Ch. 16 - Meal-Maker Girl

In the room we’d claimed as our quarters, the kids sat in a circle, faces pale with fear.

At the center, Abby crouched cross-legged, gnawing her nails, her expression so serious it was almost terrifying.

“Abby.”

I didn’t have anything in particular to say, but the children’s frightened faces irritated me, so I spoke anyway.

“—!”

At my voice, Abby leapt to her feet. Like a flipped switch, she rushed forward and engulfed me in a fervent hug.

“Good morning, Di!!”

“…Yeah. Morning, Abby.”

Ridiculous, perhaps, but in that moment, Abigail the Queen Bee and I, Dietrich Becker the No. 2, reconciled. Sometimes, a little ceremonial nonsense is what a group needs.

Ashita and Eva were nowhere to be seen. Alive? Dead? In the kids’ code, either was plausible.

The others stared at me and Zoë, trembling, silent as graves. I didn’t mind—silence had its own comfort, even in this hellish room.

“Welcome back! Di, I knew you’d understand me!”

“…Yeah.”

And so, breakfast began.

Porridge of mixed grains, bland but edible, lacking the stench of the church’s gruel. It was almost pleasant.

“So, Di, what’s the plan today?”

“Let’s see…”

I thought for a moment.

“Zoë and I will head to Alex’s clan house.”

“Eh?”

“Surprised? Wasn’t that what you set up?”

Alex’s clan had ten adventurers—my partners in the work to come. Checking the environment was the main reason for the visit, but I also wanted to show my face.

Besides—

“And Abby… you’re curious about soap, right? Can’t have idle hands.”

“…Soap?”

Her blank look lasted only a heartbeat before realization lit her eyes. She slapped her knee with delight.

“Right! That’s what we talked about!”

I explained again the essentials of traditional soap-making: oil and ash.

“First, we’ll do a trial batch. Nothing big. Just gather materials.”

“Not going big right away?”

“Big ideas come with big risks. Be careful, Abby. You understand that, don’t you?”

“…”

She paused, frowning, but her expression sharpened into deadly earnest.

“…Right. We’ll play it safe.”

She had another task as well: improving this shabby house and making it livable.

“And stock plenty of red stones and blue stones.”

Hand-stoking fires for daily tasks worked, but magical stones were more efficient—bathing, cooking, laundry, who knew what else.

“Easy to say, but…” Abby’s gaze dropped, her face sour.

I sighed. Penny-pinching was part of her nature, but these stones were worth the cost.

“Don’t worry about money. I’ll squeeze it out of that muscle-head.”

She grinned, sharp teeth flashing.

“Now that’s an idea I like. I’ll be counting on you, Di.”

Her words confirmed it—her own purse was thin.

“No problem. Leave it to me.”

I’d bleed her dry if necessary. Whether it hurt Alex, that remains to be seen.

◇◆

We headed to Alex’s clan. On the way, Zoë murmured.

“I did something bad to Ashita…”

“What do you mean?”

She looked down, uneasy, and explained in pieces.

“It was Eva. She kept running her mouth about you, Di, saying you were all talk, nothing special…”

“Yeah. Figures.”

Not surprising. Of course, Eva would say that. What surprised me was what came next.

“…So Ashita got mad. Said enough was enough.”

“That half-hearted idiot. What the hell does she want?”

Zoë shook her head, troubled.

“She said Di worked until he collapsed for everyone’s sake. How could Eva refuse to acknowledge that? She was furious. They almost fought…”

“…”

“…Then Zoë said, ‘Let me do it instead.’”

“I see.”

So it was Ashita who should have done it, but Zoë stopped her.

“I’m sorry…”

Zoë had been angry for my sake. How could I blame her? Her eyes welled up as she bowed her head. I stroked her hair gently.

The real problem was—

“Oni-girl. Where’s Ashita? Bring me her horn. Might be pointless, but I’ll try.”

She had taken Zoë’s place, sparing her from harm. If Abby had known that, she wouldn’t have punished her so harshly. But Ashita had stayed silent, accepting her fate.

I had to admit, my opinion of her had risen. One trash bin gone. 

That meant the remaining ones carried more weight.

◇◆

We found Ashita and Eva behind the longhouse.

Ashita’s broken horn was wrapped in a filthy cloth, stained with blood.

Both girls sat in silence, washing piles of vegetables in a water barrel. Eva swayed, unsteady. The missing tail was taking its toll. Her leggings hid the injury, but the movement betrayed her struggle.

They glanced at me, then returned to work without a word.

I clicked my tongue.

“What are you doing?”

Ashita answered, voice thin, muttering like a ghost.

“Meals…”

“Hah? That’s not your job.”

Zoë tugged my sleeve. Abby had a habit: anyone she found useless or rebellious, she punished by giving them the "meal-making" duty.

“If they’re no good for anything else, at least let them cook rice.”

Abby loved that line. Like a yakuza boss back home. In Japan, a thug without strength or guts was worthless. But you couldn’t let them loaf, so at least make them cook.

That explained why Eva bristled at being a “meal-maker.” Another reason to hate me.

“…I see. That explains it.”

I sank into thought. Zoë tugged my sleeve again, worried. Once I started thinking, I went too deep.

“Can I go back to work…?” Ashita mumbled.

What's up with her?

Ashita, once defiant, wouldn’t meet my eyes. Head lowered, voice weak. She was like a different person.

“…Wait. I’m not here to mock you. Sit down. I’ll reattach your horn.”

Both Ashita and Eva snapped their heads up, wide-eyed.

“Y-you can?”

“Yeah.”

A lie. Truth was, I didn’t know. Restoring a severed horn required precise knowledge and immense divine power—probably beyond me.

But I refused to disappoint the girl who had stood up for Zoë.

“Zoë, fetch clean water. Ashita, sit here. Show me the wound.”

Both paused, staring at me. Hope shone in their faces.

I didn’t yet understand what losing a horn or tail truly meant for ogres or beastkin.

If I had… I probably would have left them as they were. That would have been the “fair” thing.

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