“Oh my, you’re amazing.”

“What?”

“Seeing you recover this much, it seems like there won’t be any scars left?”

Deborah, smiling brightly, clapped her hands.

“Ah, is that ointment amazing?”

“Weren’t you healing well even without that kind of ointment?”

The boy, who had been irritated by Deborah, averted his eyes and mumbled when Deborah looked at him.

“…You’re weird.”

“Is that so? Still, I have no regrets.”

The wind carried Deborah’s laughter as she slowly moved away.

The boy felt like Deborah, right in front of him, might disappear any moment. Like a mirage, like a dream.

“By any chance, were you waiting for me?”

The boy asked Deborah. His gaze didn’t leave Deborah’s side hair fluttering in the wind.

“Well, of course, I was waiting.”

Deborah’s gentle voice tickled the boy’s ears. In fact, the boy knew that Deborah had been waiting for him.

He had been watching all along. Yet, the boy wanted direct confirmation from Deborah.

“You’re not a fool…”

The boy, with reddened cheeks, grumbled and pursed his lips. Deborah found the boy’s reaction cute and smiled affectionately.

After that, the boy and Deborah met every day.

“You worry too much about my wounds for no reason. That’s why I come to see you.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate your concern.”

“…You’re not a fool.”

Though it was a short five-minute encounter, the boy learned quite a bit about Deborah.

“Is your name Deborah?”

“Yeah, close friends call me Devi. You can call me Devi too.”

“Why would I call you that?”

The boy knew Deborah’s nickname was Devi.

“Do you really not need any bread?”

“I don’t need it.”

“But the bread at our mansion is really delicious.”

“Do you eat a lot and grow big?”

“What? If we’re talking about that, it seems like you should be the one eating more. You’re too thin.”

“What?”

He knew he was being compared to a skinny person.

“I’m eighteen this year.”

“More than I thought. You’re short, and what you do seems completely childish, so I thought you were around fourteen.”

“Whoa! Really?”

“Why do you like it?”

“People always say I look like an old lady! It’s nice to be seen as younger.”

He knew his age, and occasionally, he heard the comment about looking like an old lady.

But Deborah didn’t know much about the boy.

She asked for his name, but he didn’t teach her. When she asked about his age, he just said, “It’s probably older than you think!” and got angry without telling her properly.

‘This child really has a lot of secrets.’

However, Deborah did know something about the boy.

“Hey, do you pity me too?”

“Huh?”

“I mean, do you sympathize with me like you do with those kids you give bread to?”

Staring at Deborah with deeply wounded eyes, the boy asked. Deborah lowered her head.

“No?”

“Then why do you meet with me?”

“To see if your wounds are healing properly…”

Deborah, who was mumbling like that, soon lifted her head.
“No, it’s because meeting you is fun.”

“Am I fun?”

“Yeah.”

Deborah smiled gracefully.

In truth, she wanted to ask, “How about you?” but couldn’t bring herself to do so.

The boy, who had a deeply reddened face, would probably not give a proper answer even now.

Anyway, Deborah learned that the boy disliked being pitied.

Deborah didn’t view sympathy negatively. In fact, sympathy was an essential emotion in the current society.

‘But this child doesn’t like it.’

Deborah constantly paid attention and made efforts, fearing she might make a mistake. Strangely, even the effort was enjoyable. It was weird.

The brilliant spring passed, and the fleeting summer passed as well, ushering in the beginning of autumn.

Leaves in various colors fell from the trees in the mansion. Thanks to that, the back alleys were covered with fallen leaves.

Until then, Deborah met the boy at the same place every day.

The boy knew that Deborah was an orphan, that she was satisfied with her current job, and that she loved cats.

In contrast, Deborah still didn’t know the boy’s name, age, or where he lived.

But she had learned much more than when they first met.

For example, the boy reluctantly accepted treats Deborah offered, saying that it would make her feel better to eat something sweet.

‘I guess he doesn’t really like snacks. Maybe he eats them to spare my feelings, thinking my hands might feel awkward if he doesn’t.’

Also, the boy’s hair was a dark brown.

He still never took off his hat, but sometimes, the hair peeking out from under the hat was almost black.

‘Does the color change slightly when we meet? Maybe it’s because of the mood.’

Moreover, the boy never appeared on rainy days.

In case Deborah might be waiting in the rain, he preemptively scolded her in his distinctive clumsy manner.

“Be good.”

“Don’t treat me like a kid!”

He thanked her with a smile when she praised him, even though his response was awkward.

The boy was also smart. Not just smart, but exceptionally brilliant.

He remembered every little thing he heard or saw and quickly calculated complex equations mentally.

“You seem like a genius.”

“Don’t exaggerate. It’s nothing special.”

“But ordinary people can’t do that.”