After Alenya finished saying the name of the dish, she turned her attention back to cooking once more.
A faint, pleasant aroma of butter melting in the pan slowly drifted to my nose. It was an ordinary scent—one many people would be familiar with—but for me, at this moment, it felt strangely special.
I simply sat there, quietly watching her movements. Watching the flame burning beneath the pan. Watching her hands move with practiced ease. At the same time, my thoughts drifted toward what might come next.
A future I couldn't yet see, and a role I still wasn't sure how I was supposed to play.
Then, a sound cut through the silence.
"Thud…"
It wasn't loud—just the soft sound of a door brushing against its frame—but it was clear enough to pull my attention back instantly.
I slowly turned my gaze toward the door.
And in that very moment, I saw two children standing there—two children who were clearly different from one another.
The first was a boy with light orange hair, neatly cut short. His emerald-green eyes shone brightly, and a wide smile rested on his face—a kind of smile that seemed to brighten the surrounding atmosphere without anyone realizing it. His build matched that of a boy around fifteen years old, which I guessed was likely his age. The clothes he wore resembled an adventurer's outfit—practical, agile, and suited for action—and for him, it seemed perfectly natural.
The other child—
A girl with white hair like strands of silk, long and smooth. Her clear blue eyes were deep and wide, like a calm ocean hiding immense power beneath its surface. Her skin was pale as snow. Her face was gentle and beautiful—so beautiful that I had to admit it honestly: she was more beautiful than anyone I had ever met. The white dress she wore was simple, yet clean and pure.
It only made her stand out even more from her surroundings. That elegance made me freeze for a moment—
U-until I managed to pull myself back together.
The boy was the first to move. His eyes swept across the room, filled with curiosity, as if he were assessing the situation.
Then, finally,
His gaze stopped on me.
The bright smile he had at first shifted into concern for just a moment, before changing into clear relief and joy.
…At least, that was what I could read from his expression.
It seemed Asfinne really knew this child.
My heart beat a little faster. My gaze wavered—not from fear, but from something slowly forming inside me.
What if he knew the truth?
What if he knew that the person standing in front of him—
Wasn't the same Asfinne as before?
That look in his eyes would surely change. Completely. It might even become the exact opposite of what it was now.
So I slowly raised a smile.
A smile of happiness.
A smile that should belong to Asfinne.
Even though my insides were filled with other hidden emotions.
Still, I chose to act.
To show them—
That I was Asfinne.
And in the very next moment,
The boy rushed toward me and threw his arms around me in a tight hug.
"Hey, Fin! I was really worried about you, you know!"
The impact nearly made me lose my balance. His weight was enough to almost knock me over—but what felt heavier than that—
Was my heart.
This pain didn't come from my body.
It came from my mind.
His words were full of joy, yet small tears welled in his eyes.
I slowly raised my hand and smiled gently.
"I know… thank you so much, Galax."
That name surfaced in my mind naturally.
Galax.
From his attitude, his reaction, the sincerity in his eyes—I was certain the person in front of me was Galax. Alenya's words resurfaced in my memory.
"Galax will probably be overjoyed if he sees you."
It seemed—
That was true.
I slowly lifted my gaze toward Alenya, the caretaker of this place. Her warm smile met my eyes immediately.
Yes…
It looked like she had already expected Galax to react this way. And the fact that she showed no surprise only confirmed it further—
This child
Was truly Galax.
Otherwise, she would have reacted differently.
Galax slowly released me.
"S-sorry… I just got too excited…"
I nodded with a warm smile—one that no one could tell whether it was genuine or not.
Not even me.
I didn't know what I was feeling anymore.
Guilt.
Sadness.
Pity.
Empathy?
I began to understand how others must have felt when they looked at me in the past…
What it was like to feel compassion on someone else's behalf.
"It's okay…"
I said lightly.
"Just seeing how happy you are makes the pain go away."
I let out a small laugh.
And the others laughed along with me, thinking I was actually hurt from Galax's tight hug.
But that wasn't it…
"I'm glad you're all so close."
The voice came from beside me—from behind.
It was Galax.
"The bond between companions is important. You should treasure times like this as much as you can."
Her words sounded nostalgic—
She must be thinking about the time she spent at this orphanage.
We exchanged glances and understood Alenya's meaning without needing to say anything, before Galax spoke up.
"I understand, Mom."
Mom, huh.
A way of addressing someone that created closeness…
So warm…
For someone like me, who rarely had what could be called feelings or emotions—
Because my life had always been about survival alone.
Galax slowly loosened his arms from around me. The tight embrace gradually eased, leaving behind only lingering warmth.
"Sorry… I just got too happy…"
He said, scratching the back of his neck shyly.
I nodded and returned a gentle smile—a smile no one could tell was real or merely a role I had chosen to wear.
Not even I could tell.
I didn't know what I was feeling right now.
Guilt.
Sadness.
Pity.
Empathy.
Or maybe all of them at once.
In that moment,
I finally understood how people used to look at me in the past—eyes full of compassion, eyes that wanted to help but didn't know how.
Ah…
So this is what it feels like
To "empathize with someone else."
"It's okay…"
I said casually.
"Just seeing you this happy makes the pain fade away."
I laughed softly to hide what I felt inside—a laugh natural enough to fool everyone. The others laughed along, probably thinking I really was hurt by Galax's hug.
But no…
The real pain lay much deeper.
"I'm really glad… that you're all this close."
That voice came from the side—it was Alenya. Her tone was gentle, filled with affection and something that sounded like… longing.
"The bond between companions is very important."
She continued.
"You should cherish moments of happiness like this as much as you can."
Her words sounded like advice, but beneath them was the feeling of reminiscing.
Perhaps…
She was thinking about the time she herself had spent in this orphanage. A time that might not have been perfect, but was filled with meaning.
We looked at each other without planning to, understanding what Alenya meant without further explanation.
Then Galax spoke up cheerfully.
"I understand… Mom."
That form of address made me pause slightly.
Mom.
A simple word, yet unexpectedly warm. A bond not tied by blood, but by care—
By time,
And by feeling.
Warm… truly warm.
For me—
Someone who had almost never had anything to hold onto that could be called "emotion" or "feeling."
Because every breath of my past life had been spent on survival.
No time to look back.
No room for weakness.
No chance for attachment.
And yet, in this brief moment, I began to wonder—
This world might hold something I had never known before.
Something perhaps even more dangerous than pain.
Because it made me not want to lose it.
I stood there quietly, watching their conversation with a warm feeling in my chest. Smiles, laughter, and a relaxed atmosphere filled the room.
It made me realize—
That my role in this moment was probably nothing more than to watch from a distance.
And perhaps…
Just watching was enough.
Until a voice rang out—Galax's voice, brimming with the curiosity typical of a boy his age.
"So today… what's for breakfast?"
His emerald-green eyes sparkled like a child waiting for a present.
Alenya paused her cooking slightly, then turned to look at me with confident eyes before answering clearly.
"Falon Fren Ess!"
Galax froze instantly. His expression showed shock and delight at the same time.
"Isn't that Big Brother Fin's dish!?"
"That's right."
Alenya replied immediately, her smile visibly proud.
"This was the very first dish Asfinne ever made."
She continued.
"And he said the name of the dish came from combining his name with the three ingredients: bacon, bread, and fried egg!"
Her final words were spoken clearly in English.
I froze slightly without realizing it.
…English?
A thought immediately surfaced.
Why did she know English?
Or did this world itself use English?
But if that were true, why didn't she show even the slightest surprise?
When the dish's name and the words used didn't match the language commonly spoken here.
Or perhaps—
She had suspected something long ago, and the original Asfinne had already explained everything to her.
I chose to keep that doubt to myself.
And listened carefully to the conversation, hoping new information might appear.
Galax turned to look at the clock hanging on the wall.
It was an old, round clock mounted on a faded concrete block wall.
Its wooden frame bore small scratches, dust gathering in the corners—clear signs of long use. Inside the clock face were three hands.
The first, the shortest, was red with a sharp tip, pointing between five and six. The second was medium-sized and blue, pointing near ten. And the final hand—the longest—was yellow, its sharp tip pointing directly at twelve, or zero.
Though I couldn't read the time with complete confidence, judging from the positions of all the hands, I guessed it was around five fifty.
Galax thought for a moment before his face lit up, as if he had remembered something.
"It's almost breakfast time!"
He said enthusiastically.
"Only ten more minutes! I'll go call the others first!"
Alenya smiled gently and nodded.
"Alright then. See you again at breakfast."
The white-haired girl standing beside him simply watched Galax quietly, saying nothing.
Galax turned back toward me and the white-haired girl, then walked closer. He reached out and lightly grabbed her wrist.
"Fin."
He spoke in a slightly more serious tone.
"Please take care of Meriana."
The short sentence carried with it a quiet trust—
And a responsibility silently passed on to me.