Early morning — the sun is just beginning to rise. Living here, I'm used to waking early and starting work right away. After all, a pastry shop always needs help: cleaning, cooking, serving customers, delivering orders. But today I can sleep a little longer.
Today is my day off.
Oddly enough, I don't need much time to rest. I wake up and that's it. I am surprised at how little time I need to rest. I don't have much strength in my body, but it comes back fast. A short rest and I'm ready for new achievements.
The others are still asleep, so I quietly slip out of the room and head to the kitchen. A couple of onigiri and some tea are all I need for breakfast — I'm not very good at cooking, so onigiri will do. Everyone else won't wake for another two hours, so I can do the housework and make food for them, too. Fortunately, I have everything I need. I should go to the fish market today; they've apparently brought in a new batch of salmon from the Thirtieth District. Although it would be better for Momoto-san to go herself— she knows more about fish — and there's a festival today, so she'll definitely buy something good there. I have things to do right now.
After finishing my meal and tea, I leave breakfast for the others on the table with a note. Everything as usual.
I'll go now.
First I take my stash from the utility room. Yes, Momoto-san pays us for our work. We help her a lot, so we deserve at least a small salary. Although at first, as Kittan said, she just gave the children money for small things — toys and the like. Not much, but still. But everyone here is proud and wouldn't accept money outright, so she came up with the idea of a salary. I completely agree with that. We're already a burden on her; it's better to work and help than to ask. Besides, she isn't poor — she can afford it.
I also have a little money, though I don't feel like spending it. I have free food, I can get sweets at the bakery, I have a place to sleep, and Kittan gave me his old clothes. I don't really need more. In general, money doesn't hold particular significance for me. I respect it, but I don't make it the basis of my life.
I used to think that I would spend all my money on a sword or something like that, but the Academy will provide everything I need anyway. Then I decided that extra money wouldn't hurt, so now I'm just saving it — for a rainy day or something. There's no need to worry about Momoto-san. Her pastry shop is popular, especially among shinigami, so criminals avoid this place and her friendship with Teguchi-dono also scares off idiots.
But last year I found something to spend my accumulated money on. Now the time has come.
I have a decent amount saved. I earn about thirty mon a month. Right now I have 132 mon. The currency in the Soul Society is as follows: there are copper coins called mon; 100 mon make one silver Hoei, and ten silver coins make one gold Ryo. That's it. There are even larger denominations, but us commoners never even get to see them. For reference: for 3 mon you can buy a dango stick or two onigiri. I earn four mon a day for my work — more than enough for a child.
So, after hiding my savings, I head to the market, taking some sweets I've accumulated: a couple of candies and cakes to give away. At the market, I buy a bag of rice, a few loaves of bread, and other small items. I pop into the pharmacy and pick up the medicine they need. Then, piling everything on my back, I hurry to the district's exit. I move, as always, quickly and quietly. There's no need for everyone to see me carrying food somewhere. So I walk along the wall, slip under the fence, and I'm out of town.
Ah, if only I could learn shunpo.
I saw a shinigami move like that once, but Rangiku refused to teach me. She said I was still too young. Well, never mind, I think I understand how they did it, even though I can't do it yet. Maybe now, with the new training method, I'll manage something.
Leaving the neighborhood, I go deeper into the forest.
This isn't my first time here, so I already know the secret path — quiet, unnoticed, and easy. Although there's no real secret: I'm not doing anything illegal or wrong.
Soon the forest path brings me to the place.
A small village of four dilapidated houses. People live very poorly here, but at least it's safer than it was in the Eighties.
"Hello, everyone!" I call.
The houses begin to stir. A thin, pale woman in patched clothes comes out of one house with two children about seven years old. An old man emerges from another. A one-legged man on crutches shuffles out of the third. No one comes from the last house; there is only one resident left there, and he is unwell.
"Karasumaru is back!" the children shout and run to me. The woman also hurried over to me and helped me take off the bag. The children are a boy and a girl, twins named Tetsu and Tatsu: funny, cheerful, and energetic, both with brown hair and brown eyes. Their mother, Honoka-san, is a young, very thin woman with black hair and brown eyes.
"Karasumaru-kun," the old man smiles. He has been bald and beardless for a long time — his name is Bori.
"Oh, I didn't think you'd come so early," says Andy-san, the one-legged, brown-haired man. He approaches and tries to help, but Honoka-san won't let him strain himself.
"I did what I could. The medicine has arrived," I say, taking out the bottle. "I hope it helps."
"Thank you, Karasumaru-kun," Honoka-san says through her tears.
"Don't mention it — I couldn't not help."
The kids carry the rice into the old man's house and went to prepare the meal. I went to help the sick man.
There, in the house, lies Hotaru, a skinny, pale boy my age. He gets sick very often. Everyone already understands he won't live long, so they do whatever they can to help him.
Who are these people, you ask? It's simple — they are the Marked. Although in reality there is no mark on them. These people suffer from the superstitions of those around them. In places where the Hollows are extremely rare and education is poor, more and more minds are struck by stupidity. They have never seen monsters, so they spread rumors and gossip. In their view, people wounded by the Hollows carry darkness and contagion within them, bringing misfortune and failure. Superstitious fools make life impossible for these unfortunate people.
The Marked are not allowed to live in safe districts, they aren't hired for work, and no one will sell them anything. They are cut off from society and treated like lepers. Such people have only two options: go deep into the woods and try to hide, surviving in the wilderness without the protection or support of the shinigami and without the benefits of civilization; or become bandits and thieves. There seems to be no other way out. Of course, they can live in other districts, but that can be dangerous too. If you are a resident of the Tenth District and you are wounded by the Hollow, you will be driven away — even your relatives or friends won't stand up for you. It's cruel.
Rangiku confirmed that this is complete nonsense. There is no curse on them; on the contrary, such people often become shinigami, and not weak ones at that. But how do you explain this to stupid idiots? Everyone here is too complacent and ignorant. So they breed abominations. Freaks.
I remember that old bastard instigator — a vile man who shouted that all the Marked were accomplices of the Hollows and the like. Poor Honoka-san — she was almost stoned when she came asking for Tetsu to be healed. And that bastard incited the others. Fortunately, the shinigami appeared and calmed the crowd, but the agitator ran away. What a nasty person. I saw him a couple of times. A real jerk. He looks like a European; of course, that's not uncommon here. Andy is a decent guy, but Hollow bit off his leg. They treated him, but now he has no life left.
Well — never mind. I'm vindictive. When I become a shinigami, I'll walk down that bastard's spine. I'm patient. It's a pity this isn't an isolated case. Such superstitions have always existed, but this man picked them up and spread them in our district.
But why? I can't understand it.
I found this settlement by accident.
I was training in the forest and grew exhausted. Andy-san helped me then. He gave me food and water, even though he had almost nothing left himself. I learned about them and started helping as much as I could — bringing food, getting medicine, finding other things. It's not hard for me: I have some money, and I like helping people.
It's so unfair. They aren't to blame for their misfortunes, but others don't understand that.
Sigh.