Chapter 4: Picking Up a Child in Another World, Part 2

A black flame-like aura rose around the boy's body. Honestly, it was terrifying. But even so, Irumi couldn't back down.

"Sorry, but I can't let you leave unless I know you have a safe place to go. So… ugh… ahh…"

The black flame pressed against him, and Irumi groaned low in pain. Strangely, it wasn't hot, but an intense agony unlike anything he'd ever felt coursed through his body.

(This is bad…)

His consciousness faded, and he collapsed to the ground, groaning. The boy stepped past the fallen Irumi and reached for the door, but Irumi instinctively grabbed his ankle.

"…You're still alive?"

The boy paused, slightly surprised. Seizing the chance, Irumi pleaded desperately.

"Please… I won't do anything. I won't hurt you… Just until morning, at least…"

"Persistent. Filthy human, don't touch me!"

The boy unleashed the black flame on Irumi again.

"Ugh, aaahh…"

The excruciating pain clouded his consciousness, and physiological tears spilled from his eyes. He thought it was over, but suddenly, a golden light enveloped him. The same mysterious, warm light that had come from his hand now surrounded his entire body, shielding him from the black flame.

"You…"

The boy's eyes widened in shock, but then burned with even greater hatred as he intensified the black flame. Yet, not long after, he suddenly collapsed to the ground with a thud.

"Hey!"

As the boy's black flame vanished, so did the strange light covering Irumi's body. He worried he might have harmed the boy, but he seemed merely exhausted, collapsed from fatigue. His weakened body had likely been drained by using magic. The boy muttered deliriously, "Don't touch me, I'll kill you," over and over.

Irumi carried the boy, now sunk deep into sleep, back to the bed of fallen leaves and sat beside him with a troubled expression.

In the heat of the moment, he'd run here and brought the boy with him, but if this child had nowhere to return to, what was he supposed to do now? In this unknown world, where even surviving alone was a struggle, could he protect this non-human child?

(No, that's not it.)

It wasn't about whether he could—it was that he had to. Though he'd acted impulsively, by protecting him, he'd taken on that responsibility.

Exhausted to his core, Irumi gently gripped the sleeping boy's hand.

---

That night, Irumi sat by the door without sleeping, but the boy didn't wake even as the morning sun rose high. He must have been utterly drained.

(His sleeping face is cute, like an angel. It's hard to believe how ferocious he was yesterday.)

He couldn't help but smile as he gazed at him. While adjusting the blanket (a tattered rag he'd picked up), the boy's eyes suddenly opened.

"Good morning. You slept well."

Irumi greeted him, and the boy blinked groggily a few times, still half-asleep. But soon, his eyes sharpened with a glint, and he cloaked himself in black flame.

"Please, spare me that. It hurt like crazy yesterday."

Irumi raised both hands with a wry smile, but the boy still started walking toward the door. Tensing up, Irumi stood to block it, focusing his strength into his hand and summoning that mysterious light.

A black flame, far stronger than yesterday's, assaulted Irumi, but he desperately formed a wall of light to fight back. The boy's strength had likely recovered considerably since yesterday. Meanwhile, Irumi was exhausted—his injuries from the day before hadn't healed, and he'd stayed up all night keeping watch. If this dragged on, he'd eventually be overpowered.

They stood locked in a stalemate at the door, but surprisingly, the boy soon gave up and extinguished the flame. On closer inspection, faint sweat beaded on his forehead. He probably wasn't fully recovered yet.

(…Thank goodness.)

Irumi sighed in relief, but the boy glared up at him.

"What's your goal in keeping me trapped in this rundown shack? If you wanted to kill me, you could've done it while I was asleep."

"I've got no intention of killing or hurting you. I'm just protecting you. Tell me where you've been living and how, and I'll take you there right now—if it's a safe place, that is."

"Then what's that light? Isn't it magic to kill me?"

Irumi shrugged.

"I'd like to know that myself. What is this?"

The boy widened his eyes, momentarily taken aback, then clamped his mouth shut, as if deciding further talk was pointless.

"Anyway, if you want to leave, you've got no choice but to tell me where you've been living and how."

"…"

"Stay silent, and you'll just have to live with me in this rundown shack."

Irumi said with a laugh, and the boy scowled, sneering as if it were absurd.

"Hah? You're kidding. Live with a filthy human, especially a grimy male vagrant like you?"

"Filthy? That's rude…"

True, the room was dirty, and Irumi himself, though he bathed in the river, couldn't scrub off the soot with water alone. Soap-like items existed in this world, but they were expensive and out of his reach. So yes, his face was blackened and filthy. Feeling self-conscious, he rubbed his cheeks hard to clean them even a little.

Suddenly, the boy grabbed Irumi's collar and yanked him down forcefully. Their faces came so close it was almost like a kiss, and Irumi flinched, averting his eyes.

"Tell me honestly—what do you gain by keeping me here? You're hiding something."

Those eyes, filled with suspicion and hatred, pained Irumi's chest. What kind of life had this boy led until now?

"Gain? I can't just abandon a kid on his own. That's all there is to it. In the world I was born in… no, the country I'm from, it's the rule that children live with guardians."

That was normal in Japan. Back there, he'd take a lost child to the police. But in this world without such common sense or laws, actions without clear benefit might seem suspicious or unsettling.

Proving he meant no harm would take a long time, he realized.

"…Once you're stronger, you could probably take down a lowly human like me in an instant. If you hate it here that much, get well soon, beat me, and leave."

Irumi laughed, then clapped his hands as if remembering something.

"Oh, right. Are you hungry? I made this for when you woke up."

He reheated a cracked pot he'd scavenged, then scooped the contents into a wooden bowl—also scavenged—and placed it in front of the boy. It was porridge made from mijal, a grain between rice and wheat, boiled soft with water, mixed with healing wild herbs and mona bird eggs (cheap and widely available), and seasoned with instant soup mix.

The boy's emaciated frame suggested he hadn't eaten properly in days, maybe months, and with his injuries, a heavy meal would be too much for him.

The boy stared at the dish in shock, then grimaced dramatically.

"…I don't want it. What is this vomit? Even livestock eat better than this."

"It's not vomit. It's porridge, a dish from the country I was born in. It's delicious—won't you try it?"

Irumi had tasted it while cooking; the soup mix made it surprisingly good. He was so hungry he felt faint, and the gentle, savory flavor from the broth was almost irresistible after just a taste.

"I'd rather die than eat that."

"Then I'll take it."

Irumi was half-serious. Back in Japan, he'd given his favorite foods to his brothers or skipped meals to feed them when money was tight. Looking back, that was only possible because he had some leeway. He'd never known hunger this intense in his original world.

The smell of the thin porridge shook him to his core. He wanted to eat it all and fill his stomach. But in front of him was a skeletal, starving child.

"I don't want Irumi-nii's food. I don't need it."

"The lunch was gross, so I didn't eat it. I want Mom's lunch."

Recalling his rebellious brothers' words, Irumi's resolve wavered.

(If he says it's vomit and doesn't want it… maybe it's fine if I eat it. I'm so hungry I feel dizzy.)

Cutting off his inner conflict, he pushed the bowl closer to the boy. The appetizing aroma must have reached him.

Despite his disgusted expression, the boy finally gave in to his extreme hunger. Hesitantly, he took a bite, his eyes flickering for a moment, then began wolfing it down ravenously.

"…"

As he ate, large tears welled up in his eyes, and suddenly, they spilled over. He must have been holding back for so long. The warm food probably brought him relief.

His silent crying, without a single sob, pained Irumi's chest, but he gently stroked the boy's head. Strangely, the maddening hunger he'd felt moments ago had subsided.

"…You were hungry after all. Eat up and get better soon."