My name is Lina, and I'm 6 years old. I have a childhood friend—he's my neighbor. Our parents were good friends, so we often played together.
He has soft, black hair and a handsome face—but that's not what matters most. He's smart and strong. When I lost control after my parents died, he comforted me. Even though his own parents had also passed away, he didn't break down. Instead, he stayed calm—almost as if he had known it would happen all along.
I didn't scream or cry for my parents. Everything happened too suddenly, and I hadn't yet accepted the truth. For a while, I thought I would have to live alone forever.
That's when he told me:
"I won't let you be alone. I'll always stay by your side and protect you."
From that moment, he became the person I could rely on. If he were to leave me too, I wouldn't know what to do.
Now, consciousness slowly returns to me from my dreams. I open my eyes and look to my side—where my childhood friend Karen should be sleeping.
But… he isn't there.
Panic surges through me. I sit up quickly and touch the spot where he was lying.
"...He's not here."
I glance around the room. He's nowhere to be seen.
A terrifying thought strikes me—did Karen leave me? Tears well up in my eyes and begin to fall. I wipe them away, whispering to myself again and again, "Karen, where are you?"
Then it hits me—maybe he hasn't gone far.
I jump off the bed, rush to the door, fling it open, and cry out as I run:
"Karen… where did you go?"
"Lina, I'm here"
I freeze when I hear his voice.
Turning toward the sound, I see him standing by the table.
Relief floods me—he didn't abandon me!
"Karen!"
He looks startled as I run toward him, full speed. I crash into him, knocking him off balance. He falls backward while I drop to my knees, burying my face into his chest and clinging to him tightly as tears spill out.
(He didn't leave me. Karen didn't leave me. I'm holding him—I won't ever let go.)
As I cry uncontrollably, his gentle voice reaches my ears.
"Lina, did you have a bad dream?"
"No…"
He sounds puzzled by my answer. "Then why are you crying?"
"Because when I woke up, you were gone. I thought… you didn't want me anymore."
After hearing my trembling words, he explained softly,
"I just couldn't sleep, so I came out to read a bit. But I can't understand a single thing in this book."
So that was it—he wasn't leaving me; he was just restless. Still, my heart wouldn't calm down right away. I lifted my head to look at him and asked again,
"Oh… so you're not leaving me?"
"Of course not. Lina, I'll say it as many times as you want. I'll never leave you."
He said it seriously, his face turning a little red as he smiled at me. That smile made me believe him completely.
"Karen, I believe you."
"Thank for believing in me."
Hearing his words made me so happy that I hugged him even tighter, pressing my face against his chest.
"Um… Lina?"
"What?"
"Can you… let go of me now?"
"No. You left me alone. This is your punishment."
Truth is, being in his arms made me feel safe. I wanted to stay like this forever, but I didn't want him to know how needy I was—so I used that excuse to keep holding him.
"Eh… fine."
He gave up. Perfect. I could keep clinging to him a little longer.
As I rubbed my cheek against his chest, memories of our first meeting came rushing back.
Karen was born a few months before me. Maybe we'd met when I was a newborn, but I don't remember. The first time I do remember seeing him was when I was two. Aunt Atris brought him to my house, holding his hand. I was scared of strangers back then and hid behind my mother, peeking out from behind her skirt.
Then Mom pulled me forward and told me to say hello—but I couldn't. I just looked down and fidgeted with the corner of my dress, too shy to speak.
That's when he spoke first.
"My name is Karen. What is your name?"
I mumbled for a long moment before finally whispering,
"...Li…na."
When he heard my name, he smiled brightly and reached out his hand.
"Lina, will you be my friend?"
Our mothers gasped in surprise, but all my attention was on him.
Friend? I didn't really know what that meant, so I asked,
"Friend?"
"Friend is someone who plays and talks with you."
Plays together… talks together… I didn't quite get it, but maybe I would someday. I remembered once seeing a boy and girl talking; the girl had said something like that, and the boy looked really happy. So I said the same.
"I… I do."
Then I reached out and took his hand. He looked shocked for a moment—did I do something wrong?—but then he smiled again.
"That's great."
I remember my mom joking, "It's like marrying off my daughter already." and Aunt Atris replying, "It's still too early for that."
I didn't understand what they meant at the time, so I ignored it.
After that, we talked a lot. At first, I could barely speak, but soon I found myself laughing with him. I was so happy—and so were our moms.
That night, my dad hugged me tightly without saying a word. Mom told him about Karen, saying he was such a smart boy. I told Dad all about our talk, and he hugged me even tighter. Mom sighed and muttered, "Honestly…"
From that day on, Karen came to play with me every day.
I always looked forward to seeing him. We talked at home, played outside, and even studied magic together. Being with him made me happy.
Karen taught me so many things—about the world, about people, and about kindness. It amazed me how smart he was, even though we were the same age. Compared to him, I was careless and forgetful. Mom used to say:
"Karen's like an older brother who takes care of you, and you're the little sister who needs looking after."
That made me so mad that I sulked all day. But Karen just smiled and said,
"You help me too, Lina. Just by being my friend."
I froze. I hadn't done anything for him—yet he said that being his friend helped him. I couldn't help but laugh, feeling silly for ever being angry.
I knew, deep down, that I relied on him too much. He never complained, but I hated how weak that made me feel. I wanted to be someone he could rely on too.
So I stopped being so forgetful and started learning more about our village.
When the demons attacked our home, my legs shook so badly I couldn't stand. It was Karen who gave me the courage to move. Even now, being able to sleep peacefully in this house—it's all thanks to him.
(In the end, I still rely on him. I cling to him… and I like him.)
After wiping away my tears, I finally let go of Karen and stood up beside him.
My gaze fell on the book he had been reading. I opened it—only to see rows of strange black marks. As I stared at them, the sounds spilled naturally from my lips…
"Ten Braves… defeated… the Demon Lord…"
"!?"
I heard Karen let out a startled gasp.
When I looked up, his face was full of shock as he asked me, his voice trembling with surprise.
"Lina, you can read this!? Wait, how do you even know how to read!?"
"I don't know."
So these black symbols were words… but I had no idea why I could recognize them. I was only saying what I saw. Did that mean Karen couldn't read them?
Then he asked me to read the entire book aloud for him. Was Karen relying on me now? That thought made me secretly happy, so I gladly agreed.
I read for a long time—page after page—until I finished the entire book. Afterward, Karen began asking me about each word's pronunciation, jotting something down on a piece of paper. Underneath the Melbusoda letters, he wrote another kind of script—one I had never seen before.
He told me it was a writing system he had invented himself. He's amazing!
But to his shock, I memorized all of it almost immediately. His eyes went wide in disbelief, and I had to hide my face behind a sheet of paper just to keep him from seeing me giggle. It was the first time I'd ever seen that kind of expression on him.
Once I was done laughing, I lowered the paper. Just then, a soft light began to shine around Karen, and a rooster's crow echoed outside. Our eyes met, and he was the first to speak.
"Lina, good morning."
So it was morning already. The light I'd seen was sunlight. I smiled at him.
"Good morning, Karen."
Hearing my reply, Karen continued,
"Let's wash up first, then have breakfast."
"Okay."
My stomach growled right on cue at the mention of food.
As I washed my face, I suddenly remembered something mother once said—that she won father's heart through her cooking, that it was how she made him unable to live without her.
Maybe I could do the same. Maybe I could win Karen's heart through food.
"Karen, let me cook breakfast. What do you want to eat?"
"Soup, please. Do you need me to help?"
"No need. You should go study the Melbusoda script instead."
If he helped, there'd be no point in me cooking. Besides, he said he wanted soup—something I'd watched Mother make countless times. I could definitely make it delicious.
"…Alright then." He said, looking a little disappointed.
It's okay. Once he tastes it, he'll be full of energy again.
I started by cooking the rice, then took out the potatoes, carrots, and onions. I washed them carefully, cut them into bite-sized pieces, and tossed them into the pot once the water began to boil, stirring it gently as steam rose.
A rich, savory aroma soon filled the air. It must be almost done. The smell of rice drifted over too, so I moved the pot off the fire and placed it on the table.
Yesterday, the steam had hit me in the face when I lifted the lid, scaring me half to death. So this time, I stood back and opened it slowly. As expected, a cloud of steam burst out. When it cleared, I scooped two bowls of rice and carried them to the table.
"Breakfast is ready."
Karen looked up and immediately cleared the space in front of him. I placed the bowls down and went back to fetch the soup.
The soup was done, simmering thick and fragrant. But I couldn't hold a full bowl with one hand, so I used both to bring the first one to Karen. He stood up quickly and took it from me, while I went back for my own.
"Lina, how did you even make something that tastes like this?"
Karen asked as I was mid-scoop, his tone a little strained. Oh! Was it really that delicious? I'm amazing! Though honestly, I had just copied what Mother always did.
"Just the usual way. Why are you making such a pained face? Are you okay?"
But his expression was one of deep suffering, and I couldn't help but worry. Then he smiled faintly.
"Really? I'm fine."
I sat down with my bowl, ready to eat. But then Karen spoke again.
"Lina, is there still soup left in the pot?"
I glanced at his bowl—he hadn't even finished what was in it! Wait… did that mean it was so good he wanted seconds already? Did I really capture his heart through cooking? My heart fluttered with excitement as I asked,
"There's still plenty. Does it taste good?"
Karen smiled and nodded.
"…Yeah."
I took a bite of rice. Mmm, that part was delicious!
Then suddenly, Karen gulped down his soup and rice, grabbed his bowl, and rushed to the kitchen. I watched in astonishment as he poured himself bowl after bowl of soup, drinking until the entire pot was empty.
(Was it really that good!? Mom, you were amazing after all!)
I felt proud, but Karen just stared at me blankly and said,
"Lina, you should have some soup too."
I scooped up a spoonful and tasted it—then nearly froze. It was awful.
Why!? I followed Mom's recipe exactly! My heart sank instantly.
"Karen… I'm sorry…"
I thought I had done so well, but he had been kind enough to eat it all just to spare my feelings. I felt so stupid, so full of myself.
"From now on, I'll do the cooking." Karen said gently.
But I wanted to be like Mother—to stand beside the one I loved. That was the one thing I couldn't give up.
"No! I'll work hard, so please let me cook!"
I clenched my fists, looking straight at him, trying not to cry.
"Then… let's cook together from now on."
Karen agreed, and I couldn't help smiling.
"Really?! Yay! I can keep cooking!"
I jumped up from my chair, filled with renewed determination.
(Someday, I'll make you fall for my cooking, Karen. You won't be able to live without me.)
Karen watched my excitement and let out a sigh.
"Alright, finish your breakfast first."
"Uh…"
I'd gotten so happy that I completely forgot about the soup. Even though I made it, I really didn't want to take another bite. I looked down at the bowl, dreading it.
"We can't waste food, you know." he reminded me.
"…Mm."
His tone was gentle but firm, just like my parents used to say. I took my time, forcing down each spoonful. Thankfully, the rice was still good—it made the ordeal bearable.
"I finally finished it." I sighed, feeling like I'd fought a long battle.
Karen clapped his hands together.
"You did great, Lina. I'm proud of you."
It felt like he was praising a child, which made me a little angry—but I kept quiet. After all, I'd only eaten one bowl while he finished an entire pot. I wasn't in any position to complain.
"Karen, you're the amazing one. You drank the whole pot of soup."
"Haha…" he replied with an awkward laugh, brushing it off.