The Director Is Not up for Adoption!60.00%

What the hell is a pureblood orphan!?

"Hmm."

The pillow feels soft.

The sunlight is warm.

I slowly woke up, basking in the pleasant aroma of the morning sun.

…Wait a second.

Why was I even asleep?

I distinctly remembered bringing the beastkin who had collapsed on the trail back home, laying her on the bed, wiping her sweat, and nursing her back to health…

Huh?

As that thought hit me, I finally noticed the strange sensation of the pillow beneath me.

It didn't feel like a pillow at all—it moved faintly up and down, soft and squishy, almost like… someone's belly?

I slowly lifted my heavy eyelids.

What greeted me were red eyes filled staring intently at me.

They belonged to the black-haired beastkin, whose cat-like ears twitched slightly on top of her head, and whose tail swayed lazily in a way that made me want to grab it.

It was the same beastkin I'd found collapsed yesterday.

After being unconscious for so long, she was finally awake.

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

"…"

Yawn.

I let out a long, lazy yawn and greeted her casually. But for some reason, she just stared at me without saying anything.

She seemed like the shy type, the kind of person who had trouble warming up to others.

Still, I was the one who saved her life.

A simple 'thank you' wouldn't hurt, would it? Honestly, I was feeling a bit hurt.

"Are you hungry? Want something to eat?"

"…"

Even as I smiled and asked if she was hungry, she remained silent.

What's going on here?

Was it that she didn't want to talk, or that she couldn't?

I figured I might as well just bring her some food. She could eat it—or not—if she wanted. I was about to stand up when she finally opened her mouth.

"…Why did you save me?"

Her words caught me off guard.

What kind of question is that?

I tilted my head, trying to make sense of it.

"What do you mean, why did I save you…?"

"Please tell me."

"I just saved you. Do I need a reason to save someone?"

"Don't lie."

"What? I'm not—"

"Do you need my magical knowledge? Or… my body? Or is it something related to the Mage's Tower…?"

"Stop, stop, stop! I don't need anything like that!"

Her words were going in a strange direction, and I quickly shut her down before it got worse.

Seriously, why was she making me out to be some kind of bad guy?

"For the record, I think you're misunderstanding something."

"I found you collapsed in my orphanage's backyard, and I figured you'd die if I left you there. So I brought you in. What's so wrong about that?"

I felt wronged.

All I did was save her life, and yet here I was, being grilled like I'd committed some crime.

"Not to mention, I even tore up my clothes for you!"

"…Oh."

My poor clothes.

I didn't have much to wear as it was, and now I was stuck with torn-up rags that let in every cold breeze.

"R-right… I see."

"Exactly."

Silence.

After venting my frustration, an awkward quiet settled between us.

The air felt so heavy and tense it was almost unbearable.

I hated this kind of atmosphere. It made me feel like I was the bad guy.

"…"

As the awkwardness dragged on, I fidgeted—waving my hands and wiggling my toes—until the beastkin finally spoke.

"So… Who are you?"

"Me? I'm the director of this place."

"…That's not what I meant. Anyway, Director… Sir? Director?"

"Just call me Director. That's fine."

After all, I was the owner of this building.

Well, technically it wasn't really mine, but finders keepers, right? Since it was abandoned, it was basically mine now.

"You're an unusual person, Director."

"What do you mean?"

"Even though you were angry with me, talking to you doesn't feel unpleasant."

"…Huh?"

What the heck was she talking about?

From her tone, her expressions, and the way she carried herself, it was clear she had been through a lot.

She exuded an aura of someone with a complicated past.

But how would I know what that is?!

Stop talking like only you understand the story, okay?

"…Sorry. I've never experienced kindness like this before, so I'm not used to it."

"I see."

"I apologize for being rude to you earlier."

"It's fine. I get it."

That's what I said on the surface.

But inside? I was fuming.

Who opens a conversation with their savior by asking "Why did you save me?"?!

Nope, nope, absolutely unacceptable. I was completely and utterly offended.

I'm sulking. I'm officially sulking. Hmph!

"It's fine. Totally fine. Just… fine…"

"Your face doesn't look like it's fine, Director."

"That's because I'm hungry. Yup."

"Now that you mention it, I'm a little hungry too."

"Oh, should I get you some food?"

"Yes, please. Um… if it's not too much trouble, could I have… a little extra?"

"Well…"

It was a lot of trouble.

There was only enough soup left for one person.

And I was starving. There was no way I could share my portion.

"Of course! It's a bit cold, but it should still taste good."

"Thank you."

…Of course, I couldn't say no out loud.

At the end of the day, I was a coward.

No matter how much I grumbled internally, I just couldn't bring myself to say harsh words to others.

Oh, it's not because of some injury or anything.

I'm just a coward by nature. And hey, being timid isn't a crime, right?

* * * *

"...What is this?"

"ABC soup."

"This is… 'soup'…?"

I had generously given her my entire breakfast, and yet, for some reason, the girl's expression was hard to read.

Sure, it might look more like steamed fruit than soup, but still.

It wasn't that weird, was it?

And it tasted pretty good, too!

Stop looking at it like it's some bizarre creation—it's going to hurt my feelings.

"S-soup…"

Wait a second.

The girl took a bite of the fruity soup and suddenly… started crying.

Not just a tear or two—her tears were pouring down her face, a full-on flood.

Wait, seriously?

Was it really so bad that it made her cry like this?

If she hated it that much, I might actually cry too. This would be the end of my cooking self-esteem—my heart, shattered.

"If it's that bad, you don't have to—"

"It's so delicious…!"

"Oh, that's why!"

Thank goodness.

It was a relief to know she was shedding tears because it was good.

For a moment, I really thought my cooking was so bad it drove someone to tears. If that were the case, I might have joined her in bawling my eyes out.

"Director, this is amazing… Wait, are you crying?"

"…No."

"…"

I wasn't crying!

I'm a proud, card-carrying member of the 'Super Tough Guy Club'.

There's no way I'd cry over something silly like this.

"...Director, it's okay."

"What's okay?"

I wasn't crying, seriously.

What was she even trying to comfort me for?

"There's no need to pity me. My life's just been… a little tough, that's all."

"…Huh?"

"But I'm fine now, so you don't have to look at me with those pitying eyes."

"Oh… well, uh, as long as you're fine, that's good to hear."

Wait.

Did I miss something?

Why did the conversation feel like it was veering off-track?

"I really enjoyed the food. It was delicious."

"Well, I'm glad you liked it."

The soup bowl, now spotless, sat before her. She had eaten every last bit, leaving behind only the faint warmth and aroma of my morning meal.

There goes my breakfast…

"Sigh…"

As I sat there, clutching my rumbling stomach and lamenting my empty belly, the girl cautiously spoke up.

"Excuse me, I have a question."

Her previously hollow cheeks were now slightly puffier—probably thanks to the soup she'd just devoured.

Meanwhile, my stomach felt painfully hollow.

"This is an orphanage, right? And you're the director here?"

"Yep, that's right."

"An orphanage is a place where children with nowhere to go are taken in and cared for, correct?"

"Well, yeah, I guess so."

"Then…"

Uh-oh.

Something about this conversation was starting to feel… ominous.

"Would it be alright if I stayed here for a while? I promise I won't be a burden."

"Yes—"

"Thank you so much! If there's anything I can do to help—"

"Yesn't."

I cut her off before she got any further.

Where did she think she was going with this?

I could barely take care of myself as it was—there was no way I had the capacity to take care of someone else.

* * * *

Currently, I was chopping firewood to sell in the village.

"Why not?!"

"Can you keep your voice down? This is harder than it looks, and I need to focus."

"No, seriously, it makes no sense!"

…With a very persistent cat-like companion at my side.

"Hup… Huff… What doesn't make sense? Your leg is all healed now. You don't have any reason to stay here anymore, do you?"

"What kind of orphanage director refuses to take in orphans?!"

"Doesn't matter. My answer's still no."

"Is it because you think I'm not an orphan? I am! I'm a complete pureblood orphan!"