The marketplace in the distance drew nearer, low shacks, crooked signs, scattered pedestrians hurrying past with their necks drawn into their shoulders against the biting wind.
Someone was selling frozen fish. Someone else was selling bullets. Someone was selling gray, block-shaped things that defied description.
Shiraha's gaze swept through the crowd, searching for that bare-legged little girl.
Elysia drifted behind him. She spoke softly, a trace of indefinable emotion in her voice. "Shiraha."
"Mm?"
"There."
Elysia extended a hand, her fingertip pointing toward a rice shop at the far end of the market. The playfulness in her voice was gone.
Shiraha followed Nee-chan's line of sight. At the entrance of the rice shop, a young girl in a thin little padded jacket was crouched on the ground. Her sky-blue eyes were fixed on the small bag of rice before her, as if calculating whether the money in her hand was enough.
Her legs were indeed bare. But on closer inspection, her calves were pale from the cold, the state that came after redness. They weren't trembling.
"Looks like she isn't a ghost, after all." Shiraha spoke softly.
Elysia didn't answer. Though she was very good at finding joy in hardship, she wasn't good at finding joy in the hardship of others.
Shiraha didn't hesitate. He pulled off his outer down jacket, jogged over, crouched down, and wrapped the still-warm coat around the girl's calves.
"Eh!"
K-423 instinctively wanted to lash out with a punch. But the boy hadn't tried to snatch her money. He'd simply crouched down, wrapped the coat, still carrying plenty of body heat around her calves, and bound it tight.
Elysia sighed. She couldn't even bring herself to crack a joke about Shiraha trying to win over another little girl.
The Far East was peaceful and thriving, growing more prosperous by the day. But this land was filled with disaster and suffering.
Shiraha carefully wound the sleeves together, wrapping the girl's two pale calves firmly and snugly. He patted his hands, then stood up. The motion was entirely natural.
This was the advantage of being young. No need to worry about anyone calling you a creep.
He asked, "Aren't you here to buy something?"
The little girl, K-423, hesitated for a moment. She looked down at the jacket still carrying his warmth wrapped around her legs, then lifted her head to look at the boy before her, his smile radiant.
Her stomach was growling. Her dad was hungry too. She bit her pale lower lip and spoke in a tiny voice, yet full of stubbornness. "I won't share any with you."
At this, Shiraha's smile grew even brighter. "I'm not short on money. What you've got there in your hand wouldn't even buy half my jacket."
"Oh..."
K-423 was instantly sunk.
Her head drooped. Her pale lips moved, but no words came out.
At this age, she didn't yet have much of a self. She only knew, by instinct, how to appease everything around her.
"Where's your grown-up? A kid holding money and showing up here isn't safe at all."
Shiraha glanced around. His words were too brazen or perhaps he wore his wealth too openly. Out here, he looked like a fat, juicy lamb.
K-423 was quiet for a moment. Sensation slowly returned to her calves, accompanied by a prickling sting. Her voice was dejected. "Dad doesn't like me very much. We've run out of food now. That's why I came out."
Shiraha's smile remained just as bright. K-423 didn't understand, why was this boy always smiling? But soon enough, she would.
Shiraha raised his hand and called out loudly, "Shopkeeper! I'll take all the rice in your store. Please have it delivered to the corner of the street, at Auntie Cocolia's outpost."
The hostile stares around them instantly diminished in number. Cocolia operated with ruthless aggression. Anyone who tried to snatch her grain purchases could expect to face her unrelenting retaliation.
Apart from children, Cocolia extended no tolerance to anyone, not even to the military.
Little K-423's eyes went wide. Her sky-blue irises were filled with disbelief. She floundered. "Th-Then... what do I buy?"
It hadn't truly been that long since she'd started forming lasting memories.
But in this stretch of wandering, K-423 had already learned one thing very clearly: whenever someone bought grain in bulk, the price of food all around would soon spike.
This boy with the dazzling smile... was a bad person!
"Perhaps—" Shiraha pretended to think for a moment, his smile growing even more brilliant. "You could buy me."
Even though he felt a little uncertain inside. He glanced at Nee-chan: Are you sure she's a promising seedling?
Elysia didn't catch his meaning. She just looked at him with those drifting, wistful eyes. Shiraha's movements were as smooth as a spoiled young master's, not a trace of the adorable, dashing boy who'd just been discussing how they'd build a beautiful world together.
Nee-chan's IQ seemed to have dropped out here in the snow. Shiraha stopped counting on her, withdrew his gaze, and looked back at the girl before him.
K-423 hadn't moved. The jacket was still tied around her legs, very warm. She was rapidly calculating in her head: If I start a fight, this jacket boy will definitely demand his clothes back. So fight later. Warm up first.
Shiraha spoke abruptly. "Siegfried's coming."
K-423 instantly scanned her surroundings with nervous tension. Her eyes held hope, but even more than hope, nervousness.
Shiraha now had a solid grasp of the situation.
"My name's Shiraha."
He extended his hand. K-423 didn't move. She just lowered her head. Very, very low.
"I don't have a name."
Dad doesn't care about me either.
Shiraha's extended hand lifted, his fingertips gently tilting her small chin upward, forcing her to look directly at him.
Watching from the side, Elysia's lips twitched slightly. She still said nothing.
"Your name is Kiana."
Shiraha spoke seriously, each word distinct. He didn't care what anyone else called her, here, with him, K-423 would be Kiana. What if changing her name caused the destined Herrscher of Finality to vanish? When the time came, who would he study if he wanted to become Finality himself?
K-423 still gave no response. She just silently repeated the name in her heart. Kiana. It sounded lovely. Very lovely. She repeated it again in her heart, a little reluctant to let the feeling simply pass.
"I'll confirm one more time. Is your father named Siegfried?"
K-423 silently recited the name once more in her heart. Kiana. This name truly was beautiful. When she got home, she'd ask Dad how to write it.
Right. My name is Kiana now.
Finally, Kiana nodded. "You know Dad?"
"I don't." Shiraha shook his head. Watching the light instantly dim in Kiana's little eyes, he added, "But Uncle Ryoma does."
The light in Kiana's sky-blue eyes flickered back to life.
Just then, Tesla, who'd realized the child had vanished, finally caught up, arriving out of breath. She'd run the whole way and was panting heavily.
"Shiraha. You absolutely cannot run off alone in a place like this."
After a few deep breaths, she glanced at the little girl beside him, then at the clothes around the girl's legs, clothes unmistakably belonging to Shiraha.
Tesla was speechless.
Ryoma Raiden. Your adopted son seems to be working on winning over another girl. Maybe you should just legally adopt him as your real son after all. At least that way you'd have a guaranteed backup.
"Sorry, Tesla-nee. I thought I sensed Lord Siegfried's aura, so I ran all the way here."
Shiraha apologized decisively. Tesla looked at him, then looked down at her own not-especially-thick clothes. In the end, she steeled herself and prepared to take off her own coat for Shiraha. The kid couldn't be allowed to freeze.
But before she could move, Shiraha spoke softly. "Her name is Kiana."
Tesla's hands, midway through removing her coat, paused. Belatedly, she looked again at the girl beside her, the thin padded jacket, the pale little face, Shiraha's down coat wrapped around her legs, those sky-blue eyes watching her with unease.
Kiana thought for a moment, then lifted her head. "Mm. My name is Kiana."
Dad never gave me a name anyway. So I'll just give myself one.
My name is Kiana now.
Tesla was quiet for a beat. She pulled off her coat and draped it over little Kiana.
She straightened up. Her voice was neither pleased nor angry, betraying no particular emotion. "Where's Siegfried?"