After finishing the lunch Elizabeth had prepared for him, steamed rice, vegetable curry, and miso soup. Markara leaned back in his chair, completely full and honestly impressed.
The food was so superb that Markara emptied his plate very quickly.
He looked around the quiet kitchen, then stood up with his empty plate on hand.
"Where is everyone ?" he asked, glancing toward the door.
Elizabeth, who had been gently wiping down the counter, didn't even pause.
"Everyone is at school at the moment, Master."
Her voice was calm.
"You'll meet them once they return"
Markara nodded and walked toward the sink.
But the moment he rolled up his sleeves, Elizabeth turned and swiftly stepped in.
"Please rest assured, master, this is something that I should do."
She gently took the plate from his hands before he could protest.
"No, no—I'll do it," Markara said quickly, gently taking the plate back from her hands.
"You already made this delicious curry… at least let me help with something."
Elizabeth blinked, her hands pausing midair as he stepped in front of the sink and started doing the dishes.
He began washing the plates, bowl and chopstick carefully, scrubbing the surface with practiced ease.
He didn't rush, the way he did was like someone who is good at doing this.
Elizabeth tilted her head slightly, watching him with wide eyes.
"Wow.. master is really good at this" she said, her voice light with surprise.
Markara let out a soft laugh. "I always do the dishes when I am back home."
At that moment, Elizabeth smiled.
Not the polite, rehearsed kind she always wore.
But something smaller… softer. Almost human.
"You are really… my master," she whispered under her breath.
Markara didn't quite catch it. He tilted his head slightly, but before he could ask, Elizabeth had already turned away—gliding back toward the counter, her expression reset to its usual calm.
She busied herself with a rag, wiping down the stove as she subtly kept an eye on Markara, who was now drying the dishes and stacking them neatly on the rack.
It was silent again for a moment
Then Elizabeth spoke again, her voice gentle as always.
"Master, why don't you take a walk around the building premises?"
It wasn't a command—more like a polite suggestion.
And honestly, it sounded like a good idea.
Markara nodded. "Yeah… that might help me get familiar with the place."
He slipped on his jacket, zipped it halfway, and made his way to the entrance.
The moment he stepped outside, he paused.
The air was crisp and clean, the kind that filled your lungs and cleared your head.
It was spring.
Birds chirped from somewhere in the trees, and the soft wind carried the scent of blooming flowers. Everything around the dorm was green, fresh, and full of life.
Markara took a slow breath and let it out.
He stepped off the porch and followed the stone path that curved gently behind the building.
The further he walked, the quieter everything became.
Eventually, the path opened into a hidden garden.
And it was huge.
Rows of vegetables and herbs stretched out on either side—carrots, tomatoes, leafy greens—all carefully tended. On the far side, small fruit trees bloomed with early spring blossoms, their petals dancing in the breeze.
It felt like something out of an old countryside film.
Right in the center of it all stood a stone well, weathered with time, moss growing along its rim. Vines crawled up one side, as if nature had been slowly trying to reclaim it.
Markara paused, tilting his head.
This place... it doesn't feel like a school garden at all.
Markara took another step forward—
And then he heard it.
"...hmm mm "
A soft humming. Gentle and warm, like a lullaby drifting through spring air.
He froze.
The sound felt alive—comforting, almost magical. But more than anything, it made him wonder.
I thought everyone was at school…
Cautiously, he followed the sound.
Through the rows of vegetables, past the blossoming trees… until he reached the base of a large oak tree at the edge of the garden.
The humming grew clearer. Louder.
And then he saw her.
A girl sat beneath the tree, dressed in a white gown, her long red hair catching the sunlight like threads of fire. A delicate crown of flower vines rested on her head, as if nature itself had woven it for her.
She was kneeling beside a small white rabbit, feeding it quietly—her expression peaceful, almost dreamlike.
Markara blinked, stunned by the sight.
"W-What are you... doing here?" he asked without thinking.
His voice broke the moment.
The rabbit startled and bolted, disappearing into the trees.
The girl froze.
Then, slowly… she turned to him.
Her bright green eyes were wide with surprise. And something else.
Fear
"...You can… see me?" she whispered.
Her voice was soft—delicate—but her English was broken, slightly accented, each word careful.
Markara blinked, confused by the question.
He tilted his head slightly, then raised a hand in greeting and took a step forward.
"Uh… my name is Markara," he said with a friendly smile. "I just transferred here. Nice to meet you!"
The red-haired girl flinched.
She looked at him like a startled animal—unsure if she should run or stay. Her whole body tensed, like she expected him to hurt her.
Markara paused. Wait… why is she so scared?
Then her earlier question echoed in his mind: "You can see me?"
It finally hit him.
Did she not expect to be seen?
He took a slow breath and gave her a gentler smile.
"Don't worry," he said softly. "I'm not a bad person. I promise."
She stared at him, silent.
And then—
She pointed at him.
"Your… soul," she said, struggling to pronounce the word in English.
"Is… warm."
The red-haired girl slowly regained her composure.
The fear in her eyes began to fade, replaced by something gentler.
Trust.
For some reason, she seemed to relax around him.
Markara, on the other hand, was still a little puzzled.
He scratched his head awkwardly.
What did she mean by "your soul is warm"?
Before he could ask, the girl gave him a shy smile—small, but genuine.
Then, without a word, she held out small berries in both hands.
"...Umm, thanks," Markara said, blinking.
He reached out and carefully took it from her.
"Fruit is… sweet," she said slowly. "Good… for you."
Her pronunciation was a little rough—almost childlike—but she was clearly trying her best.
Markara smiled and began to throw some into his mouth.