Chapter 18: It’s Not The Child’s Fault
by fnovelpia
Without looking back at the receding street stall,
I held the child tightly and quickened my pace.
I hated it.
The gazes of those around us,
The suspicion and wariness within the child,
The inexplicable hostility directed at the child.
All of it was unpleasant.
Just because it was aimed at this child.
“…….”
But,
What I hated the most was—
The way this child shrank back as if she had done something wrong.
“It’s okay.”
“…….”
The child quietly steadied her breath in my arms.
Without slowing my steps, I gently stroked her back.
“It’s okay.”
I whispered it again.
Slowly,
The child’s shoulders relaxed, and she nestled deeper into my embrace.
That was a relief.
My clumsy words had reached them in the form of comfort.
As I turned my gaze away from the child,
A familiar sign came into view just ahead.
“The bookstore. We’re here.”
“…….”
I paused as I reached for the doorknob.
Would the bookstore owner be like the others?
Would they look at the child with that same kind of gaze?
For a moment, I hesitated.
I didn’t want to see this child shrink back again.
Carefully, I studied the small face peeking out from the robe.
The child met my eyes.
Perhaps because I’d suddenly stopped, she looked puzzled.
“?”
“…Hey, can you cover your ears with both hands?”
The child tilted her head for a moment before obediently covering her ears.
The sight of her small hands struggling to cover them was a little endearing.
I used the edge of my robe to shield the child’s face.
“Good job.”
“…….”
“Sorry. I don’t know enough, so I have to ask you things like this.”
Does he even hear me?
The child, who had been staring blankly at me, slowly shook his head.
I turned the doorknob.
With the sound of an old bell ringing, the door opened.
“Come in.”
“…Yeah.”
The same relaxed and calm greeting as yesterday.
The old man stopped organizing the books and looked up.
Our eyes met.
The corners of the old man’s lips lifted slightly.
“You….”
He walked toward me, stepping around piles of books.
“You came again.”
“I have something I’m curious about.”
“I see. What is it?”
Why?
My hands clenched a little tighter.
I lowered the hem of my robe slightly, revealing the child.
“…This kid. How old do you think he is?”
“…….”
A long silence.
I held the child tighter.
The wordless gaze felt strangely uncomfortable.
The old man stayed silent for a while.
Just standing still,
For a very long time,
As if looking not at the child, but at something beyond.
After staring at the child, the old man slowly raised his head.
“He’s not a baby.”
“…Yeah?”
His voice was exactly the same as yesterday.
At his softly spoken words,
My stiff shoulders relaxed slightly.
The old man, who had been looking back and forth between us, let out a light laugh.
“You really can’t tell the difference between a child and a baby, can you?”
“Yeah.”
“…Haha.”
The old man narrowed his eyes slightly and shook his head.
There was no mockery or wariness in that laugh.
Only the ease and tolerance of someone who had lived a long life.
“This child is probably… around six or seven, I’d say.”
“I see. So I shouldn’t feed him formula.”
“…You really are learning everything from scratch, aren’t you?”
I nodded.
The old man let out another idle laugh.
The old man lowered the corners of his lips and turned his gaze back to the child.
That gaze was quiet and deep, as if holding many unspoken things.
“Ah. So the child you picked up was this one.”
“Do you know this child?”
“…A little. When you said you found them in the ruins, I had a suspicion.”
“You did?”
“You said it was a baby, so I thought it couldn’t be this one.”
The old man bowed his head slightly toward the child.
After a brief hesitation, the child slowly lowered her hands, which had been covering her ears.
And then,
The child gently leaned her head against my chest.
For a fleeting moment, the old man and the child’s eyes met.
“…That’s a relief.”
“……”
The child gave a small nod.
Had something passed between them in that brief exchange?
It felt a little strange to me.
A short moment of peace flowed by.
Then, as if breaking that peace, the child’s stomach growled again.
In the quiet room, the sound was louder than expected.
Both the old man and I blinked at the same time.
“Did you not eat breakfast?”
“Yeah. I came to buy some, but the child wouldn’t sell it to me.”
The old man frowned slightly.
“…You mean the food stall next door?”
“Yeah.”
“…I see.”
Nodding faintly, the old man turned toward the counter.
With a sigh,
He pulled open a drawer with practiced ease.
Then, he took out something small wrapped in a cloth.
Inside were a palm-sized piece of bread and a few dried fruit slices.
“It’s not much, but you can share this.”
“Are you sure?”
The old man nodded and held out the bread to the child.
“Here, little one, you can eat.”
“……”
The child hesitated.
The child glanced at me and tightened her grip slightly.
I gave a quiet nod.
Only then did the child cautiously reach out.
Her small hand clutched the bread tightly.
Then, slowly— very slowly— the child brought it to her mouth.
“……!”
The child’s cheeks were slightly flushed.
The speed at which she was eating had increased.
The old man chuckled and handed her a glass of water from beside the counter.
“Eat slowly. Here, have some water too.”
“……!”
“Is this baby food?”
“…You really are something.”
The old man gave a bitter smile and shook his head.
“This is just a snack. Once the child can chew, she doesn’t need baby food anymore.”
“I see. Then what should I feed her?”
“…You really are unusual. Just give her something mild and easy to digest.”
“I don’t even know what that is.”
The old man let out another hearty laugh.
Then, he stepped out from behind the counter and headed toward the shelves.
A short while later, he returned,
holding a thick book with large illustrations of human food.
The old man opened the book and showed it to me.
“Here, look. These are the kinds of foods suitable for children.”
“…I see.”
I slowly flipped through the pages.
It seemed to be a book about cooking methods.
The colorful pictures and complicated explanations made my head spin.
‘Are all of these really food?’
But,
I didn’t even know the names of these dishes.
Some had ingredients I’d never seen before,
and for others, I couldn’t even guess how to eat them.
After skimming to the end, I closed the book.
“…This is difficult.”
“Hoho, that’s understandable.”
“I’ll buy this book.”
“I thought you might.”
The old man opened the drawer again.
He took out a pen and a thick notepad, then walked over to me.
“Give me a moment. I’ll jot down some simple recipes for beginners.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
As the old man carefully turned the pages, he suddenly paused.
He looked at the child nestled in my arms.
When the child noticed the old man watching her, she set down the dried fruit she had been eating.
“……?”
“Little miss, why don’t you stay over there for a while? This might take some time.”
“…….”
“In return, I’ll give you a book to read as a gift.”
The child glanced up at me, then back at the old man.
After a brief hesitation, her small hand carefully released its grip on my robe.
The old man smiled gently.
“Good. Come here.”
Holding the child, I slowly followed the old man.
The old man pulled out a thin book and placed it in the child’s hands.
“Here, this one has lots of pictures, so it shouldn’t be too hard to read.”
“……”
The child slowly flipped through the book.
Just as the old man had said, it was filled with charming little illustrations.
The child’s eyes sparkled.
“Heh, looks like you’re enjoying it. Well, this whole area is full of picture books, so read to your heart’s content.”
“…Thank you. I’ll pay for it.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
The old man brought over a chair.
Carefully, he set the child down on it.
The child’s gaze, which had been fixed on the book, wavered uneasily before settling on me.
“I’m watching. I’ll be right over there.”
“……”
The child nodded.
Listening to the sound of pages turning, I stood by the checkout counter.
The old man inspected the books again, meticulously jotting down notes one by one.
I stared down at him,
Watching intently.
“…Ah, right. I need to buy writing supplies too.”
“Is that so? Then I’ll give you these when we’re done.”
“The cost…”
“Don’t worry about it.”
The old man shook his head and focused on his notes.
His hand, which had been moving busily for a while, gradually slowed.
Instead,
His tightly pressed lips trembled slightly.
As if he had something to say.
After observing him for a moment, I spoke first.
“Why?”
“Don’t dwell on it too much.”
“On what?”
“…Not everyone in this town is like that.”
I silently studied the old man.
He met my gaze briefly before lowering the pen in his hand.
“That grocery stall owner… well, he’s got some built-up resentment.”
“…About what?”
“The child’s parents, you see. The child’s parents did some terrible things to him.”
“Terrible things?”
The old man let out a low sigh.
Tapping the counter slowly, he continued.
“That child’s parents… she was wealthy and had some influence.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. she acted as if her word was law. Claimed there was nothing money couldn’t solve.”
‘In the end, it was all meaningless.’
The old man muttered under his breath before going on.
“That stall owner suffered under them—endured all kinds of oppression and disdain. The child even extorted his shop through ruthless means.”
“…I see.”
“In the process, the owner’s wife also fell ill and passed away.”
I was lost in thought for a moment.
If the old man’s words were true…
Then the child’s parents were indeed at fault.
The grocery store owner’s sharp attitude was understandable.
But—
“It’s not the child’s fault.”
The old man’s gaze slowly rose and turned toward me.
I spoke in a slightly firmer voice.
“Why take it out on the child?”
“To the child, there may be no sin, but to the eyes of those who hold resentment, it’s not so simple.”
“……”
My clenched fist tightened slightly.
Unaware of my reaction, the old man continued calmly.
“You’re right. It’s not the child’s fault. That’s why I said it’s fortunate that you took them in.”
“Fortunate…”
“You may be inexperienced, but you have the sincerity to care for the child— that’s what matters.”
The old man focused on the memo again.
The sound of the pen moving across the paper
felt heavier and more laborious than before.
Slowly, I turned to look at the child.
The child was completely absorbed in a book,
kicking her legs excitedly as she flipped through the picture book.
‘…I must never let anyone find out she’re a dark dragon.’
A small weight in my heart settled just a little.
0 Comments