The Love Nest
She let me in.
She actually let me in.
My stomach had growled—loud, embarrassing, desperate—right as I was stammering something about needing directions. And Goddess Hestia, instead of shooing me away like any sensible person would, just... opened the door wider.
"Come inside," she'd said simply.
Inside. The love nest.
Bell Cranel's home. The place I'd only ever read about, imagined, envied from another world entirely. And now I'm standing here, in this cramped church basement converted into living quarters, my heart hammering.
The air smells like soap and something cooking—or maybe the memory of cooking. The space is tiny. One room serving as bedroom, living room, kitchen, everything. Makeshift furniture. Patches on the walls. But it's clean. Loved. Cared for.
And then I hear it.
Humming.
Bell. Bell Cranel is humming from behind a thin partition. Just... casually bathing. Taking a bath like it's the most normal thing in the world, this off-key little tune that's somehow both weird and endearing.
I can't help it. My eyes drift toward the gap in the partition.
Muscle memory—what are you doing? That's rude. Don't do that!
…My body ignored me anyway.
Skinny...
…That's it?
Right. Shoot. I forgot. This is the beginning.
"Haaaaaaaa???? Goddess, who is that?!!!"
The humming stops. Bell's voice cracks through the apartment—panicked, high-pitched, mortified.
Dude. Already saw all goods. Even your future.
I've got seven theories, and none of them end well.
And I'm not Aiz, don't overreact.
A gust of cold air rushes through as Bell presumably scrambles for something to cover himself with. I can hear splashing, frantic movement, a muffled curse.
Hestia doesn't even flinch. She just sighs—fond, exasperated, the sigh of someone used to her child's dramatics.
"Sorry, kid," she says, turning to me with an apologetic smile. "I only have four potato croquettes left. But... you can have them."
She gestures to a small plate on the makeshift table. Three golden-brown croquettes, still warm.
This is their dinner.
I know it immediately. Everything about this place screams poverty. The patched walls. The secondhand furniture held together with prayer and determination. The empty cupboards I can see through the gap in the cabinet door.
They're poor. Just like I am now.
And she's offering me their last meal.
My hand moves before my brain catches up. I dig into my pocket—the jeans I was wearing when I got transported here—and my fingers close around something small and metallic.
A 100-yen coin.
My last one.
I may never see it again.
But somehow... that doesn't matter.
"Here," I say, pressing it into Hestia's small, warm palm. "It's a rare coin. From the old age—a different place. I... don't know how much it's worth here, but please. Take it. As a token of thanks."
She looks down at the coin. Foreign. Strange. The Japanese characters probably meaningless to her. She turns it over in her fingers, examining it with that divine curiosity gods have for mortal things.
Then she looks up at me.
And she smiles.
A real, genuine, warm smile that crinkles the corners of her eyes.
My goddess actually smiled at me.
"I'll just... I'll take one," I manage, reaching for a single croquette. "This is enough for me. I'll go to the dungeon tomorrow, earn some money. I can repay this kindness someday—"
"No need," Hestia interrupts gently. She sets the coin carefully on the table. "Give what you've got to someone who actually needs it. We manage well enough here."
We manage well enough here.
I smile back—can't help it—and bite into the croquette.
It's delicious.
But I'm not blind.
I watch them. Hestia and Bell—who's finally emerged from the bathroom in a simple shirt and pants, hair still damp, face still red. They split the remaining three croquettes between them with practiced ease.
"Let's cook dinner!" Hestia had announced earlier, all fake cheer and determination.
They acted like they had food. Like this was normal.
But I know.
I saw the empty cupboards. Saw the way Bell's eyes lingered on that last croquette before he carefully cut his portion in half to share with his goddess. Saw the way Hestia ate slowly, savoring every bite.
They're struggling.
And they still shared with me.
I sat at their table. Ate their food.
I stood there for a moment after they turned to clean up.
What could I take... without taking from them?
My eyes drifted to the corner. A candle. Burned almost to the end. Wax pooled at the base, wick blackened and short.
Nearly finished. Already used.
This wouldn't hurt them.
I picked it up carefully.
Light. Ordinary. No value.
But it had been here. Had burned while they lived. While they shared.
Just like the magic stone—proof that mattered more than worth.
I slipped it into my pocket gently.
It's enough.
I'll repay this.
To them, or to anyone I can help when I'm able.
But first?
First, I need valis.
Lots and lots of valis.
Tomorrow, I'm going into the dungeon.
[End of Chapter]
Author's Notes:
Our protagonist has officially entered the sacred space—the love nest itself. One croquette, one 100-yen coin, and one stolen candle later, they're now committed to dungeon diving. What could possibly go wrong for someone with zero combat experience in the most dangerous place in Orario?
But first: weapons. Because walking into the dungeon empty-handed is just suicide with extra steps.
Next time: Scavenging in the ruins of those who came before. When you have no money and questionable morals, desperate times call for desperate measures.