Year X770 —
Location: Rosemary Village
Age: Ren (5) | Erza (5)
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The smell of burnt porridge filled the air.
Ren stared into the pot, wooden spoon trembling in his hands.
"…It's not that bad," he muttered hopefully.
The porridge bubbled ominously.
Erza leaned over, peered inside once—and immediately stepped back.
"…It's black."
"It's golden," Ren corrected stubbornly. "Extra golden."
"You burned it."
Ren puffed his cheeks. "Cooking is hard!"
The elderly woman who had reluctantly agreed to let them use her kitchen laughed softly. "That's why you stir, boy. Not glare at it."
Ren yelped. "I was stirring!"
> [Great Sage: Analysis — Excessive heat exposure. Suggest lowering flame by 37%. Stirring rhythm inconsistent.]
Ren groaned internally.
> Why didn't you tell me earlier?!
> [Great Sage: Counterpoint — Failure is an effective learning stimulus at this developmental stage.]
"…You enjoy this, don't you," Ren whispered.
Erza crossed her arms. "…Why are we even doing this?"
Ren brightened instantly, childish grin snapping back into place.
"Because if we're strong but hungry, that's sad!"
"…That makes no sense."
"It does to me!"
He turned back to the pot, stirring more carefully this time.
> [Great Sage: Improvement detected. Suggestion — Add water slowly.]
Ren followed the instruction, tongue sticking out in concentration.
A few minutes later—
"…It smells normal," Erza admitted reluctantly.
Ren beamed like he'd just conquered the world.
"See?! I told you!"
She took a cautious bite.
"…It's… okay."
Ren gasped. "That's high praise!"
Her mouth twitched.
They ate quietly.
Ren watched Erza carefully as she chewed—how she ate too fast, like the food might disappear if she didn't. His chest tightened.
> [Great Sage: Observation — Subject exhibits food insecurity patterns.]
Ren clenched his spoon.
> I'll fix that too.
After breakfast, they moved to the small clearing near the forest.
Erza warmed up immediately, wooden sword in hand.
Ren sat on a rock, chin in his palms.
"Okay! Moon breathing time!"
"…You named it already?"
"Of course!"
She sighed. "You're terrible at naming things."
Ren giggled. "Maybe! But it fits you!"
Erza took her stance.
Ren's expression shifted—focused, observant.
> [Great Sage: Suggestion — Correct Erza's foot placement. Current stance wastes 11% force.]
Ren hopped up and moved beside her.
"Your feet," he said gently, tapping the ground. "Like this. A little sideways."
"…Why?"
"So you don't fall over!"
She adjusted reluctantly.
Ren nodded. "Good!"
She swung.
Cleaner. Sharper.
Erza paused. "…That felt better."
Ren clapped excitedly. "Yay!"
She glared. "…Stop cheering."
"But you did great!"
She turned away, cheeks faintly red.
They trained like that for hours—short bursts, careful rest. Ren never pushed her too far.
> [Great Sage: Advisory — Balance praise with constructive correction to avoid emotional dependence.]
Ren nodded internally.
"…Your timing's good," he said more calmly. "But your breathing's rushing."
She frowned. "I'm not scared."
"I know," Ren said softly. "But your body thinks it needs to hurry."
She inhaled slowly, following his lead.
The air around her felt… quieter.
> [Great Sage: Moon Breathing Prototype stabilizing. Recommend continued low-intensity repetition.]
By midday, Erza collapsed onto the grass.
"…I'm tired."
Ren flopped down beside her dramatically.
"Me toooo!"
They stared up at the sky.
"…Ren," she said suddenly. "Why do you know so much?"
He stiffened.
> Careful.
He rolled onto his side and grinned.
"I read a lot!"
"…There are no books in your house."
"…I imagine books!"
She stared.
"…You're lying."
Ren laughed nervously. "Maybe a little!"
She didn't press.
Instead, she said quietly, "…Thank you. For helping."
Ren blinked.
Then smiled—soft, warm, and very childlike.
"Friends help each other," he said. "That's normal!"
Her fingers curled into the grass.
"…Then don't stop."
"I won't!"
That afternoon, Ren insisted they visit the village healer.
The healer raised an eyebrow. "You again?"
Ren saluted proudly. "I'm learning medicine!"
"…You're five."
"Yes!"
Erza watched skeptically as Ren listened intently, nodding far too seriously for his age.
> [Great Sage: Medical Knowledge Acquisition — Herbal identification prioritized. Warning: Human physiology in Fairy Tail world differs slightly from Earth memory.]
Ren repeated everything aloud, committing it to memory.
"Green leaves for fever… red roots for pain…"
Erza leaned closer. "…Why are you learning this?"
Ren paused.
"…Because swords hurt people," he said quietly. "I want to know how to heal too."
She swallowed.
Later, as the sun dipped low, Ren practiced sword drills while Erza watched.
"One strike!" he announced.
He swung—slow, controlled.
> [Great Sage: Suggestion — Adjust wrist angle by 3 degrees for optimal cut alignment.]
Ren corrected instantly.
Better.
Erza stepped forward.
"…Can you watch me too?"
Ren nodded eagerly. "Always!"
She swung.
He corrected.
She adjusted.
Again.
Again.
> [Great Sage: Synchronization between instructor and trainee increasing efficiency.]
When exhaustion finally claimed them, they sat by the river, feet dangling in the water.
Ren splashed suddenly.
"Attack!"
"HEY—!"
Erza retaliated.
Soon, both were soaked and laughing.
Ren laughed the loudest—high, carefree, completely five years old.
For a moment—
There was no fate.
No tragedy.
No future bloodshed.
Just two children.
As dusk fell, Ren looked at Erza quietly.
> We'll keep learning.
Cooking. Healing. Fighting.
Living.
> [Great Sage: Long-term Outcome — Shared daily life strengthens psychological resilience.]
Ren smiled.
"Tomorrow," he said brightly, "I'll teach you how to cook without burning things!"
"…I don't believe you."
"Hehehe!"
The sun disappeared.
The moon rose.
And in Rosemary Village, beneath a sky that did not yet know their names—
Two children trained not just to survive—
But to protect each other.
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End of Chapter 4 🌙☀️