"System, check Thoma's favorability."
［Thoma Favorability: 23］
"Allocate stats: 5 to Attack, 5 to HP, 5 to Defense."
［Allocated］
——
I held Kettle and followed Thoma, who had apparently just happened to be passing by. He seemed to be recovering from the tension of the earlier fight with the Treasure Hoarders, looking as nervous as an overly defensive groundhog.
A tall, blond, red-accented groundhog.
"Miya, are you alright?"
I shook my head. "I'm fine, I was just sleeping in a tree—"
I immediately clamped my mouth shut like a duck whose neck had been squeezed. Oops, slipped up.
Kettle, who I'd set down, was now running in circles nearby, sniffing around and even pawing at the dirt.
His green eyes were full of question marks. "Why were you in a tree? Didn't you tell me—"
Thoma also cut himself off. He looked at me for a long moment, his face slowly hardening into a more serious expression. "You told me you had a place to stay. You meant sleeping in a tree."
I'm poor! What else could I do! I'm working on it, wuwu!
The young man was much taller than me, so I still had to look up to talk to him, though right now I was hanging my head due to some inexplicable guilt, not really wanting to meet the housekeeper's gaze.
The atmosphere grew somewhat stiff.
"Miya—" Thoma said.
"I can help with lodging," the young man said. I heard him take a breath. "Miya, even though we're not very familiar with each other yet, I am your family. You can ask me for help."
Thoma's tone was reliable.
A memory flashed in my mind.
Nine years ago, a little girl, covered in wounds, was thrown out of the Ryuguu household after begging her relatives for help. Whether she cried or stayed silent, it earned her no assistance. Those people were also blood-related family.
They did not help the young Miyabi.
So that small child alone manned a shaky boat, attempting to cross the thunderstorm to reach Mondstadt in search of family. It was impossible to succeed. So she died there.
That despair made my heart race, my hands and feet turning cold.
I could see the immensely powerful lightning storm striking toward me, charring skin and flesh, causing excruciating pain. The girl cried her heart out, screaming her parents' names, then rowed the oars fiercely, unwilling to give up any chance.
"..."
This body was crying again.
Tears welled up and I immediately blocked them with my sleeve.
I heard Thoma take a step back in dismay.
Kettle sniffed at the hem of my clothes.
"Sorry, I—" My voice trembled the moment I opened my mouth, thick with tears. "Sorry, but... they never said they would help me."
"I wanted to go to Mondstadt, where Mom lived. She said Mondstadt had her family, that they were good people, not awful like Dad's family—I went to beg them for help. I wanted Mom and Dad to have a proper burial..."
It almost felt like it wasn't me speaking. The child's lingering pain controlled my organs. Every word was that child's painful last words, and I watched this body cry like a standard bystander, feeling out-of-body.
"They threw me out."
"It hurt so much. The storm was so scary. I wanted to row harder, but my hands went numb—"
"If only I could have met you sooner—" This was directed at Thoma. "If only I could have met you sooner..."
Miyabi was struck to death by the lightning storm.
She sought help so desperately, her longing for acceptance so fervent.
Poor girl, I thought.
I felt my soul snap back into place. It seemed I could control my tear ducts again, stopping the uncontrollable flow. With each breath came violent, involuntary sobs. This emotion slowly subsided as the memory finished its course, coming and going quickly.
"Sorry, I—" I gasped for air.
The person beside me had remained silent, standing quietly until I finished crying.
A large section of my sleeve was soaked with tears.
Crying in front of someone for the second time—honestly, I felt a little less awkward about it.
Thoma still didn't speak.
I secretly peeked at him through puffy eyes, through the gap in my sleeve, and was startled by the gloom on his face—
It wasn't the dangerous expression I'd expect from Thoma, the Yashiro Commission's housekeeper. His bright green eyes were dark and angry, his lips pressed together. He stared at the ground, lost in thought.
His gaze then shifted to me as if jolted awake, the negative emotions receding like a tide.
He took a step toward me.
His expression turned very compassionate, and then he hugged me.
From the first time I accidentally bumped into him, I knew Thoma was always as warm as fire. His presence was warm. He didn't need to use any force to hug me—it was a gentle, dependency-inspiring warmth. The moment he embraced me, I felt something within me, along with that memory that wasn't mine, being soothed.
"I should be the one apologizing, Miya."
He spoke.
"Because of me, you've cried pretty badly both times we've met."
I felt I had to deny that.
I stayed silent for a moment, then broke free from the good man's warm embrace. "Remembering those things is a good thing, even if it's painful. I have to remember."
"If I didn't remember, how would I know that Thoma is such a good person?"
"Right?" I said.
"—Big Brother?"
My heart was briefly shattered, feeling soft and muddy, like run over by a concrete mixer truck.
The System's cold notification.
［Thoma Favorability: 25］
——
In a place only the System could see, there were strange electric crackles and hissing muffled sounds, then a baffling favorability value burst out. The number fluctuated wildly, from 10 to 15, then suddenly jumped to 25, before abruptly dropping to 0.
Finally, it slowly settled on "1".
［#$%&!@ Favorability: 1］
——
Even though I was still dragged off for a good meal.
In the end, Thoma didn't let me off the hook about the tree-sleeping. He took me to see many houses for sale, finally settling on a small place near the beach. As expected of someone with local connections, he talked the price of the small house down from around a million Mora to several hundred thousand with just a few words, his smile not faltering once during the process, leaving me stunned.
"So that's 600,000 Mora, Mr. Yamada."
"Ah, yes, of course! We must take extra care of Mr. Thoma's sister—" The seller, Uncle Yamada, rubbed his hands together, bowing obsequiously, sweat beading on his oily face.
Holding Kettle with one hand, I poked Thoma.
"But I haven't finished my next commission yet, and the reward is only 500,000." I calculated the days. "It'll take another two or three days. Maybe we should forget it—"
"Forget it? How can we forget it! How can we forget such a good house!" Uncle Yamada suddenly interrupted loudly, reminding me of a line from a comedy skit I'd seen on TV before.
He seemed about to rush over and grab my hand in excitement.
"A house like this sitting empty is just a waste! Why doesn't Miss Ryuguu move in first? You can pay later! Solve the urgent need first!"
Seeing me repeatedly avoid the man's overly enthusiastic words, Thoma chuckled and stepped between Uncle Yamada and me.
"Then it's settled. Thank you very much for your help."
I also expressed my thanks.
Uncle Yamada stammered, looking back every few steps as he scurried away.
"Why is he so afraid of Thoma?"
I set Kettle down to let her run around.
Thoma maintained a pleasant smile. "It's nothing. Previously, there was a minor... friction in Mr. Yamada's work that affected a small part of the Yashiro Commission's operations. I happened to be the one to resolve it—probably left a less than favorable impression."
［It was regarding the matter of Kamisato Ayato becoming the clan head］ the System said. ［In the real estate business, Yamada was unwilling to follow the advice of the Yashiro Commission's new head and spoke ill of him outside］
Involving Kamisato Ayato, huh?
It's impressive Yamada is still alive.
"Shall we go in and see what furniture we need to add?"
600,000 Mora for a small, semi-finished house, plus buying furniture separately, was quite reasonable, at least in my opinion. Mora wasn't earned as quickly as in the game, but I still needed to get the money fast.
"Bed, wardrobe, table, chairs..." The young man muttered to himself as he surveyed the space, seemingly already planning where to put everything.
Ah, as expected of a professional housekeeper.
Kettle ran inside.
I suddenly remembered something and picked up Kettle. "Thoma, have you seen Kettle somewhere before?"
"Hm?" He looked at Kettle, instinctively reaching out to ruffle the dog's head. "Isn't this your—huh?"
Thoma bent down and took the dog from me. Not a small black dog—it had some weight even when I held her, but she seemed much lighter in his hands. Kettle wasn't afraid of him, her curly tail wagging like a flower.
"Ninja dogs usually have tightly curled tails like this."
Kettle panted happily, tongue out.
"But—I'll ask around. She just resembles a ninja hound."
I took Kettle back.
Back when I played the game, I'd always wanted a ninja hound as a companion.
I didn't want to let Kettle go. She was the dog who followed me all this way. Since I decided to keep her, I had to find a way to make sure she didn't leave me. Call me willful or childish, but this is my dog.
I felt another version of me deep inside throwing a tantrum.
Screaming like that author's daughter in some novel's preface—This is my dog! Let them find their own stuff! He is mine!
My displeasure was probably written all over my face. Thoma actually ruffled my head like he did with Kettle, making me freeze.
It seemed that since the favorability increased, the subtle, occasionally probing pressure Thoma gave off during our first meeting hadn't appeared again. I also wasn't paying as much attention to monitoring my every action and word in front of him.
［That means your relationship has improved］
Shut up.
"Want to go look around?"
The young man gave a wry smile. "You don't want to sleep on the floor in an empty house tonight, do you?"