Chapter 50 – Something Worth Holding Onto
He ate lunch with a strange, unsettled feeling.
Bullet finished three full servings before he finally set down his utensils. It was the most delicious—and the most satisfying—meal he had ever had.
In the cafeteria, only the children stared at him with wide-eyed curiosity, wondering how he could eat so much.
Some of the young men and women looked at him with a kind of envy. Others simply watched with interest.
But not a single person gazed at him with malice.
It was just like the first time he'd stepped into the training camp for child soldiers—everyone had been curious about how he was so strong.
That memory made Bullet uneasy and afraid.
He didn't want things to end up the same way again.
He only wanted to be an ordinary tool—nothing more.
If he could just stay quietly in a place like this, watching time flow by without being noticed, that alone would be enough for him.
"Here—have some cola," Tocos said gently, handing him a bottle.
Bullet reached out and took it, without saying thanks or exchanging any pleasantries. He had learned long ago that you simply accepted what others gave you.
In the orphanage, that was how you survived—otherwise, even the smallest kindness would slip through your fingers.
He clumsily twisted off the cap. The fizz rose up in a gentle surge, spilling bubbles across his rough hand.
Glug, glug, glug…
He drained the bottle in a single breath.
Wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, Bullet neatly set the empty bottle and food tray in order. Then he sat down beside Tocos in silence.
His quiet posture seemed to say: And now what?
Tocos felt a flicker of awkwardness.
There really wasn't any conversation. Everything was one-sided, like he was demonstrating procedures to a piece of machinery.
Even after more than thirty years as a steward, he still felt exhausted in moments like this.
But he didn't complain.
He pitied Bullet for everything the boy had been through. He understood why he behaved this way now.
If Bullet's talent had been a little less remarkable, perhaps Lord Ross would have taken him in from the very start—just like that child Sakazuki.
Tocos didn't blame Ross.
Without Ross, Bullet likely would have died before long anyway. Even if some stroke of luck had kept him alive, his life would have been nothing but pain and confusion—a cycle of clinging to people or things, again and again, until he finally broke apart.
"Ah…let's go," Tocos sighed.
"There really isn't much here worth explaining. I'll just walk you around a bit. We'll talk as we go."
He stood up. Bullet followed without a word.
Soon, they left the cafeteria and arrived at the only open space in the central district—a training ground meant for ordinary children.
By this time of day, plenty of kids were here, practicing on their own.
Only a few instructors—members of the Nasdaq family—were watching over them.
Formal lessons were held in the morning. The afternoons were free time.
Bullet looked at the children.
It felt as if he were seeing a vision of himself and his old comrades.
Except the difference between their lives and his own could not have been greater.
…
"This is the chapel," Tocos continued.
"Lord Ross originally planned to call it an academy, but in the end he changed it back. After all, very few children actually learned much here—they were usually more interested in playing around."
This chapel was the place that had forcibly restrained Bullet for those two tense seconds earlier.
It wasn't a large space. Even now, fewer than a third of the seats were occupied.
Some of the children were laughing and making noise. Others were clustered in discussion. A few sat alone, absorbed in their own quiet study.
To Bullet, all of it stirred only a sense of envy.
As for yearning? He felt unworthy even to imagine it.
…
"This is the little garden," Tocos said. "The flowers and plants here have all been cultivated and tended voluntarily by members of the family. The garden was here before the settlement was even built, and it's been maintained ever since. Would you like to try taking care of them yourself?"
In the northwest corner of the settlement, a small patch of earth had been preserved. It was the only place where the ground wasn't paved in pale cloudstone. Instead, a narrow path of greenish flagstones wound through the beds of plants.
Taking the watering can and fertilizer Tocos handed him, Bullet carefully mimicked his motions.
He tended the vibrant blossoms and the unusual, beautiful plants with a clumsy sort of reverence.
There was even a shy plant whose leaves folded away at a touch. Bullet played with it for a long time, gently brushing its fronds again and again. He never grew tired of it.
Eventually, as if suddenly reminded of something, he stopped, returned to Tocos's side, and stood in silence, waiting.
But inwardly, he had already decided: whenever he had free time, he would come back here to look after these plants. He liked the feeling it gave him.
…
It was nearly seven in the evening when Tocos finally completed the tour of the central district, fulfilling his duty for the day.
They ended up back where they had started.
Click.
Tocos unlocked the door and led Bullet inside.
"This will be your room," Tocos said. "Lord Ross arranged it for you. From now on, you can rest here. Tomorrow morning after breakfast, just go to Ross Castle and wait."
He handed Bullet a thick stack of Beli.
"Here—take this. From now on, this is your own time. You can use the money however you like. Try…just try to be a little kinder to yourself."
He gave Bullet's shoulder a gentle pat, smiled, and left the room.
Bullet watched his departing back for a long time. Only when the door was fully shut did he look down at the money in his hands.
This was the first time he had ever touched Beli.
Before, he'd only occasionally seen soldiers pull it out to brag to each other—salaries, they'd called it, or rewards.
He set the stack of bills neatly on the table.
He had no plans to spend any of it. He simply wanted to keep it.
There was nothing he wanted right now. The only thing that interested him was tending the garden—and playing with that shy little plant.
Besides, Tocos had been so kind to him.
These Beli felt like a medal that Douglas Gray might have awarded him—something precious, something worth preserving.
In the past, he'd abandoned everything.
Even if all he'd ever had was a single medal.
Now, when he still hadn't found any goal or purpose worth pursuing, he thought he should at least keep whatever small things he wanted to remember.
He rose, stepped outside, and pulled the door shut behind him.
He hung the key carefully on the handle.
Then, retracing the path in his memory, he walked toward the little garden.
Free time…was something to cherish.
"…Hm? Hey there, big guy. You finally decided to come out of that place?"
Little Mona was floating in the air, her black-and-red lolita dress fluttering around her. She looked strikingly beautiful.
But Bullet ignored her completely.
He walked straight to the shy plant, crouched down, and reached out to gently tease its delicate leaves.
Seeing he wasn't even going to answer, Mona puffed up her cheeks, sulking.
It was the first time she'd met someone this dull—more boring even than all those brothers of hers who only knew how to fight.
She'd thought maybe he would be another big brother like Sakazuki—someone who could play with her.
Honestly… When was Big Brother Sakazuki coming back anyway? Without him watching over her, even blowing up sea kings wasn't as much fun.
"Whatever. Let's at least get acquainted. My name's Mona. What's yours, big guy?"
"…Bullet."
He answered in a single flat word, then fell silent again.