While we were burying the villagers, I came across my grandparents.
I dug a hole and buried them just like the others.
I never had any affection for them. My father was the middle child — with an older brother and a younger sister — the kind that always got ignored.
They didn't even come to see me until I was a month old. When they saw my black hair and black eyes, they claimed I must have been picked up from the forest — or worse, that my mother had cheated. My father was furious, they had a huge fight, and after that, they never spoke again.
I never met my maternal grandparents; they died when my mother was still a child. Later, she was taken in by Lina's grandmother.
Lina didn't care much about her grandparents either — pretty much for the same reason. Her hair and eyes didn't resemble her parents' at all.
No one else in the village had black or white hair, nor did any outsiders ever visit, so the whole "cheating"" theory made no sense.
Since no one could explain it, and there was no religion or god to blame, people just treated us like outcasts. That's why Lina and I never played with anyone else — as long as we had each other, it was enough.
By the time we finished burying everyone, the sun was setting. The sky was dim, and both our stomachs were growling. We started thinking about what to do for dinner and where to sleep.
"Lina, let's go to the village chief's house," I suggested.
"Mm. Do you think there's still food there?"
"Let's find out."
Our first priority was dinner. When we buried the chief earlier, I'd checked his house — no one was inside. I saw that at that time, the village chief's house had only him inside.
We entered the chief's home. The moon had risen, and the only light came from its pale glow through the window — barely enough to see.
"Lina, close your eyes and count to a hundred. You'll see better afterward."
"Huh?"
Though confused, she obeyed and began counting.
In a dark room with just a hint of light, closing your eyes helps them adjust to the dimness.
"…98, 99, 100. Wow, it really worked!"
When Lina opened her eyes, I opened mine too. The outlines of the furniture were now clearer.
"See? I told you," I said proudly.
"You're amazing, Karen!" she beamed.
"Thanks. Now, let's find a flintstone."
"Okay!"
I started feeling around the kitchen for one. Even though I could see better, anything dark was still hard to spot.
"Karen, I found it!"
Her white hair made her easy to locate even in the dim light. She'd found the flintstone in a cabinet and handed it to me.
I grabbed some dry grass, stuffed it into the stove, and struck the flint until the sparks caught. When the flame finally took, I asked Lina to use her wind magic to make it stronger. Once it grew, we added twigs and firewood.
"The fire's good. Let's light the lamp."
I poured oil into a small dish, soaked a string in it, lit it with the fire, and set it on the table. The room instantly grew brighter.
"Brrr… it's so cold," Lina shivered, hugging herself.
I hurried to close all the windows. Then I turned to her.
"Now, we can start cooking dinner."
"Yeah!"
We found rice, potatoes, and carrots — enough for two people.
"Lina, let's cook together."
"Okay!"
I handed her a pot for rice and took a frying pan for myself. There were two stoves, so we each got one — perfect for saving time.
Lina cooked the rice while I stir-fried the potato and radish. Since we were both too short to reach the top comfortably, I dragged a stool to stand on.
When I finished, I poured the stir-fry onto a plate and placed it on the table. Then I set the pan in the water basin — better to soak it before the oil hardened.
Just then, the fragrant smell of cooked rice filled the air.
"It's ready!" Lina said excitedly.
She moved the pot off the stove, grabbed a cloth, and lifted the lid. A puff of hot steam whooshed out, making her jump back and flap her hands.
"Ahahaha!" I couldn't help laughing.
Lina glared at me, deadpan. "Karen. That's not funny."
I tried to hold back my laughter and apologize, but…
"Sorry, sorry—pffft, hahaha…"
"Ah! You're laughing again!"
I just couldn't stop picturing her startled face. Lina finally looked genuinely angry, and I panicked.
"Karen, I'm ignoring you."
"I'm sorry! Please don't ignore me!"
"If you laugh twice, you don't get forgiven. Hmph!"
She turned her head away. Damn it! Why did I laugh again? Quick, think—beg for mercy!
I bowed my head deeply. "Lina, I promise I'll never laugh at you again. Please forgive me."
If she didn't, I'd die of shame—again.
Then she looked at me, and the next words she said decided my fate.
"I forgive you."
"R-really?!"
"Yeah. I was just teasing you."
"Thank goodness… I thought you'd ignore me forever."
She smiled faintly. "If I ignored you, I'd be all alone."
I heard her mumble something softly, but I only caught the words "all alone".
"Huh? Did you say something?"
"N-no! Nothing! Let's eat!"
"Oh, okay."
Why did she get flustered all of a sudden? Maybe she's still mad?
Lina scooped some rice and handed me a bowl. "Here, Karen."
"Thanks. I'll grab the spoons."
I brought two spoons to the table, handed one to her, and started eating.
I took a spoonful of my stir-fried potatoes and carrots, chewed, and sighed.
"Lina… I think I cooked terribly."
It was dry and bland—nothing like Mom's. All those cooking shows in my past life were for nothing.
"It's not bad. I like it."
I looked at her face—completely expressionless as she ate. No joy, no disgust, just calm chewing.
A six-year-old was trying to comfort me. I couldn't let that stand! I had to redeem myself.
"I'll do better next time!" I declared.
"Mm." She nodded gently.