A Small Sprout Takes Root

As soon as the physician arrived, I stepped back from the bedside. The head maid, who had burst in with the servants from the corridor, bustled about following the doctor’s instructions. The physician examined Yua’s wounds with tireless focus. The room filled with the sharp scent of antiseptic, Yua’s faint whimpers, and the head maid’s urgent commands.

When they peeled away the torn clothing, a deep gash—deep enough to reveal bone—marred her thin leg. Her skin felt icy to the touch. Just my luck. Another unexpected “emergency” crashing into my life. That damn meddlesome streak of mine… Regret? Yeah, I won’t lie—I did feel some. But once you’ve come this far, cleaning up the mess is the bare minimum a person should do. That cursed word, responsibility, had once again clamped around my ankle.

Yua curled into herself in fear, but the physician’s hands were skilled and gentle. I never left her side. She kept glancing at me with anxious eyes, and each time I gave her a small nod that said it’s okay. I handed her back the notebook she had been clutching earlier.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

The letters were written with trembling effort. Her handwriting still looked precarious.

“Just hold on a little longer. You’ll feel better soon.”

Soon? In this rotten world, there was nothing less trustworthy than the word “soon.” Still, it was the only thing I could say right now. I couldn’t turn away from those tiny, trembling eyes.

She seemed to want nothing more than for me not to disappear.

Once the treatment ended, the physician prescribed several medicines and stressed that she needed absolute rest for the next few days. The head maid summoned other maids so Yua could change into clean clothes, and I had no choice but to step outside for a while.

The moment I left the room, I felt the servants’ gazes boring into my back. I caught faint whispers. The rumors had probably already started. Mockery and contempt over what ridiculous stunt I’d pulled this time. It was so familiar it had become tiresome.

How much time had passed? The guest room door opened again and the head maid emerged. Through the gap I could see Yua breathing evenly in sleep. Dressed in soft, pure-white pajamas, she looked far more comfortable than before. The pristine new clothes made her seem like a tender sprout that had shed its dirty shell. A faint hint of color had returned to her gaunt face.

Haah. We’ve made it past one crisis, at least.

That night, I placed a chair beside Yua’s bed and stayed up through the dark hours. The hard seat dug painfully into my backside, nothing like the soft mattress, but I couldn’t bring myself to lie down. I kept watch, terrified that her fever might spike again or that nightmares would torment her. The only sound in the room was the steady rhythm of her small body breathing.

In the pitch-black darkness, I stared at her sleeping face. This is insane. Why am I doing this? I was the one who wanted a normal life. I just wanted to breathe quietly, unnoticed, and fade away. How the hell had I ended up like this…?

When I came back to my senses, a wave of regret suddenly crashed over me. Every so often Yua would wake, and I would feed her warm water and a few spoonfuls of thin porridge. The fierce wariness that once filled her eyes had vanished. In its place lingered deep exhaustion and something like relief.

Yeah… at the very least, my misfortune had become a safe haven for this child. That was enough, wasn’t it?

I felt disgusted with myself for growing so weak, yet in the face of her fragile breathing, I crumbled helplessly. It felt as if the great current of my life had been swept into an unstoppable wave because of this tiny girl.

The next morning, while I was catching a brief nap, the guest room door opened quietly. Warm sunlight flooded the space. Standing in the doorway was Mother.

She looked ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠back and forth between my haggard face and Yua, who still hadn’t stirred. The maids silently set down porridge and tea. A gentle floral scent drifted through the morning air.

“Leo, it looks like you didn’t sleep a wink last night.”

Mother’s voice was as soft and kind as ever. For some reason, that gentleness always stirred guilt and discomfort in me. Even within warmth, I felt unease. That had been the nature of our relationship my entire life. Her kindness constantly reminded me of the weight of responsibility I was supposed to carry.

“I’m fine, Mother. It’s just that Yua still seems to be struggling…”

“Don’t pay too much mind to what your father said last night. I understand how you feel.”

Mother approached the bed and gently placed her hand on Yua’s forehead. The fever that had burned through the night seemed to have eased a little. Yua let out a sleepy groan, then sank back into deep slumber.

Mother pulled up a chair and sat beside me. Then she spoke calmly.

“This child… you named her ‘Yua’?”

“Yes. She didn’t have a name, so…”

At my answer, Mother gave a faint smile. It held both understanding and a mysterious depth.

“I’ve welcomed many guests at Heavenfield over the years, but this is the first time the young master himself carried one in late at night. And a child who cannot speak, at that.”

She gazed quietly at Yua’s face. Her eyes held no coldness—only deep compassion and warmth.

“Your father was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠angry last night, but it wasn’t only because of family honor. In these turbulent times, he must have worried that his only son—the heir of a noble house—would get tangled up in something unnecessary.”

She continued with what sounded almost like a sigh. Typical excuse. Just a polished justification to hide his own shame and inconvenient truths. Father had always interpreted the world through his own narrow lens. He even considered having expectations of me inefficient. To a man like that, my meddling must have seemed like a needless error.

Needless error! The anger and contempt packed into those words were something I would never forget in this lifetime. When would I finally be free of him?

“Still, you wanted to protect this child in your own way… and I respect that. Above all, I saw profound sorrow in her eyes. You must have seen it too.”

Her gaze returned to me.

“Leo. No matter what you do, if it is just, I will trust you. If your wish is to keep this child in this mansion, I will no longer oppose it.”

I looked at her in shock. Despite Father’s fierce opposition, Mother was willing to accept Yua. This went beyond simply protecting the girl—it could bring a massive shift to my own standing within the Heavenfield family.

Change? The word I hated most. Yet this time, it felt different. Perhaps this was the beginning of a change I actually wanted. A small possibility that had arrived at an unexpected moment.

“Mother… do you truly mean that?”

“Of course. But there is one condition. From now on, this child will be your responsibility. Since you brought her into this house, you must look after her so that she can live safely and peacefully.”

“Yes! Of course!”

I nodded, overcome with emotion. Wait… damn it. Of course? Where exactly? Now I had this small burden added to my back. Not a load forced upon me, but one I had chosen. It was a strange feeling. My shoulders grew heavier, yet at the same time an unfamiliar sense of duty and subtle joy bloomed inside me.

It was a path that led further from my goal of living an ordinary life, but I didn’t think I would ever regret this choice. At least this decision had been made by my own will. No matter who pointed at me and called me “incompetent,” I felt a surge of determination that I could at least succeed at taking responsibility for this child.

After confirming my resolve, Mother quietly rose from her seat.

“Then I’ll tell the head maid to prepare a new room and all the necessary items for Yua. From now on, this place will be a safe home for her as well.”

Mother’s warm hand gently stroked my hair. The touch felt like it was melting a heart that had been frozen for a long time. The desire to throw everything away eased, if only for a moment, beneath that gentle warmth.

Now I had neither excuse nor reason to leave this place. My feet were completely tied.

In the days that followed, Yua received Leo’s devoted care. Whenever she woke, he would hand her the notebook and ask if anywhere hurt. Yua answered with short words: Hungry. Sleepy. Thank you. They were simple phrases, yet they slowly built a faint but solid bond between the two.

Yua’s wounds gradually healed. Color slowly returned to her once-pale face. The small groans that had filled the nights grew rarer. Little by little, the child took root deeply inside Leo’s “territory of responsibility.” It was an irreversible change.

Complaints still ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠slipped out, but watching her improve bit by bit became an unexpected reward. It felt as if Leo was truly creating something in this world for the first time.

Following Mother’s orders, Yua began receiving care as an official member of the Heavenfield family. Maids and servants were assigned exclusively to her. New clothes and every necessity were prepared in abundance. After warm baths and nutritious meals every day, Yua transformed beyond recognition. Like a wilted plant finally given water, she began to bloom with life.

Was I really capable of creating “growth” like this? It was an unfamiliar sense of accomplishment. This feeling carried a richer hue than any achievement from my previous life.

Mother occasionally visited Yua’s room to spend time with her. She would quietly read books aloud or show her picture books. At first Yua was awkward and anxious, but over time she slowly opened her heart to Mother’s warm touch and care.

And I, watching her, felt a strange sense of relief and pride. I had never imagined my life—which had longed for an ordinary existence—would flow in such a special direction. Yet somehow, it brought a sense of fulfillment I had never known in my rigid past.

Perhaps what I had truly wanted amid all these hardships was a small proof that even the “incompetent” me, whom no one expected anything from, could achieve something. And that proof had come back to me not as pain, but as this child’s smile. It was a far more powerful fulfillment than I had expected.

The word “responsibility,” which had once disgusted me, was slowly transforming into something strangely attractive.

---

Several more days passed.

Yua was no longer the trembling, skeletal child I had first met. Thanks to Mother’s devoted care and my steady nursing, life had returned to her face. Her wounds had almost fully healed, and a faint peach-colored flush now touched her once-bloodless cheeks. Most noticeably, the thick anxiety and wariness that had once filled her eyes had faded considerably.

The terrible vigilance I had first seen in her gaze had grown faint. In its place, something else was taking root. Relief. Perhaps… even trust. In a world that had only ever given me distrust, this was a strange new sensation.

After finishing lunch, I found Yua sitting on a sunny bench in a quiet corner of the garden, quietly reading a book. She must have heard my footsteps, because she turned her head to look at me. She no longer flinched or shrank away.

“Yua, is it comfortable sitting here?”

When I approached, Yua gave a small nod. The notebook in her hands held a short message.

“Are you sleeping well these days? You seem to be eating properly too.”

When I sat beside her, Yua opened the notebook again.

“Thanks to me? It’s because you endured so well. You’re completely different from when I first saw you. You finally look like you’re actually living.”

I chuckled and teased her. A very faint smile appeared at the corner of Yua’s mouth. It was so small and precious that my heart warmed without meaning to.

She picked up the pen again.

I took the notebook and paused for a moment. It was a short, plain sentence, yet it carried her sincerity completely. A strange, fuzzy warmth bloomed in my chest.

Once again an unexpected sense of responsibility came over me—but this time it was accompanied by pride. Yeah… the fact that someone needed me. I had never known in my previous life that such a simple thing could move my heart so deeply.

Maybe the “ordinariness” I had longed for had been hidden inside moments like this. It was blossoming within this child’s smile.

“Haha, that’s right. If I hadn’t been there, who would have brought you here? But… aren’t you bored? Doesn’t staying in your room all day feel stuffy?”

When I asked quietly, Yua shook her head slightly and held out the notebook.

“Books? What kind are you reading? There probably isn’t a single book missing from the library here. The Heavenfield ducal library is better than most university collections. Want me to pick out some interesting ones for you?”

Yua carefully mentioned Mother.

“Ah, Mother? Looks like you’ve grown close to her. That’s good. She really is a kind person.”

Yua turned the page and wrote again.

“Yeah. Mother really is a warm person. You seem more at ease now too. But… do you plan to stay here from now on? Is there anywhere else you’d like to go?”

I asked carefully, wanting to know if Yua truly wished to remain in the mansion or if she had other dreams. She thought for a moment, then wrote clearly.

To a stranger with no connection to her, the one who had given the name “Yua” to a girl who had none, this child was showing a small but certain attachment. In that moment I realized I was the only existence in the world she could lean on.

There was no running away now. Not in front of this small child’s pure trust.

This was the true beginning of “solo parenting.” My peace had now been mortgaged forever. Strangely, though, that future didn’t feel horrifying. Instead, it swelled with tiny anticipation.

A vague hope that through this child I might find something of true meaning in this world.

I smiled faintly and carefully stroked her hair. Yua didn’t flinch; she quietly accepted the touch.

“Really? I’m glad. I feel comfortable and happy having you here too. Then it’s settled. From now on, just live comfortably. Understood?”

I gave her a warm smile. Even as my shoulders grew heavier, an indescribable sense of fulfillment rose within me. To the me of my previous life who had wanted only an ordinary existence, my current self might look grotesque. Yet Yua’s small hands and eyes made me feel like I had become part of this world once more.

I was no longer a lonely outsider. At least not to this child.

And perhaps the new fate given to her felt like a grand omen that it would begin through me. That this “useless” existence I had tried to discard now held the power to move someone else’s destiny.