Goated

Fin POV

I was standing in a large field; goats were surrounding me. I tightened the grip around my blindfold.

I crouched low in the grass, listening to the faint bleating of the goats. My senses stretched outward, the faint shifts in presence.

Observation Haki was an amazing first roll. It wasn't even something I could say I was good at yet. But in these three months, I learned that it wasn't about forcing the ability but about letting it flow.

I felt it before I heard it: the faint, almost imperceptible tug in my awareness, like a thread being plucked. One of the goats shifted to my left, a soft clatter of hooves against stone following a moment later.

Gotcha.

I turned my body in its direction, keeping my movements slow and deliberate. The tricky part wasn't sensing them—that part was starting to feel natural, given all the 'mastery' of the skill was already in me.

The real challenge was reacting fast enough to make it count.

Another presence flickered to my right, closer this time. My muscles tensed as I prepared to intercept.

A sudden burst of movement—a goat darted forward, hooves pounding against the ground.

I lunged blindly, arms outstretched, and grabbed at empty air. My face planted into the dirt with an unceremonious thud.

"Dammit," I muttered, spitting out a mouthful of grass.

The goat bleated mockingly. I pulled off the blindfold, squinting in the sunlight as I glared at the culprit. A scruffy brown goat stood a few feet away, chewing lazily on a patch of weeds like it hadn't just juked me into the ground.

I sighed, dusting myself off.

Observation Haki was a good start, but at the end of the day, it didn't matter if I could sense an attack or if I couldn't even dodge it anyway. I could sense their presence, sure, but anticipating their movements was still hit or miss—literally.

Still, it was progress. Three months ago, I wouldn't have even been able to tell if a goat was sneaking up behind me. Now, I could at least avoid being headbutted.

Most of the time.

I tied the blindfold back on, took a deep breath, and centred myself again. The goats wouldn't wait for me to perfect this, and honestly, neither was the world. I had to push myself if I wanted to be ready for whatever was out there.

"Alright, round two," I muttered, settling back into a crouch.

The goats bleated in response, almost like they were taunting me.

This time, I'd get it right. Or at least I wouldn't eat dirt again. Probably.

...

The blindfold hung around my neck, and I wiped the dirt and sweat off my face with the back of my hand. I walked over to a bucket of water I'd filled earlier, cleaning up my face. The goats wandered off to do whatever it is goats do when they're not mocking me.

"Fin! Dinner's ready!" 

Helga's voice carried across the farm.

"Coming!" I called back, brushing off the dust clinging to my clothes.

I jogged toward the house, the familiar scent of baked bread and roasted vegetables growing stronger with each step. My stomach grew loud enough to compete with the goats when I reached the door.

Inside, Helga was setting the table. Her hair was tied back in a loose braid, and her apron was covered in flour and grease.

She glanced up as I walked in, narrowing her eyes at my state.

"You've been out playing with the animals again, haven't you?"

"What? No, I was just… uh, playing in the field."

I lied, giving her my best innocent smile.

Helga crossed her arms, giving me that deadpanned look. 

"Playing in the wheatfield, huh? Then why do you smell like a goat?"

Crap. How the fuck did she smell that?

I scratched the back of my head, shrugging. "Maybe one of them followed me in?"

Her eyes narrowed further, but then she sighed, shaking her head. "You're impossible, you know that? You're just a little over two years old, Fin. You shouldn't be running around chasing goats—or whatever it is you're doing out there."

I shrugged again, brushing past her toward the table. "I wasn't chasing anything. Honest."

Helga muttered something under her breath but didn't press the issue. She returned to the kitchen, bringing over a steaming pot of stew and setting it down with a clatter. "Fine, whatever. Just sit down and eat before it gets cold."

I climbed into my chair, the wooden seat still a little too big for me, and grabbed a hunk of bread, starting into it.

Helga sat across from me, watching me with a mix of exasperation and amusement. "You're going to be the death of me, you know that?"

Helga spooned some stew into her bowl, the rich aroma filling the room. She looked up at me as I shovelled food into my mouth like I hadn't eaten in days.

"You know," she began, "Agatha told me there's a festival happening in town next month. Lots of music, dancing, and games for kids. Maybe we could go, huh? You'd love it. They even have a little petting zoo."

I nodded absently, not really hearing her. My mind wandered as I stared at the stew in my bowl, stirring it aimlessly.

It wasn't that I disliked Helga. She was kind and hardworking and always made sure I had what I needed. But I couldn't bring myself to see her as my mother, not as she probably wanted.

I didn't even know how to start.

In my last life, I didn't have parents. I'd been stuck with that church for who knows how long. The concept of family had always been… foreign. I mean, I always had my friends and other kids at the church, but it never felt the same as what a real family was like. But now I was here, in this new life, with someone who genuinely cared about me, and I didn't know how to handle it.

Way to go Fin.

"Fin? Are you even listening to me?" Helga's voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

"Huh?" 

I looked up, shoving another spoonful of stew into my mouth to avoid further conversation.

She sighed, leaning her chin on her hand as she watched me. "You're always off in your own little world, right?"

I avoided her gaze, focusing intently on my food. What could I even say? Sorry, Helga, I'm a reincarnated adult who's never had a mom before, so I don't know how to act around you?

Yeah, that'd go over well.

She let the silence hang for a moment before smiling softly. "Well, at least you're eating. You've been running around so much lately. I'm surprised you haven't collapsed from hunger."

I managed a small smile, feeling a pang of guilt. If anything, I admired her. She worked tirelessly to keep the farm running all by herself.

But seeing her as a mother? That was harder than I wanted to admit.

We finished the meal mostly in silence, with Helga occasionally trying to fill the gaps with small talk. I nodded along, answering when I had to, but my mind was elsewhere.

As I helped clear the table, I caught her watching me again, a thoughtful look in her eyes.

"You're a strange one, Fin," she said finally, her tone light but tinged with something I couldn't quite place.

I shrugged, giving her a lopsided smile.

She chuckled, ruffling my hair as I passed by with the dishes. "But you're my 'strange'."

I didn't know how to talk to or connect with her. But maybe, for now, just being here was enough.