Door opened by Hanabi from the basement as he took another batch of raw meat rations. Due to the sudden financial security the orphanage gained from selling sugar canes, the basement that used to be so spacious because of the lack of supplies now had only two walking spaces for a person.
But the scarce resources they found and harvested were largely used, especially by the aspiring chefs, who used the meat as the main material for cooking. Hanabi smiled alone while trying to remember what the place looked like before.
Mother Lilith cut the financial income gained from sugar cane into two. Half was currency and half was an equivalent food supply. Hanabi thought at first that the idea was fitting, as it secured them from so much work. But now that they had supplies that would last for three to five years, he wondered if Mother Lilith had changed the condition of exchange.
"Hanabi… hey! Hanabi…"
Hanabi was forced back into reality as he heard a voice he had subconsciously ignored, which surprised him and left him feeling unpleasant.
"Y… yes?!" he stuttered as his voice stumbled from surprise and confusion.
"They said you're taking too long to get the meat." It was Gluy.
Hanabi found her lately to be naturally annoying.
"Apologies, I'm going now," he said as he tried to walk past her.
"Your basket is still empty," she pointed out.
Hanabi looked at his hands, trying to remember what he had done earlier. He remembered being told to get supplies, but as he looked at his hands holding nothing, he realized he never remembered bringing a basket nor holding one in the first place. He looked calm on the surface, but deep down he was confused, panicking, scared, and he began sweating cold as his heartbeat rose abnormally fast.
"Hanabi? Hey! Hanabi?!"
An annoying call snapped his consciousness back again, which only worsened his internal struggle.
Gluy noticed him suddenly sweating and felt the urge to touch his forehead. "Are you sick again?"
But before she could touch him, Hanabi slapped her hand away. He immediately noticed he used more force than necessary as Gluy covered the part where she was hit with her other hand.
"I'm fine!" he said, hiding his concern by acting selfish.
Even while hurt, Gluy remained considerate and shrugged it off as nothing, though the pain lingered. "I will handle this," she calmly suggested. "Mother Lilith was calling you to her office."
Hanabi calmed down a little. Without saying anything, he handed over the basket he had been holding and immediately left.
Marching away from the kitchen, he noticed how much busier it had become. Mother Lilith had given them a cookbook that inspired many of them too strongly. So much so that others began cooking outside, too eager and impatient to wait for their turn. Luckily, Mother Lilith provided equipment enough for everyone in need. The orphans now saw Mother Lilith in a better light because of her actions. But Hanabi simply saw it as caution she had already foreseen beforehand.
Hanabi noticed the place felt busier than it used to. Except for those occupied in the kitchen, the boys were now more often in the forest, as the season was about to change and supplies like wood were in constant need of stacking. The sugar cane work never seemed to end despite Mother Lilith's attempts to reduce the orphanage's dependence on it. Even though Hanabi saw it as a good thing, he could not help but feel sorry when seeing the cost behind it all, as if everything had started from him planting something in motion.
Three knocks at the door announced his arrival as he finally entered. He opened the door and stepped closer to Mother Lilith, who sat in front of her desk. The room remained unchanged as usual, but something felt odd. The desk was unusually empty of paperwork, and Mother Lilith seemed more relaxed than usual, sitting as if she no longer cared about the world.
"You called?" Hanabi asked.
"Yes," she answered while pouring another cup of hot water.
Hanabi smelled an aroma rising from it, something strange and foreign yet also familiar, something that suddenly stirred hunger within him.
After filling the cup, she immediately handed it to Hanabi. He was flabbergasted and confused.
"Drink it," she ordered.
When Hanabi observed the cup, he saw a strange liquid floating on top of the soup-like drink. The smell resembled meat, a mixture of toasted and boiled meat combined in a wild yet strangely efficient way. But to his surprise, after tasting it, the soup was the most delicious thing he had ever experienced.
Because of it, he suddenly remembered something. There was once a time Mother Lilith and Hanabi had the kitchen to themselves. Mother Lilith brought the expired holy oil Hanabi had requested. As they began cooking under his instructions, they filled the pot with the oil and set it over fire until it turned hot, then placed slices of meat inside. The process was chaotic, with oil splashing everywhere and causing both of them to panic.
But the result was satisfying. After a few minutes, the meat was already cooked. After removing it from the fire and letting it cool for a few minutes, they tasted it and immediately liked it.
Even so, despite its positive outcome, Mother Lilith did not disclose their discovery to anyone, not to the orphans nor to her fellow nuns. After that, the children began noticing her in the kitchen late at night, acting like a fellow chef aspirant. Hanabi even wondered what she had been doing.
"How's the taste?" she asked.
"Not dry this time?" he answered.
Mother Lilith giggled at his seemingly sarcastic response.
"That was a great innovation. To think holy oil can be used this way was surprising."
Hanabi was confused. "But why did you hide it from them?" he asked. "This could be a great idea for the children to start business ideas."
Mother Lilith only ignored his question. "It seems I don't need to fill the pan with oil to cook the meat," she said happily. "A little is enough."
Hanabi did not push further and remained silent.
"After cooking the meat with oil, I immediately poured in a few cups of water until it boiled," she added. "I did more experiments with this method of cooking and found more results."
"What is this all about?" Hanabi finally asked, his confusion growing.
"Oil extracted from oleum-bearing plants. As you already know, plants tend to evolve quickly to prevent threats. However, some oleum-bearing plants were successfully modified to stop evolving. Which means oil will not be a problem for the time being."
A moment of silence filled the room. Mother Lilith seemed to recall something as she opened her drawer and searched. Hanabi remained puzzled.
"My friend who sells sugar cane as wine sold it at such a high price only rich people and nobles can afford it," she said while searching. "I knew wine would be successful, but I did not expect it to become this popular… ah, I found it."
She pulled out a bottle that resembled a potion, rectangular in shape with a light golden-yellow liquid inside.
She placed it near Hanabi.
"It is not a potion. It is juice made from sugar cane."
"You mean wine?" Hanabi asked, doubt lingering.
"It is an excess product after processing sugar cane. Normally it is discarded, but it still contains sweetness, so it was recycled into a different liquid."
Hanabi picked up the bottle, observing it more closely as his curiosity grew.
"You can drink it," she said, more like an order than a suggestion.
Trust became a complicated thing. A word that meant dependence, yet also danger. But refusing it made Hanabi feel uneasy.
So he opened the bottle. A strong sweet aroma immediately rushed into his senses, similar to honey.
While enjoying the scent, the fact that Mother Lilith was watching him made him feel uncomfortable, cutting short his comfort.
Hanabi had only tasted honey once before, but he still remembered its flavor clearly. This smell was similar, yet softer. Without hesitation, he drank.
Its taste matched the aroma. Unlike honey's rough thickness, it was smooth and gently sweet.
"What does it taste like?" Mother Lilith asked.
"You can buy one bottle like this as a birthday gift for everyone," he answered.
Mother Lilith's expression suggested she had expected that answer.
"You are no longer going to the market," she said suddenly.
The shift in tone instantly tightened the room.
"The new season is about to arrive," he answered, still surprised.
"You will not be able to go to the market often once the rainy season begins," she replied. "But people tend to spend more time on things they know they will not see for a long time."
"I will always be there again once the rainy season ends," Hanabi replied, though he suddenly felt a burst of heat inside his body.
"I see," she said. "There was once an orphan who cried deeply because her toy took five days to dry during the rainy season. It was made of leather."