Sara stood at the doorway, hesitating whether or not she should turn and run away.

“Stop wasting time,” said the orphanage mother, giving her a push from behind. “No one will bite you.”

Even as she said this, two children came tearing down the hall screaming. One of them tackled the other to the ground in a tangle of snarls and teeth.

“Leona!” Mother Chansel gasped. She pried the little girl off her victim and held her up by the back of her shirt. “What is the meaning of this?”

The little girl flailed her tiny legs. She had a thin, fluffy tail that lashed against Mother Chansel’s leg.

“He stole Likar’s drawing!” she said, and pointed at the other child, who was on the ground sobbing.

Mother Chansel sighed. “I do not care for this,” she said, turning to Sara. “How old are you, girl?”

“Thirteen.”

“Old enough to work, then.” Mother Chansel threw Leona over her shoulder and started down the hallway. “Get yourself upstairs and cleaned, then come down for dinner. Your first meal is free. The rest you work for.” She went away, leaving Sara at the entrance with the crying boy.

Sara crouched down. She cleared her throat and started to say something, but the boy threw down the crumpled bit of paper in his hands and ran off.

Sara picked up the paper. It was a drawing of a family, four kids with two humongous adults towering over them. From the looks of it, the father was the only one in the picture who was human, or at least didn’t have any animal parts attached to him. On the bottom corner was scribbled a name, though the lettering was too messy for Sara to try read it. She folded the drawing neatly and went into the orphanage, remembering the name the angry little girl had said - Likar.

There was a bath upstairs. It wasn’t filled but that wasn’t a problem. Sara had a spell called Make Water. She raised her hands above the wooden tub and got ready to try it.

“What are you doing?” Jack spoke up.

“Uh. Making water?”

“You’re at 99 chaos, aren’t you?”

Sara lowered her hands. “So?”

“Using magic increases chaos,” Jack told her. “One spell is one point.”

Sara backed away from the bathtub. “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”

“I thought you knew,” Jack laughed. “For someone who was always at the top of her class, you’re a little slow on these things.”

There were two buckets next to the tub, connected by rope to a pole. Sara sighed and picked them up. “For someone without a tongue, you’re very chatty.”

It took four hours for Sara to get enough water, heat it up, and wash herself. But it was worth it. When the water rushed to her chin, she let out a moan so loud it made her own cheeks blush. She scrubbed herself raw, soaking until the water started going cold. She dried and combed her hair, battling the knots that had days to form. A fresh set of clothes were laid out on one of the beds in the upstairs rooms. Sara picked through them, noticing with increased irritation that it was a maid uniform. She was still glad to have proper clothing, though, and the headgear was cute enough.

Before going downstairs, she took Jack from one of the drawers in the bathroom, stuffing him inside a spare backpack she found.

“I’d prefer not to be in a cramped dark space,” Jack said.

“Maybe you should’ve thought about that before turning yourself into a child’s nightmare fuel,” Sara replied.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

By the time she descended to the ground floor, it was dinner time. The sweet smell of roasted vegetables wafted down the hallways, making her mouth water. She followed the scent to the main hall and found the kids sitting around one long table. Behind them, maids roughly Sara’s age hurried about, scooping food onto plates and sweeping up messes. At the head of the table sat Mother Chansel, a napkin tucked into the neck of her tight blouse.

“You’ve finally decided to join us,” she said without looking up at Sara. “Find a seat. Watch how you’re served. I expect the same thing from you starting tomorrow.”

Sara scanned for a vacant chair. There was one next to a boy with a leopard face and pointy yellow ears, near the very end. Sara pulled out the chair and sat, barely able to get her knees under the table.

“My name is Likar.” The boy introduced himself through a mouthful of potato.

“What are the chances,” Sara said. A plate was set in front of her, and she looked behind to see a dark-haired girl eyeing her curiously. The girl had sharp, feline features, and a pair of black cat ears twitching on top of her head.

Likar shoveled a heaping of gravy onto Sara’s plate. “Here, try this. It’s awesome.”

Sara smiled gratefully. “I can take care of myself, but thanks.” She reached for one of the meat dishes, splitting it with Likar.

“Are you a forest-dweller?” the boy asked brightly. “Like Gweyn?”

“No idea who or what that is.” Sara ate slowly, savoring the taste of cooked flesh. She had to admit something was lost by having the creature cut and cooked, but she didn’t want to complain, especially when she didn’t even need to do any hunting.

“Oh, that’s right…” Sara reached into her pocket. “Likar, is this yours?”

Likar took the piece of paper and unfolded it. His eyes widened and he squealed, “My drawing!” He showed it to the girl sitting next to him. “Leona, look! My drawing is back.”

The scruffy girl with the scary eyes glanced over and smiled. Leaning across the table, she made eye contact with Sara and said, “Thanks.”

Sara nodded. She turned to focus on her food, but Likar started talking to her, probably thinking her kindness was an invitation to be conversational.

“Where did you come from?”

“Far, far away.”

“Are you a traveler also?”

“Meh.”

“Do you have a ghost lady inside you as well?”

“…What?”

“Likar,” said Leona. “Eat your vegetables.”

Likar pouted, but did what he was told.

After dinner, Mother Chansel ordered the maids to clean up while she herded the children to do their evening activities.

“You help too, girl.”

Sara would’ve stayed behind anyway on principle, but something about Chansel’s attitude towards her rubbed her the wrong way. She didn’t like to be called just girl, but she supposed it was better than being addressed like some object or robot, as she heard the other maids being called.

Gathering her plates and those around her, she carried them over to the kitchen.

The cat-eared girl was at the sink, up to her elbows in bubbles. Her headgear had slipped a little, and strands of her black hair wavered in front of her face. She kept blowing at it but the strands just kept coming back.

“Let me.” Sara dumped the plates into the dirty bucket, wiped her hands on her skirt and reached up to adjust the other girl’s headband. When her fingers brushed against the girl’s ears, they twitched and she made a little sound that made Sara’s chest flutter.

She wanted to grab a handful of that soft fur, but stepped away before she could give in to the temptation.

“There. Done.”

The girl turned and flashed a smile that changed her. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Sara said. “I’m Sara, by the way.”

“Taiga,” said the girl. “And thanks for getting Likar’s drawing back to him. I’d shake your hand but, well.” She lifted hers from the sink, dripping with bubbles.

Sara laughed. “I don’t mind.” She reached out and took Taiga’s hands, shaking them once. Taiga’s hands were thin and calloused, and they reminded Sara of Sapphire’s hands.

She let go.

“You’re strong,” Taiga said. “And… remind me of someone.” She leaned in a little, her amber eyes narrowing.

“Girl.”

Sara turned, seeing Mother Cansel’s plush form taking up the doorframe. “Come here.”

Following the woman out into the dining room, Sara kept thinking about Taiga. The girl had the works - big eyes, long straight hair, and of course… cat.

She was pretty sure she saw similar figurines of the girl in Yuzuru’s room, many of them so risque he had to hide them behind his other memorabilia.

Mother Cansel stopped in the hallway. “I don’t pay you,” she said. “I can’t. All the donations we receive go straight into supplies and food.”

Sara frowned. “So I’m supposed to live off good intentions and toxic optimism?”

She expected Cansel to be angry, but the woman chuckled and placed a wrinkled hand on her shoulder. “You remind me of someone, you know?”

“I’ve been getting a lot of that lately,” Sara replied.

Mother Cansel smiled. “Myself, just younger. And goddess forbid me from saying… prettier.” Her eyes traced Sara’s body, from head to toe then back up. “Yes, I do believe you’ll bring in your fair share of donations. The hair makes you look like a Stryde, and those eyes… The lords will eat you up.”

“Whoa, whoa.” Sara swept Mother Cansel’s hand off her and stepped away. “I’m not doing anything that involves any sort of touching or undressing, alright? Nothing kids can’t see.”

“Oh, it won’t be like that,” Mother Cansel said with an offhanded wave. “I’ll just be working you to the bone, as I do with all the lovely ladies who have nowhere else in this city to go.” She picked a bit of food from Sara’s collar, making a face before flicking it away. “The rooms upstairs are for you. Find a bed that’s not taken and you can stay there as long as you continue working. Can you cook?”

Sara nodded, then shook her head.

“Then you better start learning.”