I Picked Up the Abandoned Villainess
Following the crisp scent of pine needles through the biting cold air, I reached the entrance to the Slum Alley. I turned my frozen gaze to the watch on my wrist. I wasn't quite late... I didn't think so, anyway.
On days like this with such foul weather, this isolated town easily cut itself off from the world. Trudging through snow piled up past my ankles wasn't easy by any means. But I couldn't just complain about it endlessly. I knew all too well that snow removal was a luxury these residents couldn't afford.
Excusing myself from my promise because of the weather wasn't an option for me either.
"Doctor! Over here!"
In the distance, a mother and her daughter spotted me and waved. On a day like this, only those who needed regular checkups would be out and about. At least my trip hadn't been in vain.
The two greeted me with wide smiles.
"Doctor...! You came today too."
"I promised, didn't I? I have to keep my word to my patients."
"It must have been tough getting here. You didn't have to come in this weather. It's volunteer work, after all. If you got hurt... we'd feel terrible..."
"Like I always say, just think of it as a house call. I'm getting paid for it, right? Can't really call it volunteering if money's changing hands."
I joked, jingling the coin pouch. The consultation fee here was always the same—a single coin not even enough to buy a pack of gum. It didn't cover treatment costs, let alone medicine, but that was never the point anyway.
"Come on, it's cold out here. Let's head inside."
I was just about to step into their rundown shack with the mother and daughter when—
"...?"
It happened in an instant. Less "discovered" and more like our eyes just happened to meet by chance.
There was an unfamiliar face at the edge of the alley. Worn oak barrels, wooden crates, and trash heaps were commonplace around here. It was a slum, after all. But huddled among them, sheltering from the wind, was a child—and that wasn't so common.
At first, I mistook her for a discarded doll or a pile of rags. If I hadn't been scanning the surroundings while following the mother and daughter, I might have walked right past without noticing. Her presence was so faint, I wasn't even sure if she was breathing.
I flinched and glanced her way. A tiny girl. If I borrowed memories from my past life, she looked about old enough to have just started elementary school.
Gaunt and filthy, with dirt-caked hair. Peeking through her tattered clothes were festering wounds. Her breaths came in ragged, barely-there gasps, hanging on by a thread.
"Who's that kid?"
The mother and daughter exchanged uneasy looks at my question.
"She showed up around here out of nowhere a couple days ago. ...She looks so young. No idea how she ended up in a rough place like this..."
"Do the others know anything?"
"No... She runs off if anyone gets too close. She won't respond no matter what you say, just stays frozen there. And... she's holding a knife..."
Looking closer, as the woman said, there was a glint of metal in the girl's hand. A small blade.
Of course. Not many would readily approach a mysterious girl clutching a dagger. Especially not in a slum where folks scraped by one day at a time. Surviving alone here as a kid was a miracle in itself.
"We were worried she'd die like that, so we let her sleep inside at night and shared a little food. But she could barely eat before vomiting it all up. During the day, she always tries to go back outside."
"You helped her first. That couldn't have been easy."
"We're always the ones receiving help from you, Doctor. We have to give back what we've gotten."
"...I'll take a look first."
I approached the girl slowly. Her breaths were so faint, like they might flicker out any second. They'd said she ran if you got too close, though she didn't look like she had the strength left for that.
I kept my distance, snapping my fingers first to gauge her reaction.
"Hey. Can you hear me?"
"…………."
No response. Her breathing was shallow. Pulse weak. Body temperature at its limit. Without those relatively new gloves and blanket, she'd have lost consciousness to hypothermia long ago.
I mentally ran through what needed doing while keeping up a steady stream of talk to hold onto her awareness.
"What's your name?"
"…………."
"Can you tell me where you're from?"
"…………."
These weren't questions I expected answers to—just words to keep her conscious. I inched closer, ever so slowly. And when I finally reached arm's length, I froze.
It was the clothes she wore.
Not just any orphan, then...
High-end stuff. The kind you'd call designer. The fabric was ragged, but it looked more like damage from a short time in harsh conditions than years of wear. Hard to believe she'd just found or stolen perfectly fitted clothes off the street.
Abandoned in an alley wearing something that expensive... Wherever she came from, it didn't feel good. Questions swirled, but instinct told me not to pry. Not yet.
...Explained the heavy wariness, at least. She must have sensed my gaze lingering; fear deepened in her eyes.
I barely managed to reassure her.
"It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you."
"…………."
Her stare stayed cold.
"I want to help you."
"…………."
"You'll freeze if you stay out here."
"…………."
She shook her head, eyes full of distrust. It was a firm refusal, the kind that might have shoved me away if she'd had any strength left.
Not many reasons for a kid in extremis to reject a helping hand. Like knowing her status would draw the wrong kind of attention.
"Yeah, I get it. You can't go trailing after some random uncle like me."
I kept it light while scrutinizing her condition. No time to waste. I knew delay could be fatal.
Wary eyes. Exhausted as she seemed, the knife in her hand still gleamed sharp. In her panic, she swung the dagger feebly—and I caught it with my bare hand.
"…!"
Blood welled from where the blade bit into my palm. She looked more stunned than I expected, stumbling back in shock.
I shrugged off my overcoat and scarf, draping them over her.
"Pretty warm, huh?"
"…………."
"Must be freezing out here alone."
"………………."
I figured I'd have to rely on her fading consciousness.
"I run a pharmacy a bit farther out in the city. Got some good stuff—effective, even if it's pricey. I think I can help you."
"………………."
"No need to be so scared."
"………………."
For the first time, her vacant gaze fixed on me. Her breaths grew shallower. Her eyes, dimming, seemed to ask:
Can I really trust you?
Her face showed utter exhaustion, an expression bereft of hope. More desperation than expectation—like clutching at the last straw before giving up.
"……."
I nodded silently. And waited, patiently.
Finally, she parted her lips in a voice like breaking thread.
"………… Uh……."
No tears welled in her eyes. Just red, bloodshot rims from severe dehydration. Trembling, she mumbled and clutched my clothes for the first time, gripping tight.
"……M-Ma………"
Exhausted? Fainting? Her awareness was slipping away.
"………… Save… me…"
Even as consciousness fled, her hand clung to me like she'd never let go.
"…I… don't wanna… die… Hate… dying……"
Instead of words, I scooped her up. As I did, the pendant around her neck swung lightly.
She'd been gripping it hidden in her clothes—I hadn't noticed till now. In that fleeting moment, the inscription caught my eye.
"……………."
I flinched despite myself, hesitating.
...So that's why she'd rejected help all this time.
I knew that crest. I'd known it before coming to this world.
The Duke's Family emblem.
I forced myself to play it off and hurried away with her on my back.
"…What do we do, Doctor? Should we find somewhere nearby to get help?"
The worried mother and daughter looked at the girl. I smiled as naturally as I could.
"No need. They'd only be troubled too in this state. No proper facilities around anyway."
"But...? She..."
"It's fine. I'll take her and treat her first. She looks critical."
The child had lost consciousness. Right up to the end, she'd clung to my clothes, refusing to let go.