Chapter 8

　　“You startled me…”

　　Elena yawned as she opened her bedroom door, jolting when she saw the man sitting on the sofa. He’s so quiet, I completely forgot I let a stranger sleep here.

　　Even after she had washed her face and come out, he remained perfectly still, as if bound by an unspoken order to wait. It would have been nice if he’d just left on his own. But it feels cruel to kick him out the moment he wakes up.

　　Sighing, she found a basket and held it out to him. He stared at it with his usual placid expression.

　　“Aren’t you going to eat breakfast?” At her question, he meekly took the basket. “You remember the vegetable patch, right? Go pick whatever you want to eat.”

　　The man shot to his feet and headed outside.

　　“Just bring back enough for us to eat!” she shouted after his confident stride, a feeling of unease prickling at her.

　　She heated the leftover bread and started frying bacon and ham from the pantry. Just as the delicious, sizzling smell began to fill the kitchen, the man returned.

　　“Are you planning to eat all of that…?”

　　He held a basket so precariously overstuffed with vegetables that it looked ready to collapse.

　　“There are two of us,” he stated simply.

　　Are you secretly a bear? That was enough food to make a person explode. He set the basket down in front of her.

　　“You saw the chicken coop behind the garden, right? Go get the eggs from there.”

　　“How many?”

　　“All of them. Oh, and don’t bother the chickens!” she warned, imagining one of her precious hens being accidentally crushed by his careless touch.

　　He gave a silent nod and went back outside. The moment Elena began to wash the vegetables, a commotion erupted.

　　Cluck, cluck!

　　Cluck, cluck, BRAWK!

　　The yard exploded in chaos as the chickens raised the alarm, having spotted the intruder.

　　“The girls seem especially feisty today,” she muttered to herself. The squawking, which sounded more like shrieking, went on for quite some time. He was clearly having trouble getting the eggs. If he had used even a fraction of his strength, the chickens would have been easily subdued. If he’d so much as leaked a bit of killing intent, they would have scattered. But he wasn’t doing either.

　　He seems to listen well, at least. He was obeying her order not to harm the chickens, which explained the prolonged rebellion. He still hadn’t returned by the time she finished washing the mountain of vegetables. At this rate, we’ll be having lunch.

　　Tired of waiting, Elena opened the back door, and at that exact moment, the noise outside ceased. The man was walking toward her, chicken feathers stuck in his hair and on his shoulders, five eggs held aloft like trophies. Though his face was as expressionless as ever, his stride held the unmistakable swagger of a victor.

　　An involuntary laugh escaped her. She took his spoils and made a large omelet.

　　“Eat.”

　　Unlike the previous night, they ate in complete silence. The meal was over quickly.

　　“Do you know how to do the dishes?”

　　“No.”

　　It was the answer she’d expected.

　　“Well, then it’s a good time to learn,” she said, meeting his gaze and gesturing for him to stand beside her. “Here. Put a little soap on this sponge and scrub the dishes thoroughly. Then rinse them with water. That’s it. You can do it, right?”

　　He silently took the sponge and began scrubbing. While Elena cleaned the rest of the kitchen, he finished the dishes. She had to check his work, of course. Surprisingly, he’d done a perfect job.

　　“Very neat,” she said, giving him a thumbs-up. He just stared back at her. Feeling a little awkward, she grabbed a wide-brimmed hat and headed to the backyard to inspect the damage from yesterday.

　　The patch was a mess. She began pulling out the unsalvageable plants by their roots. As she was sorting through what could be saved, she sensed a presence. He should have been on his way after breakfast, but there he was, hovering nearby like a persistent shadow.

　　“Do you want to help?”

　　He nodded.

　　Elena was not one to turn down free labor.

　　“Look here,” she instructed, holding up a bruised leaf. “This one’s a little squashed, but it’s still edible. Just pick out the ones like this. Leave the ones that are completely crushed or perfectly fine.”

　　After her demonstration, he silently got to work.

　　“You can’t just tear at them like that,” she chided gently. “You have to be delicate if you want them to keep producing.”

　　With her directing and a bit of nagging, they quickly sorted through the mess.

　　“See those branches over there? Bring them here, along with that string.”

　　She worked him without mercy, but he never tried to slack off. He was diligent, even as the hot sun turned his fair skin a bright pink. A good worker was always a satisfying sight.

　　Elena went back inside and returned with the wide-brimmed hat her father used to wear. She plopped it on the man’s head. He was working hard; it was the least she could do.

　　His head shot up. I noticed from the beginning, but his gaze is intense.

　　“The sun is hot, isn’t it?” she said simply.

　　Ignoring the man’s intense gaze, Elena focused on her tasks. She spent the morning thinning overgrown seedlings and watering the garden, and before she knew it, noon had arrived.

　　“Ugh, all done.” Elena straightened, pressing a hand to her lower back. She watched as the man wiped sweat from his brow, looking for all the world like a country farmer.

　　A small chuckle escaped her as she headed back toward the house, the man following silently behind. The morning’s work had left her feeling sticky and grimy, so she went straight to the washroom to clean up.

　　She felt no anxiety about his presence. If he were the type to steal and run, he would have vanished before she woke. And if he did happen to barge in… I’ll just crack him over the head, she thought grimly.

　　Fortunately, nothing of the sort occurred. When she emerged, clean and refreshed, the man was standing quietly by the back door.

　　“Go on, get yourself cleaned up.”

　　She ushered him toward the washroom. Grabbing a set of her father’s old clothes, she placed them outside the door and called out to him.

　　“I’m leaving some clothes for you. Change into these when you’re done.”

　　With that, she began preparing lunch. Though she had eaten a hearty breakfast, the physical labor had stoked her appetite. She chopped a medley of vegetables and threw them into a pot for a simple stew. When the man emerged, she served him a bowl, and they ate their meal in comfortable silence.

　　“You can do the dishes, right?”

　　For the first time, a flicker of confidence crossed his face as he nodded eagerly, clearly proud to be doing a task for the second time.

　　“Good. You can leave when you’re finished.”

　　He simply stared at her, his expression unreadable. Ignoring him, Elena went out to the general store. The morning’s chores had put her behind schedule. She opened the windows to let a breeze into the stuffy room and immediately felt a pair of eyes on her.

　　Turning, she saw Mister Paul, her middle-aged neighbor, who quickly ducked out of sight. Normally, he would have offered a friendly greeting. His behavior could only mean one thing. The news about my little display of strength must be all over the village.

　　It seemed Hans had kept his word. He has such loose lips.

　　This was inevitable, of course, from the moment she had decided to stop hiding her abilities. I suppose I won’t have many customers for a while.

　　While thinking about it calmly, she began to dust. For her parents, the store had been more of a hobby than a business. Their haphazard management had left it cluttered with a mountain of inventory, and the storeroom was in even greater disarray. Maybe I should use this quiet spell to do a deep clean.

　　Just then, the man appeared beside her, having finished the dishes.

　　“You’re still here?”

　　He said nothing, his lips pressed into a firm line.

　　“Are you going to help with this, too?”

　　He nodded eagerly, as if he had been waiting for the question. It was always best to tackle tedious work with an extra pair of hands.

　　“Great! Let’s move everything out to the yard.”

　　The general store occupied the front of the property, its back door opening onto an empty lot. Elena’s living quarters lay just beyond, and behind that, the vegetable garden and chicken coop. For the only general store in the village, it sat on a surprisingly large plot of land, tucked away in a quiet corner. Her parents had built it all themselves. Whenever something in the village needed fixing, the locals sought out her father. A fine house like this was not built by chance.

　　Come to think of it, Father was a true jack-of-all-trades.

　　And as amazing as her father was, her mother had been even more capable. There was simply no way two people like that had died without reason. Her faith in them had cause.

　　“Everything?” he asked.

　　“Yes, everything!”

　　She grabbed a box and carried it outside. The man immediately picked up a nearby stack and followed her lead.

　　“You’re a natural at this,” Elena praised. He glanced at her for a moment before returning to his work, his movements quickening as he found a rhythm. He was such an excellent worker that she was tempted to give him a reward for his efforts.

　　She had just relaxed her watch over him, confident he was working diligently, when a strange noise broke the quiet.

　　Clatter!

　　Elena spun around to see a precariously stacked pile of goods toppling over.

　　Whoa!

　　She had been bent over, picking something off the floor, and her reaction was a fraction too slow. The space was too cramped to move; there was no way to get clear without getting hit. She threw her arms up to brace for the impact.

　　CRASH!

　　The sound of items scattering across the floor was deafening, but she felt no pain. Elena, who had reflexively squeezed her eyes shut, opened them.

　　She found herself staring into a pair of beautiful, luminous blue eyes, mere inches from her own. He had appeared from nowhere, shielding her with his body.