ACDWL 005: Growing Guilt

The man who had taken me in seemed, as I thought, to hold a high position.

I still didn’t understand much of the language, so the details were lost on me, but everyone saluted him.

The rabbit-eared one also addressed the cat-eared one in the same manner as everyone else.

In other words, the rabbit ears must be the cat ears’ subordinate.

He didn’t seem as formal as the others, though, so perhaps their positions were more closely aligned.

No one called the cat ears by name, which suggested that what everyone said was probably a title.

And yet, only the cat ears addressed the rabbit ears differently.

Because this group was so organized, they might have been soldiers.

Judging by their standing, the cat ears seemed to be the captain, and the rabbit ears the vice-captain.

And it seemed I was to live with the cat ears.

He brought me to a huge, empty house where he lived alone.

He started teaching me the language, so I asked about various things.

He taught me the names of things, numbers, and how to write simple words.

The cat ears never once looked annoyed.

Caring for a troublesome, foreign child who couldn’t even communicate—most would find that intolerable.

Maybe he liked children?

Yet, there hadn’t been a single child in sight throughout town.

There were creatures here and there, but no beastman children.

What could that mean?

And I didn’t understand why everyone stared at me in surprise wherever I went.

Was it because I had no animal ears?

Because I didn’t have a tail?

Because I had no scales?

Or perhaps it was because the cat ears was seen together with a child like me?

That probably covered the main possibilities.

Even if there were another reason, I couldn’t fathom it.

The language here was hard to pronounce, and I knew I must have sounded childish to their ears.

My body was young as well, so people regarded me with gentle expressions.

Yet even the cat ears couldn’t pronounce my name correctly.

Aoyama Kō.

“‘A rainbow over a blue mountain’—what a poet you must be!” People often made that remark.

According to my mother, who named me, it meant, “Be someone who, like a rainbow, bridges even the sky.”

…But I had never lived up to that ideal.

I’d never stepped in to break up fights, nor sought out troublesome situations to meddle in.

That just wasn’t who I was.

I didn’t want to get involved with others too deeply.

Nor did I want others intruding on me.

Superficial relationships were enough.

…That’s how I’d always felt.

The cat ears was so kind to me surely because I was a child who couldn’t speak the language.

Had I remained in my original form, I doubt such kindness would have been shown to me.

It made me feel I was deceiving him.

I tried more than once to say I was eighteen, but the message never got across.

And even so, there was a part of me that wished things could remain as they were.

If I were cast out now, I wouldn’t survive.

To stay alive, I needed to take advantage of the cat ears’ kindness.

He could only be so gentle because he believed I was a child who knew nothing.

Therefore, I had to learn the language as quickly as possible, so that I wouldn’t remain dependent on him.

If I kept pretending to be a child, I’d probably be allowed to stay in this safe place.

They would buy me whatever I needed. I could live comfortably without a care.

If I chose to keep deceiving him, I easily could.

But what kind of person would that make me?

I needed to learn how to live on my own.

If there were some orphanage-like facility, I’d have to leave the cat ears for there.

As I was now, I wouldn’t be able to find work.

Even if I were in my original body, in this world full of muscle-bound people, there probably wouldn’t be a job I could manage.

The cat ears was saying something about my chair.

“**, no need for that.”

It was true—even when I sat in his lap, I could barely reach the food on the table.

So, he must have proposed to get a child’s chair, and the rabbit ears was likely exasperated by the idea.

“**, ***.”

Standing between his knees, I hugged the cat ears, who stroked my head.

One of the few words I’d heard directed at me.

Judging by the tone, it probably meant “good,” “great,” or “good child.”

What he’d just said likely meant “good child.”

Getting that said to me in a child’s body—someone could easily see it as condescending.

But I hadn’t yet been taught the words for “thank you” or “sorry.”

So, that was all I could think to say.

“Kō, ****.”

He repeated the same word again.

“What are you saying? I’m deceiving you. If you knew the real me, you wouldn’t want to take care of me.”

But those words were lost on him.

“*? ****?”

Probably asking, “What’s wrong?”

Whenever I looked gloomy or seemed to be troubled by something, that was what he always said.

The cat ears really was a good man.

“Someday I’ll explain everything. Until then, let me rely on your kindness. I’m sorry.”

I almost cried.

How sly I was.

It was as if I were trampling on his good will.

The cat ears’ voice wavered with concern.

I closed my eyes, fighting the urge to cry and cling to him.

“****.”

I mouthed a word that meant something like “I’m fine” or “It’s okay.”

“**. ….”

There was no need for concern.

I smiled at him, but his face twisted with worry.

(He’s too good-natured.)

Maybe it was because of his position, a sense of duty to protect the weak.

The rabbit ears also looked uneasy, glancing between the two of us.

Ignoring their stares, I kept asking about the names of things as I continued to eat.

The food was rather rough in flavor, but perfectly edible.

Most of it seemed like it could be made with substitute ingredients even in Japan.

Luckily, there wasn’t anything I couldn’t accept.

Once we’d finished, the cat ears picked me up again.

It was simple enough—I was barefoot.

Apparently, they didn’t have any children’s clothes or shoes, so the cat ears kept saying “tomorrow.”

We must be going shopping then.

Today they’d bought fabric, and what I wore now was made from that.

Worn almost like a bathrobe.

Did that mean there were no children’s clothes available nearby?

Was there some reason there were no children in town?

────

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We returned to the cat ears’ house.

Now that I thought about it, since he said “tomorrow,” did the cat ears not have to work?

Given his status, he seemed like a busy man.

If he did have to go to work, what would I do?

If I went along, I’d just be in the way. Should I stay home alone?

Would someone else take over as teacher?

Someone as patient as the cat ears would be ideal.

“Kō?”

He called my name, and as I looked up, he patted my head again.

Did he really like children?

He was handsome and held a high position; it didn’t seem like he’d ever have trouble finding a partner.

He could have his own children if he wanted.

…Were his standards just too high?

“****”

He said something else.

Whenever the cat ears spoke, he often acted quickly, so it was rather easy to guess his meaning.

During that, I repeatedly tried to mimic his pronunciation.

If I got it wrong, he patiently corrected me over and over until I got it right, which made it even easier to remember.

If he weren’t so attentive, I’d never have learned so quickly.

(A bath!)

So that was what he’d just said.

But I wondered—didn’t the cat ears mind getting wet?

He wasn’t an “Earth” cat, after all, so maybe it didn’t matter here?

I still couldn’t be sure.

I’d figured out this was a nation of beastmen, but maybe there were customs here only beastmen understood.

It might be nearly impossible for me to grasp everything about this world.

…Well, before that, I’d need to learn the language.

I wasn’t unusually bright, nor had I ever been interested in learning about foreign cultures.

“******.”

Lost in these thoughts, before I realized, the cloth had been stripped from me and I was in the bath.

The water was a bit lukewarm, though I couldn’t tell if that was custom or just for my sake.

“******.”

The cat ears spoke often, maybe uncomfortable with silence.

Even though I hadn’t yet learned those words, which meant I couldn’t possibly understand.

He kept me on his lap in the bath as well.

He really did have a thoroughly muscular body.

Maybe, even in a soldier’s role, you had to be this strong to do such dangerous work.

Was there a war going on?

But I hadn’t sensed a grim atmosphere; even the others besides the rabbit ears had seemed cheerful.

Did they stay ready for an enemy attack?

Or were they just not showing that kind of tension around me?

…I really couldn’t tell.

Not that it mattered much, since I only arrived today; I’d pick things up eventually.

…But more importantly, would I ever find a way home?

I also wanted to know why I’d shrunk, and why I’d come to this world in the first place.

Why had I come to this world in this form?