六十路熟妇japanese

The knocking, no, the pounding on the door, came from downstairs, at the tavern's front door, which was repeatedly pounded so hard that it would disturb anyone who heard it, especially for Allen who had a sharper sense than anyone else.

"Mr. Rodion! Mr. Rodion! Anybody! Is anyone inside?!" he shouted. It was like a little boy's voice.

At first Allen ignored it, just lying there looking at the sky from his bedroom window. But the noise continued for two minutes.

"MR. RODION! ARE YOU IN THERE?! HEEEY! ANYONE!!!"

'Are Master and Susan not in the tavern today?' Allen thought.

Since the boy hadn't left and kept pounding the door, Allen decided to come out of his room and tell him that no one was home.

'I have to cover my head.'

Allen's hair was back to normal, so he had to wear something to hide it. He put on a white cloth to cover all his hair.

Once he went downstairs and opened the door, there was a child around Susan's age. He was wearing some kind of dull, long red robe that was dirty and worn out.

"If you were inside, you should have answered!" the boy said irritably.

"Umm... yes, sorry." Allen replied.

Suddenly, the boy's gaze shifted to Allen's face, his expression growing serious. Normally, it wouldn't have been out of the ordinary for others to stare at Allen due to his unique hair. However, Allen had covered his hair with a cloth this time, rendering it completely invisible. So why was the boy showing such a strange gaze on Allen's face?

"What?" asked Allen.

"Hmm I'm sure you're someone I rarely meet around here. But have we met before? Your face looks familiar."

"Maybe we have," Allen said, lifting the cloth slightly and revealing his black hair. "I used to sell potatoes at the estate and often walk in the marketplace. Maybe you've seen me somewhere there and remembered my face because of my unique hair color," Allen said.

"Oh... yes, perhaps so," he said.

Then he took out a piece of paper from inside his shirt and gave it to Allen,

"I've come to give this letter. From His Grace, Bishop Nicholas Westbrook, to Mr. Rodion."

"Oh well, I'll take it. Master Rodion is currently away; I'll give it to him later," Allen said as he closed the door, but

-PUK

The boy's foot blocked the door from closing.

"What?" asked Allen.

"Is Mr Rodion really not inside?"

Convinced that there was absolutely no one inside, Allen replied

"Yes, he is not here. Don't worry, I'll give it to Master Rodion-"

"Can't it be now?!"

'What's wrong? Why does this kid look so desperate?'

"Well, it can't be helped, he's not inside. So what?"

That boy hesitantly asked, "Are you perhaps Mr Rodion's apprentice or something?"

"Hmm... yes more or less so."

"In that case, can you cook?!"

"I-yes I can."

"Can you come with me to church instead of Mr Rodion?!" he shouted.

"To church? And to cook?"

"Yes!"

Allen didn't want to cook anymore.

Allen was feeling overwhelmed with emotion. For a while now, he has been avoiding cooking altogether, despite the fact that he used to love it. It seemed that every time he tried, all his past failures would come flooding back to him, reminding him of his mistakes and how he had harmed others with his hands. How could he have fun cooking while feeling so guilty?

"I'm sorry-"

"Please! If you're Mr Rodion's apperentice you can read too, right?! Can you at least read the letter first?!"

Allen gave up on the enthusiasm and desperation of the boy in front of him. He opened the letter and read it.

There were a few words that Allen didn't understand, but the conclusion of the letter was to provide 50 servings of food for the orphans in the fire church, which would be paid for by Bishop Nicholas Westbrook.

The boy then explained, "Actually, the church offerings during this water month were very low because everyone was trying to save food. We have only eaten a little for the past twenty days, and now everyone is starving. Tragically, a few children have even died. Luckily Bishop Nicholas arrived at our region's church. Though he didn't offer money to our church, he requested that the cook come directly to the church and prepare food with the children. That is why Bishop Nicholas left this letter for the cook regarding his plan."

'Master really left at a very inopportune moment,' Allen thought.

After the boy shared his heart-wrenching story, he couldn't say no to the boy. The boy and the others were starving and in desperate need of nourishment, and he knew he couldn't turn them away. Despite his own reservations about cooking, he couldn't help but bring the food to the boy and hope that someone else would cook there.

"Alright, I'll be there."

The boy immediately let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks God."

Allen entered the kitchen and got the ingredients to make the soup.

'I hope Mr Rodion wouldn't get angry if I took this all without his concern. Well, this is bishop's order at all, and they will pay, so maybe it is okay,' thought Allen.

The boy also went inside, trying to help.

"I can bring this one," he said, pointing to a small bag of spices.

"That'll help," Allen said as he held up the large bag of potatoes. The boy looked at Allen admiringly and said, 'It's great that you can carry such a big load when you're just a kid.

'This kid talks like he's an adult.'

Then they started going to church together.

On the way, the boy asked, "What's your name? How did you become an apprentice of the cook? And what about your hair color? Why is it black?"

"My name is Allen; my black hair is because I'm an other-worlder; I became Master Rodion's apprentice because he picked me up."

"Other-worlder?"

"That's what people from other worlds are called."

"Oh... yes, like the heroes in the holy book? You also have the same name as one of them."

"Yes, like that, but I am not the hero. We only share the same name."

"Of course you are. There is no way a hero is someone who cooks in this small region."

'What the hell… why does this boy react differently with Pascoe?'

Realizing that the situation had become silent and awkward, Allen asked back,

"How about you?"

"What?"

"Your name and how you came to work at the church."

The boy, with a sad face, answered,

"My name is Vash. I don't work at the church, but I'm part of the church orphanage."

"Orphanage? What is that?"

The child was surprised. "Seriously? You don't know the orphanage?"

"Yes, I am an other-worlder after all," Allen lied and felt guilty.

"An orphanage is where the church houses children who don't have parents."

Puzzled, Allen asked, "No parents? Do children like that even exist? As far as I know, all humans are born from their mother's belly."

"Of course, they are born from their mother's belly! Let me finish my sentence.

The children in the orphanage are children who grew up without parents."

"Growing up without parents..."

"That's right, for example, if both parents died when they were young, the children who have no family will be placed in the orphanage and taken care of by the church to become foster priests."

"I see... are your parents dead too?" Allen asked  with a flat face.

Vash's eyes widened in surprise because it was the first time he had met someone who bluntly asked that question in front of the people living in the orphanage,

"That's right, my parents are dead. The last time I had my mother, she died while giving birth to my little sister. Now me and my baby sister live in the church," Vash said sadly.

Seeing Vash's face made Allen feel sorry for asking him. After hearing his story, Allen knew why Vash could be so desperate that he had to bang on the tavern door.

An orphanage is a residential institution for children created by the church. It is specialized only for taking care of children who no longer have parents.

The children who lived in the orphanage would later become foster priests once they had been baptized, so those who lived in the orphanage were only children under the age of 12.

As soon as they arrived at the church, Vash led Allen to the orphanage, which was tucked away at the back of the church compound. The orphanage's design was centered around a vast field, with rooms built all around it. Curiosity took hold of Allen, and he peeked through the window of one of the rooms. Inside, he could see nothing but wooden walls and dirty mats strewn across the floor, on which the children slept. The sight brought back a flood of memories for Allen, as he had once been locked up in a room like that in Barkaley prison.