Side Story 25. Cyril’s Past (2)

It was harvest season.

Even in a world where undead ran rampant, the earth still produced grain.

Looking at the fields rippling with golden waves, Cyril firmly held Seraphina’s small hand. It had already been two months since they started holding hands like this.

“Sera, if we help with the wheat harvest, they’ll give us more food.”

“Weally (Really)?”

“Yes.”

Cyril nodded with a solemn face.

He was tired of eating barley porridge every day.

If they harvested all this wheat, could they eat bread too? How long had it been since he’d had proper food? Just imagining it made his mouth water.

“Can you stay by yourself?”

“No. Can’t be awone (Can’t be alone).”

Seraphina looked up at Cyril with determined eyes, absolutely refusing. She squeezed his hand tightly.

Even so, it felt like being pressed with cotton.

“But we could eat bread.”

“Umm……”

The young child’s eyes wavered.

Feeling like he was close to convincing her, Cyril struggled to suppress his rising smile.

“If you just endure for a little while, we can eat more delicious food every day.”

“How much?”

“This much.”

Cyril stretched out both arms wide, drawing a large circle.

Seraphina made a troubled sound as if contemplating the most serious problem of her life with her small head, then eventually nodded.

“Okay.”

“Really?”

“Come back soon.”

“……”

Though it was an age when food should be the most important thing in the world, he felt somewhat disappointed that she let him go so easily.

Had he secretly hoped she would cry and cling to him?

Cyril couldn’t understand his own feelings. What was this complicated emotion?

He felt conflicted, but what could he do?

Though he felt defeated by food, as the slightly older one, he had to be understanding.

“Stay inside the orphanage. It’s dangerous outside the fence.”

“Okay.”

Seraphina became an obedient child and nodded. Her brown eyes with an orange tint held a longing for delicious food.

Cute kid.

Cyril couldn’t help but smile.

Somehow, he felt a surge of strength that made him think he could harvest well.

* * *

What kind of vicious labor was this!

Cyril was exhausted from the incredibly intense work that would drain even a decent adult.

He hadn’t known what wheat harvesting was like, having never done it before. He thought he just had to cut the long, yellow ripened grain, but……

He had to gather what he cut in one place, move it to another place, and then thresh it.

Just hearing this might make one wonder what’s so hard about it, but the field area was enormous. Wheat that was light as a single stalk became incredibly heavy when hundreds were gathered.

That wasn’t all.

The more weight there was, the more threshing needed to be done. No matter how hard he pounded it against the ground, the wheat to be threshed showed no sign of diminishing.

D*mn it all!

How many curses had he swallowed internally?

Each time, Cyril gritted his teeth and endured by thinking about giving Seraphina even one more piece of delicious bread. At just eight years old, he was thinking like a parent with a child.

Anyway, the seemingly endless labor finally ended. It was just today’s work that was finished, and he would have to go out again tomorrow.

“Is this what being a young head of household feels like.”

He had used up all his energy.

With a limp body, Cyril moved his heavy legs and barely made it back to the orphanage. Then, without even thinking of washing, he collapsed face-down on the floor.

“Cyril!”

Seraphina, who had been playing alone in the corner of the room, greeted him with little jumps. But Cyril had no energy left to respond.

A tiny hand poked him repeatedly as he lay motionless.

“Cyril…… Hurt?”

Sensing something wrong, Seraphina asked cautiously. Cyril, still lying face down, just lifted his eyelids to look at her.

“D*mn exhausting. Let me rest a bit.”

“D*mn eksausting?”

“……”

Should he watch his language?

Cyril seriously considered it.

That’s when a commotion broke out outside the door.

Ah, f*ck. I’m dying from exhaustion and now what?

Wondering if a fight had broken out, Cyril frowned and perked up his ears. Distinguishing the voices he could faintly hear, they seemed to be the ten-year-old boys he disliked.

As usual.

Never a quiet day.

If they had nothing to do, they could at least help with the wheat threshing. Yet they’re just consuming food like food pests.

While making all sorts of harsh judgments internally, the voices became clearer.

“Waaaaaah.”

“Hey, stop crying. You’re not going to die.”

“It’s not so bad going out together.”

“Right. We’ll manage somehow. I know how to swing a sword.”

Curious, Cyril raised his body that felt as heavy as a thousand pounds. What on earth were they talking about?

Just then, the troublemakers were entering the room.

Their eyes met.

Cyril shot them an unfriendly glare. As if saying, ‘What are you looking at?’

“Hey.”

The one who had started kicking Cyril on the first day opened his mouth in a confrontational tone.

This time, he wouldn’t just take the beating. He couldn’t show such a pathetic sight with Seraphina present.

Whether he could defeat all twenty of them was uncertain, but if he succeeded, Seraphina might look at him with sparkling eyes and repeatedly say, “Cyril, amazing!”

“Take care.”

“……?”

But the words that followed were completely unexpected.

Cyril’s brow furrowed automatically.

“Did you eat something bad?”

“This guy, even when I’m being nice…!”

“Hey, hey. Let it go. We’re leaving anyway.”

At the restraining voice of another boy beside him, Cyril finally grasped the situation a little.

These guys are leaving the orphanage?

Cyril blinked with a puzzled expression. Seeing them rush in and pack their belongings, it seemed they were really being kicked out.

Wow……

What’s this?

Good riddance.

It felt refreshing to hear that these guys he couldn’t stand would disappear. Thinking about them struggling outside, some of the energy he thought he had completely used up from working all day seemed to return a bit.

Cyril snorted as he watched them leave, trembling or crying.

I sincerely hope you suffer from tomorrow on.

D*mn bastards.

* * *

With twenty boys gone at once, the orphanage became much quieter. Still, with so many children remaining, the buzzing atmosphere never truly disappeared.

The director called it ‘independence.’ Saying that at ten years old, they could certainly fend for themselves.

It was obvious they were being sent out early because there was no capacity to accommodate new children, but Cyril decided not to complain about that part.

Honestly, on the day Seraphina arrived here,

Cyril truly thought she would be the last one. There was no room for more orphans in this place.

But even after that, several more children came in.

Now they were about to start laying straw mats in the hallways for sleeping.

If it were temporary, it might be manageable, but no one knew how long the war with the undead would continue. Orphanages across the continent were bursting at the seams.

‘Anyway, ten-year-olds probably have a higher chance of survival than four or five-year-olds.’

Thinking this, Cyril rested his chin on one hand and looked at Seraphina sitting across the table.

He decided to accept the cold reality.

But……

In two years, when he turned ten and had to leave this place, then… what would happen to Seraphina?

His heart already felt like it was being torn apart.

Cyril exhaled deeply to kill his emotions. Did it look like a sigh? Seraphina blinked her round eyes and looked at him.

“Cyril, why like that?”

“It’s nothing.”

Cyril was now propping his chin with both hands, looking at Seraphina.

Isn’t there some good token or promise?

Something powerful that would connect them even if they separated and met again……

“Sera.”

“Yes?”

“We’re commoners, so we don’t have surnames.”

He just started speaking, but once he said it, it actually seemed like a really good idea.

“Shall we make one?”

Cyril got a little excited. Just moments ago, his chest hurt imagining their separation two years later, but thinking about creating something just for him and Seraphina, he already felt some kind of strong bond forming.

Looking at Seraphina tilting her head like a doll, he strengthened his resolve.

Yes.

Whatever, let’s make one.

Cyril began to think.

“Hmm…… This is difficult.”

All sorts of names floated around in his head. But choosing one from countless names wasn’t easy.

He didn’t want something common, nor something too unusual with a strange sound.

Behind him, he heard the priests bringing in food. A savory smell wafted along with them, but that wasn’t important right now.

A surname just for the two of them.

What would be good……

“Byabi.”

“Huh?”