"Ingredients, medicine, cooking utensils, and fruits—check," Ren muttered, glancing at the bags in his hands as they walked down the quiet road leading away from the city.
"Don't forget the toy you bought for me, mister!" Jeanne said cheerfully, swinging her small bag beside her.
Ren sighed lightly. "Yeah, yeah. And don't forget the other things I bought for you—they're supposed to help your brain think better," he said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Not that I'm mocking you or anything."
Jeanne puffed her cheeks. "That sounded like mocking!"
Well... I guess I'll have to accept living here for now, Ren thought as he followed Jeanne down the narrow path. I'll need to adapt, little by little.
He stopped in front of a small wooden house at the edge of the road. "Umm… is this the one?" he asked.
"Y-yeah," Jeanne replied, scratching her cheek shyly. "It's a little small, but… it's cozy."
Ren gave the house another look—cracked walls, a loose window frame, and a roof that had clearly seen better days. It feels like it needs a few repairs, he thought, then sighed softly. "Still, it's better than nothing."
"Well then, let's get cooking," Ren said as he rolled up his sleeves. "A good meal will cheer your sister up—and help her recover faster."
They stepped inside the small house. The air was faintly dusty, but Ren didn't seem to mind. He quickly gathered the plates that weren't cracked and set them aside, then washed the spoons and forks one by one before wiping down the worn table.
Afterward, he stepped outside and set up a small campfire beside the house. Using a few thick pieces of wood, he propped up the pot above the flames, poured in water, and waited for it to boil. As steam began to rise, he washed the vegetables thoroughly, his movements calm and practiced.
Ren set the chopping board on the table and picked up a carrot. With practiced ease, he began peeling it, his hands moving quickly yet neatly—every stroke clean, no wasted motion. Once done, he sliced the carrot in half with a soft thunk, then began cutting it into small, even pieces. Each slice was precise and uniform, showing the kind of experience that only comes from years of handling a knife.
Next, Ren placed a few thin mushrooms on the chopping board. As he began slicing them in half, Jeanne tilted her head curiously.
"Mister, why did you buy mushrooms?" she asked.
Without looking up, Ren replied, "Because mushrooms can help you feel better when you're sick. They warm the body and boost your strength." His voice was calm and steady, the sound of the knife tapping rhythmically against the board as he worked.
"And it's even better since it'll be served warm," Ren added as he peeled a potato. His knife moved with calm precision, cutting the slices into neat little circles. "Jeanne, can you hand me the meat on the table?"
"You bought meat too!?" Jeanne's eyes widened with excitement.
"Yeah," Ren replied, glancing at her. "Why?"
Jeanne smiled shyly, her hands clasped together. "It's just… this will be the first time I've ever tasted real meat. Not just me—my sister, too."
Ren paused for a moment, his expression softening. "Why's that?" he asked quietly.
"Because we can't afford it," Jeanne said, handing him the wrapped meat. "Even a single slice costs too much."
Ren gave a faint smile as he accepted it. "Then you'll both get to taste meat for the first time today," he said warmly. "And not just any meat—a proper meal." He gently patted Jeanne's head. "Now, can you open the pot for me? I'll add the ingredients."
As Jeanne lifted the lid, Ren began slicing the meat into thin, precise cuts—each piece uniform, his movements calm and deliberate.
After a few minutes, a rich, mouthwatering aroma filled the small house. Jeanne could smell it even from inside—warm, savory, and comforting. Outside, Ren gave the pot a slow stir, steam rising as he leaned in to taste a small spoonful.
He nodded to himself. "Well, I've got to admit," he muttered with a faint grin, "I'm pretty good at this. The ingredients may be the same as back home—just… bigger. Even the price tags too."
"Sister," Jeanne whispered softly as she gently shook the girl resting on the bed.
Cynelle's eyelids fluttered open, revealing eyes the color of the ocean—deep blue and faintly glassy from illness. Her short, light-violet hair framed her pale face, still beautiful even with how frail she looked.
When she stirred, Jeanne smiled and said quickly, "Don't worry, Sister! Mister Ren is a kind person—he bought medicine, cleaned the house, and even cooked for you!"
Ren approached quietly, carrying a small bowl of steaming soup. "So, you're Cynelle—Jeanne's older sister?" he said softly.
He scooped a spoonful, blew on it gently, and held it out toward her. "Nice to meet you. I'm Ren," he added with a faint smile.
Cynelle accepted the spoon hesitantly, tasting the soup. Her eyes widened a little. "It's… delicious," she whispered. "And warm…"
"I'm glad you like it," Ren replied, setting the bowl gently beside her. "If you don't mind… can I stay here for a while?"
Jeanne looked at her sister eagerly. "It's okay for us, right, Sister?"
Cynelle smiled weakly, then gave a small nod.
After a few minutes of feeding Cynelle, the sky outside had already begun to dim—the sun hanging low at the edge of the horizon, painting the room in soft orange light.
"Wait here," Ren said gently, setting the bowl aside as he stood up. "I'll go prepare your medicine. You'll need to take one dose each day."
He gave a small reassuring smile before heading downstairs, his footsteps quiet against the creaking wooden floor.
"Here, swallow this with some water," Ren said softly as he held out the small tablet and guided Cynelle's hand. He helped her sit up just enough, careful to make sure she didn't choke while drinking.
Once she finished, Ren eased her back against the bed. He placed a cool medicine patch on her forehead and said, "This will help bring your fever down a bit."
Cynelle's eyes fluttered closed, her breathing steady and calm. Ren stood there for a moment, watching quietly before turning away. Then, with slow, quiet steps, he made his way down the creaking stairs.
"Umm… Mister," Jeanne said nervously, peeking from the doorway. "That weird old guy is here again."
Ren raised an eyebrow. "Weird guy?"
Jeanne nodded quickly. "Yeah, the one who always comes by asking for my sister. He said she used to be in his adventuring party a long time ago."
Ren's expression shifted slightly, his tone calm but firm. "I see. Go upstairs and stay with your sister," he said, placing a reassuring hand on her head. "I'll handle things down here."
Jeanne hesitated, then nodded before running upstairs.
"Cynelle Irwen!!" a voice shouted from outside.
Ren opened the door, his brow twitching slightly at the noise. Standing there was a young man clad in full light armor, a sword strapped to his back and a shield in hand. His eyes narrowed the moment he saw Ren.
"Who are you!?" the stranger demanded. "Did you do something to them?"
Ren blinked. "What the hell are you even talking about?"
The armored boy scowled. "Still won't admit your crimes, huh? Then listen well! I, Arden Nesterra, shall punish you for harming the woman I laid my—" he stopped mid-sentence, coughed, then corrected himself, "—my party member and her remaining family!"
With that, he drew his sword dramatically.
Ren sighed, rubbing his temple. "What the fuck is even going on…?" he muttered, eyeing the boy like he'd just met the world's most confused knight.