After successfully finishing the Christmas party, I started getting ready to leave. Hm. That took longer than I expected.
But now, with the orphanage quest completed and the envelope of reward money Kikuko had given me in hand, I was ready to head to Edgar’s shop to buy the ring.
“Thanks for today, Abel,” Kikuko said, giving me a drink. “Because of you, this Christmas was a great success. I’ve been doing this job for thirty years now, and I think this is the most lively it’s ever been.”
That makes sense. To me, the money for the job wasn’t my primary goal. I’m just glad that she’s satisfied with my work.
“By the way, you mentioned that you grew up in an orphanage, didn’t you?” she asked.
“Yeah. Though it was a while ago.”
“It’s hard for me to believe that even you were a child once. I’m still surprised by how mature you are for your age.”
I fell silent. Kikuko wasn’t wrong at all. After all, if you added up the years I lived before and after my reincarnation, I’d lived for over forty years. My mind had matured to that of an adult’s. But when I said that I’d grown up in an orphanage “a while ago,” she was probably only picturing just a few years back.
“I’m sure that whoever raised you must’ve been a wonderful person,” she said.
I paused before answering. “Yeah... He was.” I see. I guess I did talk to her about the one who raised me: Garius.
I couldn’t help but recall the day I’d killed him—how he’d called me a monster. That tragedy was still fresh in my mind, like it had happened yesterday. On that day, I’d killed the man who’d essentially been my father.
By no means had he been what the public would consider a good person. Sacrificing kids for your own research might’ve been in line with what others were doing then, but it was still an unforgivable act.
Even so, what I didn’t understand was that despite the fact he betrayed me so terribly, I just couldn’t bring myself to hate him.
“Abel, you’re going already?!” The kids—who I had spent so much time with and who were now familiar to me—asked, overhearing my conversation with Kikuko. “When are you gonna come again?! Don’t tell me you’re just gonna leave forever!”
“It’s not goodbye forever. I’ll stop by when I feel like it.”
From what I learned, Christmas wasn’t the only event that the orphanage had. In the spring they went flower viewing, and in the summer they had a barbeque. If they ever were shorthanded again, it would be the perfect opportunity to get some pocket change.
“It’s a promise, okay?! I’m still practicing the magecraft you taught me!”
“You have to come again! I’m gonna become an amazing mage like you!”
Good grief. It’s no surprise they’d get attached to me, considering how much I took care of them. But surprisingly, it doesn’t feel too bad at all.
Was this how Garius felt, raising me?