As I finished stacking the last plate into the cabinet, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed behind me. Two young girls bolted toward the kitchen door, their voices bubbling with excitement.

“We’re going out to play now!” they shouted in unison, their energy filling the room.

Tina, standing near the sink with a damp towel in her hand, turned to them with a stern but familiar tone. “Hey! Don’t forget—you two have lessons with Sister Yami later!”

“We will!” they called back without slowing down, their laughter trailing behind as they disappeared into the hallway.

Another girl lingered by the doorway, brushing crumbs off her apron. “I’ve got something to do too,” she said casually, avoiding eye contact.

Tina gave her a quick nod. “Well, thanks for the help.”

Without another word, the girl slipped out, leaving the kitchen quieter. The only ones remaining were Tina, Ivy, Brina, and me.

Tina, an 11-year-old with short blond hair that framed her sharp, determined face, turned to me with a warm smile. “Thanks for your help with the dishes, Gain.”

Ivy, a lively 12-year-old with twin-tails of chestnut-brown hair, leaned against the counter, her mischievous grin lighting up her freckled face. “Yeah, not all boys like cleaning dishes. Especially a boy like you, hehehe!”

Brina, the quieter one, nodded in agreement. She was Tina’s age, with swirls of fiery red hair cascading to her shoulders and a scattering of freckles that softened her serious demeanor.

I shrugged, feeling a little awkward under their attention. “I didn’t do much, really. You three did most of the work.”

Tina smirked, crossing her arms. “What are you talking about? Weren’t you the one helping Sister Anna cook? You practically made half the meal.”

“That’s right!” Ivy chimed in, her eyes wide with enthusiasm. “The food’s been so good lately—especially that apple tart we had for lunch. It was amazing!”

Brina tilted her head, her thoughtful expression turning to admiration. “You’re really talented for someone who’s new here, Gain. I’ve been practicing cooking for weeks, and I still can’t cook like you.”

I paused, forcing a modest smile. If they only knew—I had far more experience than they could imagine, thanks to my previous life. “Well, if you want, big sis Brina, I could help you practice sometime. You know, if we have spare ingredients.”

Brina’s eyes lit up, her usual calm demeanor replaced with excitement. “Really? You’d help me? That’d be fantastic!”

Tina perked up, her hands on her hips. “Hey, what about us? We want to learn to cook too!”

“Yeah, yeah!” Ivy added, bouncing on her heels.

I sighed inwardly. Cooking lessons sounded fun, but the orphanage barely had enough ingredients to feed everyone, let alone experiment. Meat was scarce, often used sparingly for flavor, and even the vegetables from the garden were rationed.

“If we can get enough extra ingredients,” I said carefully, “I’d be happy to teach all of you.”

They seemed content with my answer, and the conversation shifted.

After a moment, I hesitated, a question that had been on my mind slipping out. “By the way, isn’t this orphanage a bit… full? There are so many kids here for such a small town.”

Tina’s expression softened, her usual confidence giving way to a quiet sadness. “You noticed, huh? Yeah, it’s crowded. But that’s because most of the kids aren’t from here.”

“They’re not?” I asked, tilting my head.

Tina shook her head. “No. A lot of them are evacuees. There was a war in the west about a year ago. Most of the kids here lost their parents in it. This town was one of the few places they could be evacuated to.”

I nodded slowly, her words sinking in. It explained the somber looks I’d seen on some of the younger kids—the longing in their eyes when they thought no one was watching.

Ivy suddenly turned to me, her curiosity as sharp as ever. “What about you, Gain? Aren’t you from that country? I thought you were one of them.”

My chest tightened. Crap. I had no idea where this body’s previous owner had come from. I needed a vague but believable excuse—and fast.

“No,” I said, keeping my tone light. “We lived in isolation. Up in the mountains. So, we weren’t really part of that country.”

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Brina’s eyes widened, her expression turning curious. “Your family lived in isolation? That’s interesting. I guess that’s where you got your mature personality.”

Ivy frowned, crossing her arms. “Hey, isn’t that supposed to have the opposite effect? Like, shouldn’t you be more childish since you wouldn’t know much about the outside world?”

Tina rolled her eyes, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “You’re such an idiot, Ivy. You’re probably thinking of some storybook where the princess doesn’t know anything about the world and goes on an adventure with a prince.”

Ivy’s face flushed, and she straightened up defensively. “No, I’m not! That’s not where I got it!”

Brina giggled softly. “She’s right, you know. That is from a storybook.”

“It’s not!” Ivy shot back, her voice rising.

As their argument spiraled into playful bickering, I decided it was my cue to leave. Quietly, I slipped out of the kitchen, their voices fading behind me.

Walking down the dim hallway, I let my thoughts wander. The orphanage, despite housing so many children, wasn’t in a dire state. The caretakers managed to provide for us well enough, even if the meals were simple and resources carefully rationed. Still, I couldn’t help but think it would be better to have additional ways to sustain ourselves.

Ideas from my previous life flickered through my mind—methods to optimize gardening, ensuring proper irrigation, and techniques like pruning and pinching to maximize growth. We could grow more if we just used the right methods.

And then there was livestock. Chickens for eggs, maybe even a cow for milk. The thought was tempting, but it came with its own challenges. Livestock required an initial investment, and the upkeep wasn’t cheap. Different breeds would need special care, not to mention proper shelter and feed.

Maybe I should find a way to earn money. But would anyone hire an 8-year-old like me? Probably not. This would have to stay my little secret for now.

Determined, I left the orphanage and started down the dirt road leading to town. The air was crisp, the scent of earth and distant trees lingering around me. My thoughts drifted as I walked, considering what kind of work I might find.

Suddenly, a strange noise broke through the quiet. It was faint at first, like the sound of rushing air, but it grew louder. My heart skipped a beat as I froze in place, scanning the area.

“What the—?” My voice faltered as I spotted something ahead.

A sudden, sharp gust of wind slashed through the air, almost like something out of a video game. The unnatural motion made my instincts scream danger, and I braced myself, throwing my arms up as if to shield against an invisible force.

“Ahhh!!!” I yelled, fully expecting to be struck.

But nothing happened.

A weak breeze brushed past me, and everything went still. Slowly, I lowered my arms and glanced around. Nothing was out of place.

I let out a shaky laugh, the adrenaline making me feel silly. “Okay, that was… melodramatic of me. How embarrassing.”

Still, I couldn’t shake the unease. For a moment, I’d genuinely thought something was going to hit me. But now it seemed like it was all in my head.

Then again, this was a world of magic. Things here didn’t always make sense. Perhaps I’d imagined it, or maybe it was something mundane that I just didn’t understand yet.

Shaking off the strange encounter, I focused on the task ahead. I needed to find a job, no matter how small. I took a deep breath and continued down the road, my resolve hardening.

----------------------------------------

The clearing was eerily quiet, the faint rustle of leaves and chirping of birds the only sounds breaking the stillness. Just moments ago, this place had been calm—until two figures arrived, both clad in adventurer's gear. Their contrasting demeanors immediately set them apart.

The taller of the two, a man with a stern expression and short black hair, turned to his companion with an exasperated glare. “You idiot! How many times do I have to tell you not to use that spell recklessly?”

The other, younger and noticeably more nervous, scratched the back of his head, his red hair sticking up in awkward angles. “I’m sorry! I thought no one would be around here…”

The taller man groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That’s not the point! If you wanted to use Wind Blade, you should’ve practiced at the adventurers' guild training grounds, not in the middle of nowhere!”

The younger one’s face paled as panic set in. “W-What if I… What if I accidentally hurt someone? Or worse…” He gulped. “What if I killed someone? Oh no, what if I murdered someone?!”

“Calm down,” the taller man snapped, his voice sharp as he smacked his companion on the back of the head. “We don’t even know if anyone was here.”

“But I heard a scream!” the younger adventurer insisted, his voice rising. “What if they’re dead? What if I become a wanted criminal? I don’t want to spend my life on the run! Bro, you have to help me!”

The older man sighed heavily, rubbing his temples as if regretting every life decision that led him to this moment. “Enough. Let’s just check the area, and if we find anything, we’ll deal with it. If not, then we’ll count ourselves lucky.”

With cautious steps, they approached the spot where the spell had landed. The taller man scanned the ground, his sharp eyes searching for any sign of damage—or worse.

“Huh?” His voice broke the silence, his brow furrowing.

“What is it?” the younger one asked, his voice trembling. “Do you see… blood? Oh no, there’s blood, isn’t there?! I knew it! I’m a murderer!”

The older adventurer turned to glare at him before delivering a sharp punch to his arm. “Shut up, you idiot. Nobody’s dead.”

“Huh?” The younger one blinked, his gaze darting to the area. There was nothing—no signs of damage, no trails of blood, and certainly no bodies. Just an undisturbed patch of grass swaying gently in the breeze.

“Nobody’s dead?” he repeated, relief washing over his face. “Nobody’s dead! Haha, thank the gods!”

“You should be thankful there’s no one here,” the older man growled. “If someone had been nearby, they could’ve been seriously hurt—or worse. Especially if it was a kid. Do you even understand how reckless you were?”

“Y-Yeah, I get it,” the younger adventurer muttered, his shoulders slumping as he stared at the ground. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen…”

The older man let out a heavy sigh, his frustration giving way to a hint of exasperated concern. “Look, just think before you act next time. Magic isn’t a toy, and this isn’t some training exercise. Out here, mistakes have real consequences.”

The younger one nodded meekly, his earlier panic replaced by a dejected silence. “Yeah… I’ll be more careful. Promise.”

“You’d better,” the older man muttered before glancing around one last time. Satisfied that there was no damage—or victims—they turned and began making their way back toward the road.