"Young Master, I'm going to the market."
I looked up from my book.
Shenhe stood by the door, and for a moment, I almost didn't recognize her.
She was wearing something that wasn't her usual maid outfit. Normal clothes. A simple dress in pale blue that made her white hair stand out even more. It was loose at the shoulders, fitted at the waist—the kind of thing regular people wore to run errands.
Her hair was down. It was flowing past her shoulders. Catching the morning light.
She looks... different.
Normal.
Almost like a regular person.
Almost like someone who isn't constantly watching me from doorways.
"You're... going out?"
My voice came out rougher than intended. Probably because I was still processing the sight of her in civilian clothes.
"Yes. We need supplies."
She held up a list. Written in perfect handwriting. Each item categorized by section of the market—produce, meat, dry goods, household. The paper was crisp, clean, folded precisely in thirds.
Color-coded, probably.
She definitely color-coded it.
"Angy's not going?"
"Angy is staying with you." A pause. Those blue eyes met mine. "Someone needs to make sure you don't do anything stupid."
Fair.
Completely fair.
I probably would do something stupid.
"How long will you be gone?"
"An hour. Maybe two." She studied me with that unreadable expression. "Will you be okay?"
Will I be okay?
Left alone with Angy for two hours?
In this house?
With no supervision?
Angy, who fluffs pillows seventeen times and optimizes windows?
Angy, who fights over my pillow like it's a national treasure?
"Will I survive?" I asked.
"That's the question."
"Probably."
Shenhe's eyebrow twitched. The closest she came to expressing doubt in her entire emotional repertoire.
"I'll be back soon. Don't let Angy do anything—" she searched for the right word, her gaze drifting toward the kitchen where Angy was presumably causing chaos, "—creative."
Creative.
That's one word for it.
"Good luck," I said.
She left.
The door clicked shut.
Silence.
Real silence. The kind that only existed when Shenhe wasn't silently observing from somewhere.
Then, from the kitchen: "She's gone?!"
Angy's head appeared around the corner. Grinning like a child whose parents had just left for date night.
"She's GONE!"
Oh no.
Oh no no no.
I had a bad feeling about this.
• • •
[ Shenhe at the Market]
The market was crowded.
Shenhe moved through it with practiced efficiency, the kind born from years of doing exactly this.
She wove between shoppers like water flowing around stones, never slowing, never stopping, never apologizing for existing in their space.
Her list guided her. Vegetables first. Then rice. Then meat. Then the good tea that Young Master liked but pretended not to care about.
She paused at the vegetable stall.
The vendor was that same old woman with kind eyes and weathered hands. The same person who'd been working this market for decades.
"Back again, dear?" The woman smiled, revealing gaps where teeth used to be. "You were here a few days ago."
"Yes." Shenhe selected tomatoes with surgical precision. Checked each one for bruises, for soft spots, for any imperfection that might make them less than perfect. "We need more."
"For that boy of yours?"
Shenhe's hand paused mid-selection. Just for a fraction of a second. Barely noticeable.
But the old woman noticed.
"He's not—" Shenhe started.
"I've seen you with him." The old woman chuckled, a warm sound like cracking wood. "And the blonde one. You three move like family."
Family.
The word hung in the air.
Shenhe didn't correct her.
She thought about it. About the three of them in that house. About seventeen years of mornings and evenings and meals shared. About arguments and laughter and the quiet moments in between.
Family.
"Is that what this is?"
She didn't say it aloud.
But she thought it.
"His appetite is... significant," she said instead, returning to the tomatoes.
"Growing boy needs to eat." The old woman weighed the tomatoes on an ancient scale. "You take good care of him. I can tell."
Shenhe paid. Moved to the next stall.
Take good care of him.
"Is that what we do?"
"Is that what this is?"
She thought about Nams as she walked. About the way he flinched when people touched him from behind.
About the way he checked exits every time he entered a room—a habit so ingrained he probably didn't notice it anymore.
About the way he'd looked at Angy's tears like he'd never seen anyone cry for him before.
Someone didn't take care of him.
Before us.
Someone let him become this.
Someone left him alone with whatever happened in that place he came from.
She added extra meat to her order. Extra vegetables. Extra of everything.
He'll need strength.
For whatever comes next.
[ Home , Ilsa]
Back at the house, chaos reigned supreme.
Angy had decided that "keeping Young Master company" meant sitting on his bed and telling him every single thought that entered her head. In real time. With no filter.
"And then the cat—Mochi, you remember Mochi—he just stared at me. For like five minutes. Just staring. With those yellow eyes. And I thought, 'Is he judging me? Is he planning something? What do cats even think about?'"
"I don't know." My voice carried the weight of someone who'd given up on understanding the world. "I've never been a cat."
"Right, right. But if you WERE a cat, what would you think about?"
"...Food?"
"Exactly! So Mochi was probably thinking about food. But what kind of food? Fish? Chicken? Those little crunchy treats they sell at the market? Because if it's treats, I need to know. Cats are picky."
"I don't—"
"Because if he wants treats, I can get treats. But I don't want to spoil him. You know? Balance is important. Too many treats and he'll get fat. But not enough treats and he'll be sad. It's a delicate ecosystem."
I stared at her.
Angy stared back, completely serious.
"Has anyone ever told you," I said slowly, "that you talk a lot?"
"All the time." She beamed, proud of the achievement. "I take it as a compliment. It means people are listening."
"That's not—never mind."
Shenhe returned an hour and forty-seven minutes later.
The house was still standing. No structural damage visible from outside.
She entered with bags full of food.
"Welcome back!" Angy called. "Did you get the good tea?"
"Yes."
"The expensive one?"
"Yes."
"The one Young Master pretends not to like?"
A pause.
"Yes."
From the couch.
"I can hear you."
"Good." Shenhe set down the bags. "You should know we notice these things."
I had no response to that.
Probably because there wasn't one.
Nya.
-----
------