assistance. As—" she took another plate and swooned at the smell" —helpful as you might be, Zenith is still my employer and the head of the household."
I raised an eyebrow at her statement. "Isn't that Paul?"
She smirked. "That's what he wants you to believe," she answered curtly. "In any case, Zenith has indicated that she has sorely missed being in the kitchen. It's an almost primal need for young mothers to nurture their young. Nature has perpetuated this cycle since time immemorial and will continue to do so for eternity." She paused, cocking her head to the side, putting a finger to her chin. "Besides, shouldn't a child such as yourself be more inclined to pursue other matters? I'm sure there's plenty of other children for you to play with in the village."
No thanks. It was hard enough to interact with these adults. There was simply no way I could naturally mingle with kids more than half my age. It would be the same as a child trying to talk to adults. I would stick out like a sore thumb.
"I'd much rather stay in the house. I'd like to make yours and Zenith's life as easy as possible. I have to earn my keep, you know?"
Lilia put another plate down on the table before twisting her head and gazing at me out of the corner of her vision. "That's admirable, but still…" She sighed, enough lethargy infused in her breath to put infants to sleep. "I'm sure Paul and Zenith aren't going to charge their son rent, " she said, holding a hand to her head.
It was a scripted conversation. We've had similar disagreements in the past, both Zenith and Lilia regarding my need to help them. I've always stubbornly held my ground, and this debate was no exception.
"Are you going to stop calling me 'Master'?"
"Of course not. You are the son to the lord and lady of the household, and thus you deserve the respect that comes with such a title."
The title she gave me left a bitter taste in my mouth, even more so with the clear respect in her voice when it left her lips.
"Then you have your answer."
Lilia let out another sigh, another defeat in her attempts to stop me from assimilating part of her maidly duties. Recognizing I was stalwart in my decision, she placed the rest of the prepared food on the table, the myriad of plates and bowls covering the entirety of the large dining table.
It was a sight that would have left the mouths of the less fortunate drooling with desire and their eyes darkening in resentment and envy. I could not blame them; the food on the table was merely breakfast for the Greyrat household, but it would have been enough to feed a small family for a day in the more monster-stricken areas of the world, I presumed. It wasn't just quickly prepared proteins and vegetables either. It was a full meal cooked over the span of a few hours, complete with carefully chosen ingredients and spices in order to balance and complement flavors. Most people did not have the luxury of being able to choose what they wanted to eat, forced to use whatever was available to them.
Lilia took a spoon and dipped it into one of the small bowls of soup I made for the Greyrats. Wiping a strand of hair from her face, she placed the sample into her mouth.
"How refreshing," she noted, a small smile blossoming on her lips. "Light and flavorful, but not overpoweringly so. A slight acidity to enhance the other tones, and not enough fattiness to feel heavy after the meal. I must say: your skills are truly exceptional. Have you given thought to becoming a chef in the royal courts? The people there are a bit unsavory, but I have no doubt that they would compensate you handsomely for such delicacies."
I laughed off her praise. "You think too highly of me. I only am just copying what you and Zenith do."
Lilia raised an eyebrow but didn't comment further, taking the time to instead scoop another spoonful of soup into her mouth, a quiet moan rumbling in her throat. She put down the spoon finally, but from her face, I could tell she did so with immense reluctance.
Well, as overly rehearsed as the previous disagreement was, I'm glad it wasn't outwardly caustic or explosive. Nothing like Zenith and Paul's previous arguments. Lilia was as stiff as ever, but over the past few years, she loosened up slightly. I can still tell there's a bit of hesitation in her eyes, but now I could actually hold her gaze for a while until she breaks away in obvious discomfort. Perhaps the constant exposure to my presence forced her to acclimate to whatever she was feeling before, but it still didn't really explain her respectful and polite demeanor towards me. A part of that was her professionality, but interacting with me more than what was strictly required wasn't in her job description. There was a certain warmth to her, not like Zenith's, but I still couldn't explain it. Perhaps she was a tsundere after all, but she was a bit different from the one I was used to.
The sound of the stairs creaking grabbed both of our attention. Apparently, our discussion was loud enough to reach the master bedroom upstairs, as Zenith made her way down. The woman was obviously tired; her shoulders were slumped, and the slouch she carried made her seem even smaller and more shrunken than usual. Her eyes were sullen and sunken, the dark bags underneath them contrasting sharply against her pale skin. Her hair was in a lazy, half-done bun, stray strands falling down onto her face.
Evidently, last night was not kind to her, nor any of the previous ones for the past few years. In fact, it might have been getting worse.
To her credit, the jovial woman immediately bounced back, though the mask she put on did little to deceive me, or Lilia for that matter judging from the pitying look she casted at her employer. "Oh, did Shirou cook again?" Her smile was a bit crooked, but she did well to hide the exhaustion. She took a spoonful of the same soup Lilia had sampled earlier, peering deeply into the liquid as if she was trying to find life's answers from her reflection before she put the spoon into the mouth. "Ah, it's much better than mine. I didn't even know you could make these kinds of flavors. My pride as a woman, broken by a child…" The smile enlarged, but her eyes remained the same.
"I learned from the best," I explained.
"You're talented," she corrected. "There's only so much you can learn from just watching Lilia and I." She gestured to the table full of food. "There's learning from watching, and then there's this."
I nodded once, acquiescing the point to her but choosing to not follow up on it. "I made some food for Paul as well for later in the day. It's boxed and bagged in the kitchen." Paul may have been questionable, but I don't think he was truly all bad. Besides, helping the Greyrats included him as well. I've been cooking for all of them for a while now, so it wasn't out of the ordinary.
Zenith sighed, looking at the prepared lunch from across the room. "I swear, that man will make a big fuss about it as he always does, but he'll still eat it in the end. Why can't he just be honest about things?" She tilted her head in thought, pondering about something before she sighed again. "Whatever, I never know what's going on in that head of his anyway.
She stopped herself from saying anything more before panning over to Lilia, who was not so discretely trying to avoid her sight. "Lilia, I thought you were supposed to be making breakfast today?"
"I apologize, Lady Zenith. Master Shirou woke up earlier than I anticipated."
"Earlier than you?" She turned around back to me confusedly. "Shirou, are you… are you sure you're getting enough sleep? " Her voice was hesitant, trembling slightly as anxiety crept over her face again.
Ah, that was a slight oversight. When was the last time I had even slept? A few days ago? Maybe even a week? I had taken to the habit of using reinforcement to forgo sleep altogether to make more time for training. After my training session last night had extended into this morning, I had decided to jump straight into making breakfast for the household. I forgot to consider that most children my age slept long hours as their bodies were still in the developmental stages.
"Of course I do. I sleep enough," I answered. I wasn't sure how long I could go without sleeping, but so far, there have been no noticeable side effects.
Zenith blinked once at me, judging the veracity of my words before speaking again, "I see. Well… just take care of yourself, okay?"
I internally raised an eyebrow.
Have I been doing something she deemed dangerous? Knowing her, Zenith was just being a concerned mother.
"Of course."
Zenith hummed thoughtfully before sighing and sitting down at the dining table.
"Well, come on, with so much food here, it's going to get cold if we don't start now." Zenith scanned the table, looking for the most appealing dish to eat. Idly picking at some meat and eggs, she instead turned towards some fried rice before finding that unappetizing as well.
Lilia wordlessly rolled her eyes, glancing at me out of the corner of her eye before walking towards the woman before picking up her still empty plate. With speed and efficiency befitting a servant more than a human, she picked up a utensil and placed a healthy sample of multiple dishes onto Zenith's plate. Her arm blurred at comically fast speeds as Zenith could watch blankly as the empty wooden plate was now topped with a varied mix of portions from multiple dishes. As diligent as ever, Lilia made sure that the plate was loaded with a nutritionally balanced array of food.
"Lady Zenith, your son has thoughtfully prepared an extravagant feast for you. Please do not let his efforts be in vain," she admonished gently.
I was surprised. I did not figure Lilia to be the type to cross the line of professionality between the two. The woman tended to be curt and polite, focusing on her duties above all else. Or perhaps she had been encroaching further and further over that line, and I had never noticed until such a blatant display was shown right in front of me.
Zenith flushed, her pale cheeks a rosy red. "Sorry, I wasn't as hungry as I thought." She looked over to me, keeping me a small, apologetic smile.
Lilia gave her a look. "Regardless, you still need to eat. You've been eating less recently. I can see you've been losing weight." Now that I looked a bit closer, Zenith did seem more malnourished as of late. Her petite body was even smaller than before, and those thin arms looked more akin to twigs of bone than limbs. Her face was more defined, but only because there was little muscle or fat to soften the harsh lines of bone underneath the skin. If what Lilia said was true, then Zenith not eating properly would certainly lead to such a sorry state. "Please, this household depends on you. It is your duty to take care of yourself."
A smile tinged with bitterness spread across Zenith's lips. "Duty, huh?" She tentatively picked up a spoon, dipping it into the same bowl of soup that Lilia had sampled earlier before giving it a small taste. "It's good," she noted. Her face was unsurprised, as expected since she's already tried my cooking many times before. However, there wasn't any pleasantness to be found in her facial features, as if she was simply commenting on the weather. "It's far better than mine if I'm being honest."
"I disagree." My memories of it were faded and vague, but the feelings I felt when I had Zenith's cooking were not fully forgotten. In comparison to mine, and it was obvious what my cooking still lacked.
"Well, I suppose I can't complain," Zenith admitted, ignoring my statement. "Shirou cooks. Shirou cleans. All without complaint too. I barely have to do anything."
The wonders of having lived alone for most of my life. Self-sufficiency was a necessary skill.
"It leaves plenty of time to relax, I imagine," I hinted, not so subtlety steering the woman towards that direction.
"I suppose," she answered simply. "Anyway, where's Paul? Isn't today his turn to patrol? He needs to eat soon or else he's going to starve and die to a pack of assault dogs."
"Lord Paul is still resting. Don't worry, I will remain here to reheat food for when he wakes. I'll be sure to give him his afternoon meal as well." Lilia nodded towards me, a gesture I reciprocated. Curt and professional, a stellar combination.
The fact that Zenith still held some worry for Paul was a good sign. Progress was still a bit slow, considering they are largely ignoring each other during the time I'm with them. I'm not sure what happened when I wasn't around, but it couldn't have been all bad if matters hadn't completely broken down between the two.
I mentally sighed. I was woefully unsuited for this type of problem solving. The challenges I knew how to overcome involved me stabbing many bladed objects until whatever was causing the issue disappeared. Mediating domestic matters was unfortunately far out of my area of expertise. Nevertheless, I caused this problem, so it was my obligation to fix it. Zenith and Paul were a perfectly normal couple before my birth here. Had I been another child, I doubt something like this would have happened. This drift between them occurred because of me, so the burden of resolving it was on my shoulders.
"Please go easier on Paul. I'm sure he doesn't have it easy," I said.
Possible scum he might be, but Paul did not exactly lead an easy life. Complications of raising a reincarnated human aside, Paul was still the guardian of this village and regularly went out on patrols. Even if the area was mostly safe, he still risked his life almost daily. I wonder what Zenith's reaction would be if Paul came back heavily injured from an encounter with a monster. Or worse—if he didn't come back at all.
Perhaps an incident such as that might finally be able to pierce through the cloudiness within her mind and give her the answers she sought. Humans often find their resolve in the most strenuous of circumstances, and seeing her husband in such a state could give her the awakening she needed.
Zenith hummed thoughtfully. "Maybe, but it's more complicated than that."
I'm sure it was, but they needed to start somewhere. Zenith and Paul were both acting indignant, but they clearly still held enough feelings for each other. It was awfully tempting to see if I could lock them in a room until they made up.
Silence reigned over the room as the conversation died out. Zenith returned to prodding at her food, slowly picking at the pile on her plate before she intermittently took small bites out of it. It seemed that she was content to be lost in her thoughts. That was fine; there was no use in forcing anything. Matters such as this had to be fixed naturally or else the opposite effect could happen.
Lilia stared pointedly at Zenith before walking to the other side of the table across from Zenith. She gathered her own fair share of food onto her plate, looking at it once questioningly before committing herself to the act and diving in. It was baffling how she managed to remain so refined while stuffing her face. It reminded me almost of how Saber had gorged down enough food to feed a dozen men in a single night while miraculously retaining her dignity as a king in the process. Almost—the King of Knights was on another level entirely since she had to eat copious amounts of food to regain her depleted mana reserves.
Lilia noticed me looking at her, and I could see the urge to flinch away in her eyes before she pushed it away. The maid rigidly nodded her head—a gesture of acknowledge and thanks, I presumed—then proceeded to continue finishing her meal.
A small sensation of amusement rose within me. Honestly, this family was quite bewildering. All that was missing was Paul coming down to try his best to ignore me. As was the case since I was born, everyone seemed to be on eggshells, and there was definitely something lurking beneath the surface on all these interactions. As for what, I couldn't decipher, but I couldn't let my lack of knowledge stop me. Helping out with these gestures such as cooking them food was the only thing I could really do, so it stood to reason I had to be firm about it regardless of their insistence.
I walked around to my own spot on the table, the seat at the far end closest to the door implicitly reserved for me. Sitting down on the boosted seat, I gathered a modest serving of the food I had cooked. I took a small sip of the soup Lilia and Zenith had tasted before, bringing the hot broth to my mouth and giving it a quick sip.
How bland. It was nothing special in my eyes; flavor had lost all meaning to me, no matter how skillfully the dishes were prepared. It was ironic that despite being told I was a masterful chef, I was the only one not privy to the fruits of my labors. Still, despite food being mainly used for its nutritional value, only a few minor adjustments in preparation yielded something that made others happy, so that was enough for me.
I looked straight across to the seat on the other end of the table. It was empty, its typical occupant still asleep upstairs. He's been staying in later more often lately. Perhaps his patrols were increasing in intensity? Or maybe the issue lay on the other end of the spectrum, and it was his thoughts keeping him awake? Regardless, the man tended to avoid everyone else in the household anyway, so his absence wasn't a surprise.
The next pair of seats were Zenith and Lilia's, the two women of the house sitting across from each other. They were still closer to Paul's end of the table, leaving my half of the table and its last remaining pair of chairs empty. Speaking of which, Zenith and Lilia seemed to be engaged in a staring contest of sorts. Shades of blue clashed in the silent room, the clattering of utensils against wood having stopped some time ago. From the look of things, Lilia definitely had the decisive edge; Zenith's blue orbs buckled and trembled as her face morphed into one of doubt and indecision. Finally, after a few tense moments, the tired woman folded and yielded entirely, closing her eyes and letting out a sigh.
"Shirou."
Her voice pierced through the silence of the room, but despite the commanding tone, just that singular word seemed to have aged her a decade. Still, it was assertive enough that I was immediately wary of her next words. There were a few times I had heard my name being uttered in a similar manner, and the proceeding conversation had never been entirely pleasant.
"Yes?"
"We… we need to talk." Her eyes quickly flickered to the side, catching Lilia's gaze for a moment before returning them towards me. "It's about all this." Zenith gestured to the table of food in front of us, a meal the less fortunate parts of the world would have killed to have. "You said you wanted to help, right?"
"Correct." As meager as it was, this was the only way I knew how to do things.
Zenith looked down, her hands clenching into fists in her lap. "You… you don't need to do that. Not anymore."
"Is the food not to your liking?"
"No, not that. It's… it's wonderful, really. But... didn't I say you should be leaving these kinds of things to Lilia and me…?" She was hesitant, almost frightened, as if she was carefully defusing a bomb that could explode at any moment. Every word that came out of her mouth was said with no small amount of consideration, and I could tell this conversation was something she had been thinking about for a while now.
"You did, yes." Just like Lilia had done so before, Zenith had brought up her concerns about my habits. However, just like Lilia, I had mostly brushed her off. It wasn't out of disrespect, of course, but their reservations stemmed out of concern for me. I couldn't fault them for it; in their eyes, I was only a child, and adults tended to have a natural instinct to protect the young. Still, I couldn't abide by that kind of logic. I didn't need their concern. It was a bit callous, but I was far from a child. Gently rebuking them would suffice for now, and hopefully over time, they would learn that this was something I would not budge on. And in addition to that… "I just want to help. You've been more tired lately. I thought I could make you feel better by doing more around the house. If I cook and clean more, maybe it could help with your stress, right?" I looked up at Zenith, my eyes digging into hers as I evenly explained my logic.
She broke my gaze, shifting uncomfortably in her seat as a storm of emotions clouded over blue orbs. "You're… not wrong, but still—I can't accept that. You're… you're just a child still. You should just be enjoying your childhood, nothing else—not all this." The strength behind her eyes wavered but held, her resolve adding credence to her words.
I frowned internally. She was certainly being more persistent than usual. I had to give her credit—her words were genuine, and if only for a slight moment, I could feel the fluttering of something within my chest before I stamped it out. Yet, as moving as they were, it was nothing I hadn't heard before. I didn't change my answer then, and I wouldn't change it now.
"It's not wrong to help others." To repay their kindness, to not be a burden, to start doing something with my life, I was willing to stand out this much.
"You're right," Zenith conceded with a nod. "Being kind is a good thing. I appreciate the help, and Lilia won't admit it, but she does too."
"Then where's the problem?"
"You're four, Shirou! You should be more like a kid. You should enjoy life, not cooping yourself up in this house. I get that you want to help, but there are things I have to do myself, you know?"
I flinched, the last words of a bloodstained girl echoing in my head.
Zenith got up, her legs wobbling as she walked over to me before kneeling next to me. I craned my head, surprised that she was willing to confront me so brazenly when the woman had been content to leave things as they were before. With my small stature, her head was level with mine, and mirrors of azure reflected my own dull bronze orbs back at me.
"The world, it's a terrible place, Shirou," Zenith said somberly. "That's why we want you to be a child with a normal childhood, nothing like what Paul and I experienced when we were growing up."
The pressure to carve out your own happiness in a world of strife and misery… I could respect that wish. I looked away from her. The pressure of those ocean blue eyes was soul-crushing, and I fought to keep my breathing even as pangs of guilt stabbed me over and over.
Zenith took my silence as a sign of acquiescence.
"Paul and I, we didn't have you so you could so something for us. We had you so we could do something for you."
I didn't know how to reply to that. Her words sucked the air out of my lungs, taking all the fight out of me. My eyes widened in surprise, and I was speechless at the meaning behind her words.
Slowly, Zenith's arms rose until her hands were resting on my shoulders. Once again, she fixed me in place with pools of blue, and no matter how much I willed it, my head would not turn away from her gaze. She took a breath, steadying herself, a small reprieve I was grateful for so I could reestablish myself.
And then Zenith smiled, and I involuntarily gasped as my heart skipped a beat. It was as if the angels themselves blessed her existence at that very moment. There was no shred of disingenuity I could find, not a single iota of falsehood on her face. It was the smile of someone with no regrets, made with every ounce of feeling within herself, not of love for herself, but for the person she was looking at.
It was confusing. I had done nothing to warrant her affection. She had nothing to be grateful for.
I knew that smile. I had seen it before on a husk of a man. I inadvertently closed my eyes, and before I could stop it, my mind flashed back all those years ago to that fateful night.
Fire as far as the eye could see. A sky of blood red blanketing the area. Corpses littering the ground, bent in gruesome positions as their last moments approached.
It was hell.
There was no salvation to be had.
And yet, despite it all, there was a singular ray of hope. A shining light amidst the sea of despair. A star sparkling in the darkness, as golden as the light he held in his hands. It was the smile of a man above me, clutching onto my raised arm as if his very life depended on it. Rivers of tears ran down his face as he breathlessly thanked me over and over for merely existing.
It was the gratitude of a man who had nothing, pursuing an ambition that betrayed him time and again. He had lost everything, his ideal turning to ashes in the very fire he had created and coming apart in his grasp. In the end, the only thing he could save was the broken boy he had found amidst the ruins of his dream.
"I'm guessing you're mulling over it?"
The sudden words snapped me out of my reverie. Fire and blood faded away to reveal the familiar kitchen I was standing in, as well as the source of my musing.
Kiritsugu's smile had been one born out of salvation from tragedy. Zenith's felt… similar, yet not quite the same. Not in a bad way, just ever so slightly different.
Even looking at it right now, it was hard to decipher. Her smile made something in my chest stir in a way that brought back memories of times far behind me. It was both pleasant but uncomfortable, an inexplicable amalgamation of emotions covering my heart. Every time I looked at her, her image was buried under flashes of Kiritsugu's face and promises of heroism, the very oath I had failed to uphold.
It was an ironic twist of fate, a laughable development in the script I was given. During that night all those years ago, it had been me who had made that request to Kiritsugu. He never wanted me to be a hero of justice, but to repay the man who had saved me, to be granted a sliver of the salvation he had uncovered, I willingly chose to take up the mantle he had carried before.
To be here now, to be requested to revoke the vow I undertook back then, to be nothing more than myself… my soul fluttered at the thought. It was oh so alluring, the seductive call of temptation—the almost irresistible pull to take the hand that reached out to me. It was an offer so enticing that it could coax the strongest of men, an invitation tantalizing enough to make angels fall from the high heavens and paint their wings black.
But I couldn't be selfish. Even if this was the last chance I would ever get. I couldn't afford to falter here.
"I don't promise anything."
Perhaps, in another time, in another life, in another world, with them. Redemption had been possible for me once, but it had slipped away. These hands were destined to never hold anything.
Hurt and disappointment flashed across her eyes. "Well, just think on it, okay?" Zenith seemed to accept my answer and walked back to her spot on the dining table. The strength she had mustered before was gone, and she was noticeably deflated.
"Well, even so, I would like for you to get a head start. I believe the weather is quite nice today. Go enjoy yourself out there. We'll take care of things here."
I looked off to the side towards Lilia. In my earlier surprise, I didn't even get the chance to see her reaction. It was fading now, but I could still see the remnants of surprise in her expression. Surprise, but there was no small amount of pride mixed in as well.
Ah, so that's how it was. It seemed that my earlier hopes had been fulfilled right underneath my nose. In any case, I was glad that Zenith had found someone to lean on. With that in mind, I wasn't needed here any longer. It was time to make my exit.
"Okay, I'll go outside and explore around for a bit."
This was a good chance to learn the lay of the land as well. Before, I had been tied up next to Zenith, but this opportunity of unrestricted freedom was too good to pass by.
"You… will…?"
Both Lilia and Zenith looked dumbstruck at my response. Their eyebrows must have disappeared somewhere in their hair, and Lilia's mouth was even agape slightly, an unsightly gesture by the normally refined maid. Had she maintained it for any longer, I was worried a fly or two might have flown inside. The spoon Zenith had been holding onto clattered against the wooden bowl as her fingers slackened unexpectedly, letting the utensil fall and sending a few stray bits of food onto her person.
"Did… you not want me to…?" I asked inquisitively.
Zenith immediately waved her hands in a vaguely placating manner.
"No, no, no—I am completely fine with that! Yes, yes, please do!" She punctuated her point by nodding up and down rapidly, and I looked at the woman as if she had sprouted a second head. Eventually, I sighed, giving up my attempts to fathom her strange behavior. Women, despite being constantly surrounded by them, I was no closer in reaching any sort of understanding.
I ate a few more bites of the food I had made, not finding it appetizing enough to finish the plate. It was fine; I had more than enough nutrients to sustain me. It's not like I was expecting much to happen anyway.
I got off the chair and walked towards the door, opening it before looking back at the two women still at the table.
"Well, I'll be off now. I'll be back sometime later."
I didn't know how long this excursion would take. It was best to be vague about these sorts of things.
Realizing I was about to leave, both Lilia and Zenith jumped out of their chairs to stand by the door, as if they were cutting off my escape and corralling me outside.
"Don't worry, we'll be fine. Oh, and don't go around being a busy body around the village! Go have fun and explore, or whatever it is kids these days do. As long as it's not here."
Well, I didn't have any intentions of running errands for people anyway.
"Oh… and um… Take care!" Zenith shouted, waving goodbye as I stepped outside. I looked back at her, giving her a curt nod before closing the door behind me.
"Are you sure it was wise of you to send him out?"
The casual question cut through the silence between the two women, who had previously been content to wordlessly continue with their meal.
Zenith gave the woman a sideways glance. "What do you mean?" she asked, though she gave the conversation a half-hearted effort as she continued chopping various ingredients.
"You've never sent him out like that before," Lilia said. She took another spoonful of the soup Shirou had made, savoring the unique flavor before giving it an approving hum. "It was his idea in the first place, yes, but now you will have no idea what he'll be doing."
Zenith grimaced at the thought but held firmly. "It's fine. Not much happens around here anyway. I don't think he'll be running into any monsters or bandits as long as he stays nearby."
"You think a child will know such logic?"
The blonde woman rolled her eyes. "I think you and I both know he's far too smart for his own good."
Lilia nodded her head at that. That child was truly a confusing one.
Still, that was not what she had been referring to. If Zenith would not be entirely forthcoming with her, then it seemed that she would have to cut directly to the heart of the matter. As lovely as the soup was, she was beginning to tire of it, and so she put it off to the side. The maid felt slightly regretful discarding the boy's hard work, but she appreciated the sentiment behind the gesture at the very least.
Lilia leaned forward, fully looking at her employer and friend—though that last title was still a bit new for Lilia to comfortably use.
"Before now, you've made sure to always keep him at your side. Whenever you go visit the other villagers, you drag him along with you, even for the most menial reasons. He has rarely been out of your sight in the entirety of his life. You coddled him to an unnatural degree. Some people would call you overbearing and suffocating," she said, cocking her head to the side. "I would not disagree with that assessment."
From the woman's face, she knew Lilia was not wrong, but she would not fold so easily. "Okay, and? What's your point?"
"It's a bit of a change of pace from the norm, no? Had I known these were your intentions from the start, I would have worded my previous advice differently."
"What wrong with what I did?" The woman looked a bit miffed at her words, and Lilia was becoming all too aware of the line between them that she swore not to cross. Still…
"I would not say it was wrong. Rather, I feel that another approach may yield better results."
Zenith shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "That… might be true, but I…—" she let out a groan of frustration, burying her head in her hands "—You know how long I've been thinking about this. I couldn't pass up the chance to maybe make things right." The woman refused to meet Lilia's eyes, and perhaps that was a sign that the lady of the household was still withholding secrets.
Of course, Zenith was in no way obligated to reveal anything to her. First and foremost, she was Lilia's employer. Their fundamental relationship was still professional at its core. While they had grown closer over the past few years, Lilia still had to respect certain boundaries, lest her source of income suddenly vanish.
Still, perhaps it bothered her ever so slightly that things were still being hidden from her. She shouldn't be feeling even the slightest bit upset, but Lilia could not deny the ugliness in her heart. In Zenith, she had found someone who could relate to the strangeness occurring within this household, someone else who noticed the things she had, felt the same inexplicable sensations that had made her skin crawl. Before then, Lilia had been silent about the whole ordeal, keeping such opinions to herself lest she anger the ones who fed and housed her. To find someone else who shared her experiences, she felt relieved.
"That's true. Regardless of anything else, you did splendidly to confront him at last. How did it feel?"
Zenith relaxed in her chair, the tenseness of her body slowly ebbing away. "I… I don't know. I'm glad he listened to me, but still…"
Lilia could somewhat understand what she was feeling. In the end, despite successfully getting the boy out of the house and having some semblance of normalcy, Zenith did not achieve her true objective in that conversation.
"I don't promise anything."
Having mustered up the courage to come face to face with him, only to be given a subtle rejection, the maid could understand the woman's frustration.
"Well, what now? You've partially completed what you wanted to do. Shirou is outside right now. What's next for you?"
In truth, Lilia only really knew about Zenith's struggles with trying to talk to the boy about her reservations with his actions. As for everything else, sending her child away from his mother's side included, Lilia was not privy to those details.
"I… I don't know. I didn't even think I would make it to this point. I… I don't even know if what I'm doing will make any difference."
"But you will still try," Lilia completed for her.
Zenith paused, then nodded. "Yes, I… —I still have to try."
Lilia agreed with her thoughts. Admittedly, she also thought that trying to change the boy's behavior in such a way would be a fruitless effort. He was quite stubborn, a characteristic present in both Paul and Zenith. If nothing else, there was that small detail to cling onto. Humans had to hope—otherwise there was no reason to exist.
"I would not give up so hastily. Children are easily impressionable. As… well-learned as Shirou might be, even he might be susceptible to external factors that you might not expect."
"You—you think he'll get into trouble?"
Worry flashed across Zenith's eyes as they widened in shocking realization. Lilia held back a sigh as she deduced the root cause of the mother's anxiety. Honestly, if she would just be blatant and upfront with her son, then this problem would be a lot easier to navigate and solve. It felt a lot like the initial drama between Paul and Zenith—just one giant mess of hidden truths and unresolved worries with her caught in the thick of it. Despite everything, this family couldn't have been more fitting for each other if they tried. It was truly a match made by forces beyond her, though it came with its share of headaches. At this point, Lilia was tempted to lock them all in a room and force them to talk until they resolved their differences.
Still, she couldn't just say it outright. These kinds of situations required a bit more tact, and forcefully shoving an answer onto Zenith wouldn't solve anything. Whatever resolution she sought would have to come from herself and no one else.
However, that didn't mean she couldn't gently guide her… friend towards the answer. Sometimes, all someone needs are a firm hand on the shoulder—metaphorically, of course-and some timely words.
Well, Lilia couldn't begrudge Zenith in the slightest. After all, the predicament that she had found herself in was not an easy one to solve. It was a tiring mess of feelings and truths, and that was barely scratching the surface. The fact that she was constantly surrounded by both subjects of her confusion and frustration was not helping in the slightest. It left little time for contemplation and reflection, not when she had to deal with the proverbial fires every day.
So yes, Lilia did not think any less of the woman. Truth be told, Lilia had only just recently traversed her own feelings on the matter. Well, her feelings on one Paul Greyrat were already resolved quite some time ago—the reason why she had been confident on taking this job in the first place. No, it was his son that had thrown the maid into quite a spiral over the past few years.
Anomaly.
In a word, that was what she would use to describe Shirou Greyrat. It was a bit harsh since he was only a child, but her rather critical judgement was made with good reason. Simply put, the child was not a child.
Often, Lilia had to remind herself that he was four years old. At his tender age, most children were blabbering and incoherent piles of flesh held together by the vaguest links of sentience. They were crawling around, crying incessantly and constantly badgering their parents for food when they weren't soiling themselves. However, it was more apparent each passing day that no one had bothered to tell Shirou that.
The boy was, admittedly, exceptional. He showed physical and mental capabilities far beyond his age. He was largely self-sufficient, learning all the steps to growing up as if he were reading them straight out of a textbook. No, rather, it was more accurate to say he had been born with all the necessary knowledge in his head. There was not a single aspect to life that he had to be taught.
For example, as someone who had experience in helping to raise children, Lilia was used to the laborious process of fostering that instinctual urge to walk. She had helped them remain upright and balance their top-heavy bodies as unused legs muscles acclimated to bearing the load of a human body. It was a lengthy affair, and one she was prepared to undertake once again when she was hired as a maid for the Greyrats.
In the end, it was entirely unnecessary. Shirou had taken to walking like a fish to water, displaying coordination and balance more in line with a seasoned adventurer or soldier than a toddler. He wasn't infallible; he didn't immediately start running and jumping out of his crib. In fact, he was clumsy in the beginning, trying to stand and walk when his body simply wasn't ready for it. However, it was more as if he already knew how to do so, and the only challenge was simply adapting to the short, stubby legs of a baby. Regardless, the sheer rate of his progression was astounding. It only took perhaps a week or two for him to overcome his physical deficiencies. And if her eyes were not deceiving her, even his body would not be his limiting factor in the future because the boy was slowly losing his baby fat in exchange for muscle—not much, he was still a toddler, but he was a better physical specimen than his age would indicate.
His sudden dexterity translated to other areas as well. His skills in the kitchen were commendable. Originally, Zenith had panicked when Shirou had started using the kitchen without any supervision or knowledge. She was worried that he would chop of his fingers or burn himself or some other incident the paranoid woman conjured in her head, but the boy had shown her that her concerns were trivial. Frankly, in terms of pure mechanical expertise with a blade, Shirou was superior to her and Zenith, a frightening idea should he decide to utilize his skills in other fields.
It was scarily remarkable how the boy made his knifework an art. His speed was impressive, almost bordering on recklessly dangerous if not for the fact that he tempered it with almost inhuman accuracy and precision, resulting in exact cuts at large volume. And if he could learn and experience the various cuisines of the regions of the world and combine them with his eye-popping efficiency? He would truly be a culinary master.
In Lilia's eyes, there was no doubt he would achieve that in the future. Her earlier words to him had been no lie; if he wished, he would not be out of place in the lofty halls of a royal palace as a chef. However, while Shirou's physical development was astounding, it was still second to his most remarkable trait: his mind.
She had noticed, on occasion, that he was observing everything around him. He wasn't particularly discrete about it either. And when she said everything, she meant everything. Even something as mundane as the walls of the house. From the way he peered at them, it was like he was seeing no one else could. She had initially chalked it up to typical toddler eccentricities, but as his intelligence became more noticeable, that particular theory became harder and harder to believe.
Something that frequently held his interest was Paul's training regimen. She often found him in the upstairs storage room watching him intently in the yard. As a former guard and an… acquaintance of his, she knew first-hand that Paul was very skilled, enough so that his movements could be seen as mesmerizing. It was no surprise that it held a child's attention. And yet, when Shirou watched him, she didn't get the sense of wonder and admiration that she would have expected. His gaze was far more... analytical, silently judging and critiquing the forms and motions of someone who, for all intents and purposes, should have been beyond his ability to comprehend. Still, she could feel those eyes follow his father flawlessly and then that hidden intellect that always lingered just below the surface of his gaze processing every minute detail, dissecting each iota of information down to its most basic level and then absorbing it.
Most people who have called her ridiculous for complaining about a child learning, but they did not see what she saw. How, despite only seeing his father go through the motions once, Shirou had, with a kitchen knife in hand, had mimicked his movements almost flawlessly with the same empty look he always had.
And perhaps that was the crux of the matter. She should've been happy that her employer's—friend's? —child was so gifted. However, whenever she looked into those bronze eyes, ones that should have full of life and joy, she saw… nothing. His gaze was a dull amber that held the same void she had sensed from the very beginning. He was always polite and soft-spoken, seldomly deviating from the same dull tone of voice. He spoke with the eloquence of a scribe, his speech even and clear, more fitting on a researcher delivering his results than on a young boy. And his smile… on the rare occasions she saw it, it never quite reached his eyes, as if he was merely curling his lips upwards than any genuine attempt at the gesture.
He was born like this, she knew. She had been there for his birth. When Zenith first held Shirou in her arms, they were all concerned. His eyes were shut, and he was silent. Just before Lilia made to go over and spank him to force him to breathe, Shirou had woken up.
Those amber orbs had snapped open, and Lilia had immediately sensed a foreboding aura coming from the boy. She had been so shocked that she had been rooted in place, every cell within her body warning her not to approach any closer. She had been lucky that he had not seen her; if she had been sucked into that stare at that moment, Lilia was not sure if she could have kept herself together.
Even stranger, the boy had awoken not with wailing as she had expected, but with a cry of something. It sounded like a name, but Lilia couldn't be sure because his vocal cords weren't developed enough to create refined sounds yet. Nevertheless, he had said it once, looked around the room, said what vaguely sounded like another name, and then silently observed them for the rest of the evening, but she could tell that his attention was barely on them, his true gaze lying somewhere else.
And for the years afterwards, he had maintained that disposition. He was often aloof, almost detached from the world around him. It was hard to describe—it wasn't that he didn't care, more that he was… out of place, a sense of otherworldliness emanating from him.
She had grown overly curious one day, and upon seeing him alone in a room, she had purposefully tried to peer past the surface of those mystifying eyes, to search for a sign of something—anything —to assuage her concerns.
Lilia had found something, though she sorely wished she hadn't.
Fire and death.
It clung him to like a parasite, unwilling to release him. A miasma of death and grief so nauseating she had almost vomited on the spot permeated his existence.
That was the last time she dared to try and find it again.
It was unnatural. No one should have been like that, never mind a four year-old that Lilia had watched over since birth. She had seen soldiers fresh from battle, victims of ambushes as the sole survivors, and even watched over the dying as their last moments approached, and yet the look they had given her in their final moments could not compare to the haunted gaze that had captured her in that moment.
What did it say when the aura of the dying was magnitudes lesser than his? That their wide-eyed terror attacks were preferable to his inhuman emptiness. That their broken minds were preferable a to a boy whose blank and broken soul might as well have been nailed back together and then covered by a blanket called humanity.
Lilia was a woman of superstition. Every fiber in her being told her that she should not associate herself with him. Every instinct she had told her to run away without a second thought.
And yet, here she remained in the very household he resided in.
It had been almost two years since that event, and in that time that had transpired, Lilia had thought long and hard. About herself, about him, and her final decision. In the end, she finally came to a conclusion, clinging onto it with all she had. It was a simple reason, but sometimes humans had a tendency to forget about things right under their noses.
Shirou was not a bad person.
Frightening, yes. Unsettling, for certain. But in all her years serving the Greyrats, not once had she sensed a single iota of malevolent intent towards anyone from the boy. Ultimately, her judgement was made from that one sole fact, but it was enough.
Despite his frightening adaptability and unnerving emptiness, there was no sense of maliciousness. That discomforting glimmer of intelligence in his eyes lacked the evil glint of a boy who desired to use his abilities to do harm. He did not manipulate the people around him—blatant attempts to help Zenith aside though perhaps that only helped his case.
He was a model child, always speaking with respect and never making trouble for anyone. He constantly offered his hand for anything, even somewhat excessively. Lilia could not recall a child who would do cleaning or cooking before Shirou, who would gladly suggest his assistance with a—fake—smile on his face.
So, she would put up with his behavior for now.
It had taken her all this time to make up her mind, and she had only decided a few months ago to stop with her icy attitude and try to treat the boy as the child he should be. His current tumultuous familial circumstances were not helping in the slightest in that regard.
But that was only her perspective. The one that really mattered was the one from the person in front of her.
As merely an observer and occasional caretaker, Lilia was very worried by Shirou's mannerisms to say the least.
As his mother, his own flesh and blood, Zenith's distress was far worse.
"The world is a troubling place nowadays. Sending such a young child alone to its crutches may prove unwise." Lilia paused, letting her words sink in. "Thankfully this village is quite peaceful. Trouble has not found us yet."
Zenith's tense face only tightened further, and her eyebrows furrowed as she sensed that Lilia was not done yet.
"But…?"
The maid sighed. "It's only a feeling, nothing more than a premonition." She turned her head to the side, towards the windows that faced the front of the house, looking into the distance where Shirou had disappeared to. "I fear that things are changing once again, Zenith. This world is destined for greater chaos."
It was just a feeling, but Lilia trusted her intuition above all else. She had sense that foreboding wind in the air all those years ago, and her soul screamed at her that something was on the horizon once again. "I know you still care for him, but I'm not sure if you can protect him from what is to come."
Zenith grimaced, avoiding her eyes once more.
Lilia noticed the bowl of soup she had cast to the side. Feeling slightly braver than before, she dipped her spoon into it, bringing it to her lips. The liquid raced down her throat, and she let out a deep hum as its flavor marinated on her tongue.
And just as before, she no longer felt the urge to sample it any further. It was difficult to consume, though not for reasons one would normally think of.
"You taste it too, huh?" The woman in front of her was more observant than she gave her credit for, Lilia acquiesced. The maid nodded at the words, frowning slightly as she brought the sensation of the flavors to the forefront of her mind.
Every masterful crafter left behind a piece of themselves in their creations, and for Shirou, it was no different. The boy must have been numb and blind to not have noticed what he had created.
Loneliness, tinged with pangs of regret. It was a bitter thing, his food. Not because of the combination of ingredients used or any fault in the cooking process, but the emotions left behind tainted anything that he created. Of course, one had to be particularly sensitive to these sorts of things; Lilia had no doubt that no ordinary person would not be able to pick up on these sorts of intricacies. She was surprised that Zenith had noticed, but the woman used to be around magicians and used magic herself, so perhaps the explanation laid there.
For her, his food was exceptional, but as soon as it went down her throat, all that was left on her tongue were the despondent sentiments he had left behind.
"So lonely…" the blonde woman said. "But there's something else in there, you know." Zenith took her a spoonful of her own soup, closing her eyes as she gulped it down, letting the sensations wash over her. "There's love here, Lilia. So much of it. I can feel it, his longing." The woman opened her eyes, and Lilia could see the start of tears pooling in those azure orbs. "But none of it is for me." She shut them closed, and a single tear trailed down her cheek.
Out of respect, Lilia chose not to comment on it, instead sitting in silence as she let the woman wipe her face.
"It's strange. I've been his mother all these years," she said, glancing towards the front door where the subject of the conversation had left from, "and yet I never did quite feel like one."
Lilia did not like where this was going.
"Zenith, you—"
"I feel like a skipped a few steps. I never got to do the things any parent would be expected to do."
She needed this, Lilia thought. All this time, she had kept all these feelings inside, never letting anyone, even her, know of them. And yet, Lilia was afraid of what conclusions Zenith might reach.
"I didn't have to teach him how to walk. One day he was crawling and before I knew it, he might as well have been a horse running around! I didn't have to teach him how to talk either. He's already more well-spoken than most people I know. Hell, he can even cook for himself now. I don't even have to feed him anymore. Just another thing to cross off the list, I guess."
Lilia kept silent, letting Zenith finish venting her frustrations. When the woman trailed off into silence, she opened her mouth to speak but found the words stuck in her throat.
What would she know? She was not a mother, someone who had given birth to another human being. She was only a caretaker, but that was different from giving birth to another human being that had been sitting inside of her for almost a year. She had no experience in this field. The most she could offer Zenith was her ear and her sympathy. Hell, Lilia herself could barely sort out her own feelings on the matter.
An uncomfortable pause, one far too long for her liking, followed. Zenith's expression turned unreadable before twisting into an ugly mix of emotions. She turned away, closing her eyes and carefully pondering her next words. In turn, Lilia kept her silence, unwilling to interrupt.
"You were right earlier, Lilia. I can't protect him if he's out there. I can't stop him, not anymore."
Wait, what did she mean by that—
"He doesn't need me. He never needed me. If that's the case," Zenith finally opened her eyes, doubt and insecurity clouding over her irises, "then what's the point of me even being here? Am I… am I even needed?"
Oh.
Zenith looked at her, and it was only now Lilia could see just how broken the woman was.
"Lilia, was I even his mother in the first place?"
Oh.
Considering the time period and my location, I wasn't surprised that Buena Village was fairly agricultural. In fact, it was almost entirely farmland. The land around me was a veritable sea of green dotted by a few modest houses. Fields of wheat and other vegetation dominated the landscape as they gentle swayed with the morning wind. Whatever areas wasn't used for farming was undeveloped land covered by golden grass and tall trees with a few buildings dotting the horizon.
It had its charm, I supposed. As a native of Fuyuki, the rural setting I was born in was a definite change of pace. Fuyuki was a fairly urban area, and seeing such luscious vegetation and wildlife close by was not a typical sight unless I wanted to take a train trip to the countryside. People were also far less common here than back at home, partly due to the lower population but also due to the lower density of houses. Not to say people were rare—they could commonly be found attending to the crops or other chores in the fields—but there weren't large groups of people clustering together like in Fuyuki.
I certainly didn't mind the time alone. It left me with a lot of time to think.
"Ah, Shirou, good morning!"
The villager in front of me was the first person I've seen traversing this path since I've left the house. He was riding a horse-drawn cart filled with bales of hay, no doubt freshly harvested from the fields.
"Good morning, Mister Taguchi," I greeted with a nod. He stopped his cart and curiously peered down at me.
"Oh, Zenith isn't with you today?"
"She is not," I shook my head. "I was told to go have fun and explore." I explained.
"Strange. Usually, she's circling you like a mother hen. Well, I suppose maybe this is for the best. That woman won't let you out of her sight. Somebody needs to tell her that kids need to be kids," he laughed. His boisterous chuckles continued for another second or two before he stopped in realization. "Oh, that reminds me! Thank you for the other day, Shirou." He gestured downwards towards the front axle of the cart. "I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't helped me repair the cart. It's all thanks to you I can haul all this around," he jerked his thumb to the bundles of hay in the back.
"It was no issue. If there's anything else I can help with, please let me know."
A flash of fear flickered the man's face. "Ah, thank you for the offer, but I can't. Zenith explicitly told me to stop relying on children for tasks a man should be able to do." The man sighed in exhaustion at recalling the conversation with the woman. "As helpful as you are, I don't need her busting down my door and yelling at me. No doubt my wife would join in." He grimaced at the thought.
"I see. If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me." I said. It was unfortunate, but there wasn't much I could do. Looks like my original plan of exploration was the best way to make use of this weird day. "Mister Taguchi, do you know any interesting places nearby? I've never really left the house much."
I only ventured out to the same area of the forest during my training sessions. If there were any places of interest nearby, I was unaware of them.
"Oh, looking for somewhere to play?" The man stroked his chin in thought. "Not off the top of my head, but if you head there—"he pointed at a hill in the distance near the forest surrounding the village"—you might be able to see something from up there."
Advice for a child, I thought dryly. "That makes sense. Thank you."
"There's lots of small areas that are quiet for a kid like you. Though if you ask me, you need to go need some of the village children. I'm sure that you'd prefer talking to kids your age than having Zenith keeping you next to her, right?"
I gave him a sheepish look. "Ah, I'm a bit shy. I don't do too well with other people."
He heartily laughed again. "Hah, you're nothing like your parents. Paul would've taken the chance to brag about his skills in front of people, and Zenith might shrivel up and die if she had no one to talk to. I guess the apple fell far from the tree, huh." He chuckled a bit more to himself. "Well, I gotta get going. I need to drop off this hay. Take care, Shirou." He gave me a friendly wave before spurring the horse forward but then suddenly stopped. "Oh, just remember to stay close to the village! Lots of monsters are around here. Rumor has it that they've been especially vicious lately, so don't go wandering off, okay?"
"I'll keep that in mind," I nodded.
"Okay, just making sure since if something happens to you and Zenith finds out I gave you ideas…" The man shivered as his imagination got the better of him. "Anyway, see ya!"
"Goodbye, Mister Taguchi." I waved back before looking at the hill he pointed out. Admittedly, it looked like a good vantage point to scout from. It looked to be about a kilometer or two from my current position, so the walk would take a while. No matter, it gave me time to sort out my thoughts anyway.
It was a rare