Of course, she had tried to leave.
But the door was deadbolted from the outside, and she couldn't open it no matter how hard she tried. Eventually, she gave up.
Perhaps because there was no way out, or perhaps because she had resigned herself to fate, she had abandoned any thought of resistance.
Yet, the uncertainty of what awaited her still filled her with dread. As Mahiro stepped further into the room, the fear in the girl's eyes intensified. Her face grew paler, and her entire body trembled uncontrollably.
Especially when Mahiro approached, she squeezed herself entirely into the corner.
The hard wall behind her seemed far safer and more reliable than he was.
When he reached out, the girl even tightly shut her eyes and hugged her head.
"..."
His initial intention to pat her head instantly vanished.
Mahiro even began to question himself—was he really that terrifying?
"Never mind, I'll cook first."
Shaking his head in frustration, Mahiro got up and headed to the kitchen, tossing the groceries he'd just bought inside before taking out some vegetables and meat.
If he wanted to get closer to the girl, he'd have to take it step by step. It really felt like raising a pet—newly adopted cats often acted this fearful.
After being let out of their cages, they'd hide in the darkest corners and refuse to come out.
In the kitchen.
The rice cooker hissed as steam billowed out.
The sharp knife glided swiftly across the cutting board as Mahiro deftly chopped ingredients while trying to chat with the girl—though it was mostly just him talking to himself.
"By the way, what's your name?"
"..."
"No name?"
"..."
"Alright, got it. My name is Yotsuba Mahiro—'Yotsu' as in the number, 'ba' as in the plant. You can call me whatever you like."
"..."
The girl still didn't react.
"Look, you don't need to be so wary. I already told you—I won't hurt you."
"..."
Even after his reassurance, the girl's alarmingly high guard remained unchanged. Clearly, she had been deeply hurt before. She found it strange, though, why he kept trying to talk to her.
Eventually, Mahiro gave up on the one-sided conversation and focused entirely on cooking.
After a while, four dishes, a soup, and a whole fish were ready, neatly arranged on the living room coffee table.
He didn't own a dining table, so meals were usually eaten here.
As the aroma spread, the girl finally reacted for the first time—her head shifted by millimeters, and her gaze fixed on the dishes and the steaming bowl of rice.
She couldn't remember the last time she had seen such delicious food...
The last time, she had probably peeked through someone's window to catch a glimpse of a meal like this.
Especially that bowl of hot, white stuff—was it called rice?
The girl wasn't sure because she had never eaten it before.
On top of that, she had no idea how many days it had been since she last ate. The mouthwatering scent was the deadliest temptation for her, especially since Mahiro's cooking was excellent—even a normal person would struggle to resist.
Her stomach growled loudly.
Yet, fear outweighed hunger, keeping her frozen in place.
Seeing her like this, Mahiro felt a mischievous urge.
Without asking or picking up his chopsticks, he simply sat on the sofa, watching the girl's reactions.
After about ten minutes, when she seemed on the verge of breaking,
He finally spoke:
"Want some?"
"...Can I...? Can... I eat?" The girl asked hesitantly, as if she couldn't believe it.
"Of course. Why else would I make so much? I just thought you might not be hungry since you weren't moving or saying anything, so I waited a bit longer."
Yet, hearing his words, the girl froze again.
Even in the quiet room, the sound of her swallowing and the growling of her empty stomach were unmistakable.
But she still didn't move. Instead, she hugged her legs tightly, as if restraining herself.
The two remained at a standstill for a while longer until, finally, the girl seemed unable to hold back any longer and spoke up:
"...Is there... a condition? Do you... want to hit me? Or... do something else... Stabbing is fine too... but can you make it quick?... If possible, I... don't want to be used... for weapon testing... It hurts."
Now it was Mahiro's turn to be speechless.
Just what kind of hell had this child been through?
He sighed helplessly.
"Why would I do any of that to you? I told you from the start—I won't hurt you."
This was the third time he had repeated those words.
But this time, the girl responded faster than before.
"Because... I'm a Gastrea..."
As if to remind him, she slowly raised her head, meeting his gaze for the first time—revealing her crimson eyes without reservation.
"A Gastrea? I haven't encountered one directly, but I've seen plenty of pictures and videos over the past couple of days. There's no doubt about it—you're not a Gastrea. You're human. A pretty cute girl, too... Well, once you're cleaned up, anyway."
Mahiro crossed his arms, scrutinizing her seriously.
Though she was disheveled, her hair tangled like weeds, there was no denying she was quite adorable, with delicate features.
But after his assessment, he couldn't resist joking:
"Unless you're like Saya and rewired my brain to make me see you as human instead of a Gastrea?"
Clearly, the girl had no idea what he was referencing from The Song of Saya.
Instead, she looked at him uncertainly.
"I'm... human...?"
She could hardly believe it—let alone being called cute.
Those people had always called her an ugly monster...
It couldn't be helped. After being told she was a Gastrea so many times, she had started to believe it herself.
Like the Goebbels effect—repeat a lie enough, and it becomes the truth.
And when countless people say it, the process accelerates.
"Don't doubt it. Taxonomically speaking, you're 100% human—same species as me. Or do you think I'm not human either?"
"N-no..."
The girl shook her head quickly.
How could such a handsome big brother not be human? If anything, someone as filthy as her didn't deserve such high praise.
"Never mind, let's save the philosophical and biological discussions for later. If you don't eat soon, the food will get cold~"
"...Why...?"
The girl didn't move, instead murmuring as if choking back tears: "...Why... are you being so kind to me..."
She had always been surrounded by malice, subjected to harsh words.
For the first time in her life, she was being treated with such gentleness, spoken to so kindly.
Even her own mother had never been this gentle with her, calling her a monster before ultimately abandoning her on the streets to fend for herself.
"Why? That's actually a good question."
Mahiro thought seriously for a moment. "If I had to say, there's no special reason. Just simple compassion, I suppose."
"Com... compassion?"
"Yeah, just like how some people can't help but feed stray cats or dogs they see on the street? And you're a little girl in distress—I can't just stand by and do nothing. Sorry, but that's not who I am."
It was just like his first encounter with Tendo Kisara.
Back then, he could have walked away without helping, but in the end, he couldn't stop himself from stepping in.
"..."
The girl struggled to understand his words—or perhaps him as a person. He seemed completely different from the adults she knew.
Like some kind of oddball.
And so, her wariness lessened slightly.
Slowly, she rose from the corner, swaying slightly as she made her way toward the coffee table.
"Oh? Ready to eat? Not just yet, though."
Just as the girl reached the table, her hand stretching eagerly toward the rice—her fingertips already feeling its warmth—Mahiro suddenly grabbed her wrist.
"...Ah!"
Fear instantly flooded her eyes, leaving no room for any other emotion. She thrashed violently, desperate to break free, to run away!
But weakened by hunger, she had no strength to resist.
"Stop squirming!"
Mahiro tightened his grip slightly. "I'm not saying you can't eat, but look at how dirty your hands are! Come wash them first!"
That's right.
He cared about hygiene.
Allowing her to eat without bathing first was already pushing his limits.
But eating without washing her hands? Absolutely not.
Ignoring her protests, he dragged her to the sink, turned on the faucet, and began scrubbing her hands.
As the murky water swirled down the drain and the soap dispenser gradually emptied, her hands were finally clean.
Delicate, flawless, porcelain-like hands—so pristine they could belong to a noble young lady.
But that was just an illusion.
It was merely the result of the regenerative abilities granted by the Gastrea virus, keeping her hands perpetually unblemished.
Now that her hands were forcibly cleaned, the girl stood awkwardly, unsure where to place them, terrified of getting them dirty again.
She remained frozen in place, as if awaiting his next command.
"Alright, no need to stand there. Go ahead and eat."
At his permission, a flicker of life returned to her crimson eyes—a glimmer of longing for the meal before her.
Even after getting his permission, she stumbled back to the dining table and immediately grabbed handfuls of rice with her hands, shoving them into her mouth.
The moment she ate it, those crimson eyes widened instantly, shimmering with continuous brilliance.
So delicious...
This was the best food she had ever eaten in her life!
Without caring whether the rice below was scalding hot, she grabbed it and stuffed it fiercely into her mouth.
So much so that she didn't even need the side dishes, clinging solely to that bowl of rice.
Mahiro didn't say anything, only occasionally picking up a few bites of dishes and placing them into the girl's bowl.
Only then would she wolf down the rice and dishes together into her mouth.
In less than a minute, the girl finished eating, even downing the bowl of soup he had just served.
Clearly, such a small amount couldn't possibly fill her stomach, which had been starving for so long.
However, Mahiro didn't plan to give her a second bowl either. After all, after starving for so long, eating too much at once could make her burst...
Perhaps the physique of a cursed child was strong enough not to worry about such things, but he saw no need to gamble on it.
After finishing, the girl stood dumbly in place, becoming wooden again, as if waiting for judgment.
This was the first time she had ever eaten such delicious food. It felt like even if this were her last meal in life, it wouldn't matter.
After all, being able to taste something this delicious meant her life was already complete. She didn't dare ask for anything more.
"...Thank you..."
The girl bowed to express her gratitude, feeling she had to do this, so for the first time in her life, she uttered the word "thanks."
She never imagined she would ever use this word toward someone else in her lifetime.
"You're welcome. But since you haven't eaten normally for so long, this is all you can have at once. Is that okay?"
"Okay... May I ask what happens next? Are you going to start hitting me?"
".....?"
The girl's sudden question left him momentarily stunned.
"If possible... could you wait a little before hitting me? I don't want to throw up such delicious food. After that, you can kill me if you want. I won't run away. Is that okay?"
As she spoke these words, the girl grew even more uneasy, her tone laced with desperate pleading, as if she had already prepared herself for death.
For some reason, an overwhelming sense of suffocation welled up in Mahiro's chest.
A child this young, just to keep the food in her stomach, was begging for death...
Honestly, for a moment, Mahiro didn't know how to respond to her.
If he had a cigarette, he might have even wanted to smoke one—it was just that oppressive.
Who had ever seen a world so utterly fucked up to this degree?
He certainly hadn't. Not even the darkest corners of the Fourth Research Institute were this bleak.
After a long silence, with the girl staring at him for so long, Mahiro finally adjusted his mindset and asked:
"Since we can communicate, can you tell me your name now? Or do you not have one?"
"...I do."
"What is it?"
The girl's lips parted slightly, as if hesitating, then tightly closed again, as though she couldn't bring herself to say it.
After repeating this several times, she finally let out a whisper so faint it was almost inaudible.
"Mi... Mi... bu... Asaka..."
"Mibu Asaka..."
Upon hearing this name, Mahiro's first thought was of the tachi-wielding loli from that anime who followed around a certain bald uncle.
Could it really be her...?
Now that he thought about it, there was indeed some resemblance—especially that nearly waist-length black hair...
Come to think of it, he seemed to have quite a connection with the Mibu surname. In his original world, the first person he'd gone all the way with and established a relationship with was a Mibu. And now here was another little Mibu.
But whether this was truly fate would depend on the girl's choice next.
Mahiro suddenly sat up straight, startling the girl. She instinctively hunched her shoulders, thinking he was about to strike.
Yet true to their agreement, she didn't retreat a single step, standing her ground firmly.
However, instead of the expected punches or kicks, what came was a question.
"Little Mibu, do you want to stay?"
"Huh...?"
Asaka seemed unable to comprehend his words, letting out a dazed sound.
"What I mean is, my place could use someone to help with cleaning. So if you'd like to stay, you can help me tidy up in your spare time."
"Of course, if you'd rather not, you're free to leave. I won't stop you—and I certainly won't hit you."
"The door is right there."
Mahiro had great respect for the choices of others.
Though he pitied the girl, that didn't mean he would force her to stay.
Yet, Asaka didn't move. Instead, she stared at him, her pupils trembling faintly as she asked in a shaky voice:
"...C-can I?"
"Of course. Unless... you don't know how to clean?"
"I... I can..."
"Then it's settled. Just so you know, I only provide food and lodging here—no salary."
"I don't... need money... just food... no, even leftovers are fine."
"Ha, what kind of nonsense is that? That'd make me a child abuser. But based on your answer, I'll take it as a yes, right?"
"...Yes, I want to..."
The girl nodded firmly.
At this point, she had no other path to take. If given the choice, she would never return to that half-dead existence in the trash bins again.
Even if this man's offer turned out to be a beautiful lie, even if a trap awaited her, she was willing to step into it.
After all, it was because of him that she had tasted something so delicious for the first time in her life.
"Good. That's the right answer."
Mahiro smiled and stood up, walking over to pat the girl's head again.
This time, though Asaka was still afraid, she didn't flinch or pull away. She let his warm hand rest on her head, gently ruffling her hair.
That warmth reminded her of earlier.
It really felt... like the touch of a god...
"Oh, right. I forgot to ask—how old are you, little Asaka?"
"...N-nine."
"Hmm... That's not too young. Can you bathe yourself?"
Though she didn't understand why he asked, she nodded to confirm she could.
"Alright, go take a bath first. I'll assign you a room afterward."
His apartment wasn't particularly large or luxurious, but it had plenty of space—four bedrooms and a living room.
So, he took Asaka's slightly greasy little hand and led her to the bathroom. After giving her a quick tutorial, he left her to it.
As for her discarded clothes, he tossed them all into the trash.
They were far too filthy to salvage.
"I'll take her shopping tomorrow or the day after when I have time."
Mahiro leaned back on the sofa, clasping his hands behind his head as he stared at the ceiling.
Listening to the sound of running water from the bathroom, he settled his thoughts and began planning his next steps.
This godforsaken world—he couldn't let it keep going like this!
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