As Ruth raised his hand and swept back his bangs, he remembered that someone was sitting across from him. After coming to this place, his daily routine included a series of pain. Trapped in a mental state of depression and feeling lethargic, he didn’t want to think about anything. He no longer had an appetite nor the will to carry on; his only wish was for time to speed up.
His frame of mind bothered him constantly. But there was one girl in this place that talked to him and kindly shared food with him. It was Freya, and he did appreciate her presence. She was also the person who’d discovered him passed out on the ground, and she’d shown feelings toward Ruth from the beginning. He felt a little sympathy for her, yet a little distance, but he still found her intriguing.
She kept reaching out to him, even when he’d hidden in the shadows, pretending to be dead. I am at this low point, but is it all right?
Unbelievably, Freya seemed to perceive him as someone she was supposed to protect. Her warm eyes showed no ill will, and she was the only person in the entire world who looked at Ruth like that. He wasn’t exactly sure what these feelings were now, but he liked Freya. Ruth rubbed his hands over his face, recalling their conversation the other day. It was rare to find someone who preferred him over gold.
Freya’s plain face may not have been exquisite, but his already adult heart was beating at a different pace than hers, and he knew that she was the only girl for him. Because she was the one who had held his hand when he was on the brink of falling off a proverbial cliff, he would never let her hand go, no matter what.
“What are you doing here, Ruth?” Freya asked while she knitted.
He got a fright as she interrupted his deep thoughts, and he shyly spoke, hiding all his grim expression, “I’ve been waiting for you.”
“What? You know you look like a wet dog waiting for his owner.”
“Now I’m a dog?”
Freya faintly laughed at his words, and Ruth liked seeing her face like that.
There had been a commotion all day about the man who had come to buy furniture at the orphanage. The long table and chairs in the dining room, and a couple of beds, were carried out the front door. All that was left was the bare minimum in Sophia’s room.
“You guys are lucky to buy such things at a bargain price,” Sophia had spat as she’d received the money for the furniture, with a sour look on her face. The orphanage had felt empty and colder after the commotion.
“Ruth. I don’t think there’s anyone here today,” Freya said. None of the grumpy cooks were in the kitchen during the day. Because at times like this, Sophia would go out and party.
Suddenly there was thunder and lightning, and soon heavy rain began to pelt down on the windows of the orphanage. Ruth was surprised when Freya flinched, and he chuckled, “You said you aren’t afraid of ghosts, but you’re afraid of rain and thunder?”
Freya got defensive, even more so when Ruth continued to smile and said bluntly, “It’s not the rain that scares me. I don’t like the flashes and loud noises in the sky.” After some time of silence, the two grabbed candles and lit them in the attic.
“This place should be okay, right?” She asked somewhat fearfully. The tiny attic felt warmer than the room with no furniture, and the two of them sat close together, facing each other.
“The day that my parents abandoned me and left me here, someone told me that it had rained heavily. I think that’s why I don’t like rain.”
As Ruth reached out and grabbed Freya’s hand, he whispered his secret to her, “I’ll be with you when it rains, forever.”
Freya seemed to have fallen asleep, listening to Ruth’s pleasing voice. There might be some luck in her life after all that she hadn’t known was there.
Freya had taken charge of the cooking and cleaning, working around the orphanage all day long until her mouth dried up. But despite her efforts, Sophia was never satisfied, as per usual. I have to be as careful as I can at times like this.
Freya, who had known Sophia for a long time, tried hard not to provoke her if she could. However, Sophia’s nerves, which relied on alcohol all day, were sharp. She hit Freya as soon as she found something wrong with her meal or if the cleaning didn’t get done to her standards.
“You brought this for me to eat!?” Sophia had shouted one day, turning the porridge with boiled potatoes upside down. Covered in hot porridge, Freya didn’t bother to explain that those were the only ingredients. Even if she did try, she knew she would get hit with Sophia’s rod even harder.
Today Sophia had exploded in a fit of rage because Freya had combed her hair too hard. “Can’t you do anything right? Are you ignoring me?” Sophia grabbed the comb and then beat Freya recklessly.
She had thought of Ruth while covering her face from Sophia’s attack because she didn’t want him to see her like that. Sitting in the corner, he balled his fists like he was about to come and save her. Ruth, don’t look at me now.
Ruth’s sensitive skin would never be able to endure such a beating. Freya thought about how people died from being beat like this. Her skin was starting to peel off, and at this point, she’d had enough of being smacked around.
“Auntie, I messed up.” As she begged, Ruth thrust his body forward.
Freya signaled to him not to come as she pleaded, “Auntie, I will do better.”
“Why didn’t you do better from the start? What could I expect from a child with no foundation?” Sophia smacked Freya on the top of her head with the handle of a dust tray.
The atmosphere was getting worse and worse, and Ruth, who couldn’t stand watching, blocked the front of Freya and shouted, “Stop, please!”