A Girl's Story

It was early dawn when the girl slowly regained consciousness.

"Ugh, ah…"

Though her mind cleared for a moment, her vision soon blurred again.

Before her eyes was a faint, glowing light.

She didn't know who might live in that 'orphanage', but it had to be a place where an injured, homeless child could rest, at least temporarily.

Or perhaps not.

Maybe, just like in the city, the people inside would glare at her with eyes filled with hatred. Even beggars on the streets had shown her nothing but contempt.

And yet, she had to go.

Clinging to this fragile thread of hope was the only option left to her.

"…"

But her body refused to move.

She was so close. Just a little farther, and she'd be there.

Yet her legs wouldn't take another step.

"…Am I going to die here?"

She had fought so desperately to survive.

But was she now fated to perish in some forgotten rural forest, freezing and writhing in pain, slowly fading away?

Thud.

She collapsed after only a few more steps.

She had no strength left to rise. Whatever little energy she had was long gone.

Actually, she'd never even had that 'infantile strength' people spoke of—there was no one to nourish her when she was young.

"Ah…"

The girl had been alone since birth.

Or more precisely, since the moment she'd become aware of herself, she'd been alone.

Whether she'd been abandoned or some unavoidable tragedy had left her this way, no one knew—not even herself.

"Now that I think about it… it's always been this way."

The girl had once lived in the heart of the empire's capital, a place known for its riches.

But she was a beastkin.

She lived in the back alleys.

Those two facts shackled her life.

"You filthy traitor! How dare you try to come in here!"

"…What's that smell? Do all those alley rats reek like that?"

"Disgusting."

"…"

She endured endless discrimination and hatred, without ever understanding why people called her a 'traitor'.

"Didn't I tell you not to touch the food here?"

"Ugh, ngh…"

Even scavenging scraps from the garbage wasn't allowed.

She was beaten multiple times a day, even when trying to eat things that were rotting and barely edible.

But she didn't give up.

She hid her despised ears and tail beneath a black robe.

She spent hours scrubbing herself clean in the river, over and over, to erase the filth that marked her as 'different'.

She did it all to survive.

"Here, this should help."

"Wow! Thank you, big sister!"

"It's no big deal."

"You're so kind! Here, take this!"

"This is…?"

"It's a bracelet I made myself!"

The first time she performed a kind deed—helping a small child who had fallen on the street—and received thanks in return, she felt joy unlike anything she'd ever known.

But.

"Ugh, the wind's…!"

"Huh?"

"…Ah."

In that fleeting moment, the wind had ripped her black robe away, exposing her ears.

"Are you okay?"

"…"

Though she quickly pulled the robe back over herself, it was too late. The child had seen the beastkin ears she worked so hard to hide.

"Mommyyy!"

"There's a beastkin here!"

The same child who had thanked her moments ago, who had gifted her a bracelet, now screamed at her.

"What the hell?"

"How dare you come here? Get out now!"

"I was just…"

"Ugh, no wonder it reeks around here. It's because of you."

The girl realized something that day.

No matter how hard she tried, she could never escape her birth.

She decided to seek refuge in the Mage's Tower, believing its proclaimed acceptance of 'talented individuals' meant she would be treated fairly.

"Where does a beastkin think she's going? The Mage's Tower is sacred."

"We'll need stricter screening from now on."

"She must've cheated to get those high marks."

But it was futile.

To the Mage's Tower, 'talented individuals' apparently didn't include beastkin.

Even though she had taken the exam fairly and earned the highest score in history, she was met with cold disdain.

"…I was so naive."

Despite all the betrayals, she had believed in people again.

How foolish of her.

There was no one as stupid as a beastkin who dared to hope.

"…"

The girl closed her eyes.

She had been falsely accused, her leg slashed, and abandoned in this rural forest.

Tears streamed down her face.

For the first time since birth, she cried.

She was bitter.

So bitter.

What had she done to deserve this treatment?

"Ha… it's warm."

Warmth.

For the first time in her life, she felt warmth.

It was likely the heat from the blood flowing from her wounded leg.

The life she had lived was filled with cold hatred, but now, ironically, her own blood brought her comfort in her final moments.

It was the warmth of blood, nearing death.

Blood was far kinder than any human she had ever met.

"Damn… gods…"

As her consciousness faded, her last thoughts were of cursing the gods who had abandoned her.

* * * *

She thought her life's flame would flicker out, just like that.

But strangely, it seemed the gods didn't want her to die.

"Hey, are you okay…?"

How much time had passed?

Through her fading awareness, she heard a small voice.

"Ah."

The voice was soft and delicate.

A young girl stood by her side.

If she asked for help, would she survive?

Help… me…

She tried to speak, but no sound came out.

Still, she forced her lips to move, desperately trying to ask for aid.

"...A beastkin?"

The moment she heard those words—'a beastkin'—her body gave out entirely.

She instinctively knew.

This person was just like the others.

Like that child, like the people in the city, like the mages at the tower—this person wouldn't help her.

I might as well just die…

She thought of the warm pool of blood beneath her.

Living only meant more pain. It would be easier to let it all end here.

"Hang in there, I'll save you no matter what!"

But at the moment that voice reached her ears—

At the moment she heard words she thought she would never hear—

'…What?'

The girl couldn't help but hope.

Foolishly, naively, against her better judgment, she hoped.

"I promise!"

Clinging to an impossible hope is foolish.

It's naive, pathetic, and nonsensical.

But that's why…

Beastkin are foolish.

So foolish that even after being beaten down by betrayal and scorn, they can still be swayed by words warmer than the blood pooling beneath them.

'Promise…'

No matter how much she'd been betrayed, no matter how much contempt she'd endured, she couldn't stop herself from reaching out for the hope placed before her.

* * * *

"…"

"...It's done!"

How much time had passed?

The treatment seemed to be complete.

The persistent, unbearable pain in her leg had finally subsided.

"Ugh, why is she so heavy…!"

"…"

The small person who had saved her was now grunting and groaning as they struggled to carry her.

Her body was light—she hadn't eaten in days—but they still called her heavy. It was almost absurd.

How weak must they be to struggle this much?

The thought saddened her.

Amidst the swirling storm of emotions—relief, gratitude, disbelief—the girl felt a final sensation:

Curiosity.

'…Why?'

Why was this person helping her?

She couldn't make sense of it.

"Whew… Done! I feel a little bad about using my brand new blanket, but… No, no, what am I saying?"

Why had this person placed a beastkin on their own bed, their new bed, no less?

She couldn't understand.

"She's sweating a lot… Where did I put that towel? …Ugh, no towels here either?"

Why?

"Well, whatever!"

Why was this person…

'…Was that the sound of fabric ripping?'

Why were they being so kind?

It didn't make sense.

And why—

Even though her wound was no longer bleeding—

Why did everything suddenly feel so… warm?

* * * *

The girl had lost track of how many times she'd drifted in and out of consciousness, swept away by waves of exhaustion and pain.

At some point, though, she came to her senses.

"Mmnya…"

"Noisy..."

Though she had been forcibly woken, she was now fully conscious.

The joy of opening her eyes—a feat she thought she'd never accomplish again—was fleeting.

Her gaze quickly settled on the tiny figure sprawled across her stomach.

"…Clothes."

The child, draped in tattered white clothes that were shredded, had equally white hair.

Beside the child were a damp cloth, likely from nursing her wounds through the night, and a bowl of food.

Was this child the one who saved me?

"…Small."

The child was tiny.

Even smaller than she was, despite her own stunted growth from malnutrition.

And beautiful.

The child had an otherworldly, almost doll-like charm. It was the kind of ethereal beauty that one might glimpse in the capital's grand displays of wealth and luxury.

As she stared blankly at the sleeping child, the little one's golden eyes began to flutter open.

Bright, radiant golden eyes—like the sun itself—fixed their gaze on her.

"Mm… Oh, uh… Good morning. You're awake?"

Still drowsy, the child yawned repeatedly as they spoke.

The girl, however, couldn't contain the question that had been burning in her heart.

"Are you hungry? Want something to eat?"

"...Why did you save me?"

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