The back room is tiny.
A single bed pushed against one wall, neatly made with a faded blanket. A small trunk at the foot holds what you assume are her belongings. A simple wooden chair sits beside a window that overlooks the street. That's it. No decorations, no personal touches, just the bare minimum needed for survival.
This is where a goddess lives.
The thought makes your throat tight.
"Okay!" Hestia turns to you, bouncing slightly on her heels. "So, um, I need you to lie down. Face down. And, uh—" She gestures vaguely at your hoodie. "You'll need to remove your shirt. The blessing goes on your back."
You freeze. "What?"
"The blessing!" She says it like it's obvious. "The Falna—that's what we call it—manifests on your back. I need to access your bare skin to inscribe it. It doesn't hurt! I promise! It's actually kind of warm and tingly and—" She stops, seeming to realize how this sounds. Her face flushes. "I've done this before! Well, once. But I know what I'm doing!"
Once. She's done this exactly once.
You should probably be more concerned about that. But you've already committed, and backing out now would break something in her that you're not willing to break.
"Okay," you say. "Okay. Just—turn around for a second?"
Hestia spins to face the wall, and you quickly pull off your hoodie and t-shirt. The air is cool against your skin. You lie face-down on the bed, trying not to think about how vulnerable this feels.
"Ready," you say.
The mattress dips as Hestia kneels beside you. Her hand touches your back—fingers small and warm—and you flinch.
"Sorry," she murmurs. "I'll be quick. This is..." She trails off, and when she speaks again, her voice is softer. "This is an honor, you know. For both of us. The bond between god and child is sacred. Once I give you my blessing, we're connected. Always."
Permanent.
That word should scare you. Maybe it does. But there's something comforting about it too. Permanence connection. In a world where everything feels unstable and wrong, the idea of something permanent is almost appealing.
"I'm ready," you say again.
Hestia's finger begins to trace patterns across your back. The sensation is strange—not quite tickling, not quite burning. Warm, she'd said. She was right. Heat spreads across your skin, following the path of her finger. It feels like sunlight concentrated into lines, like something fundamental inside you is being... awakened.
"Status," Hestia whispers.
The warmth intensifies, then fades. You can feel something now—a presence, that wasn't there before. Like you've gained an extra sense you didn't know was missing.
Hestia goes quiet.
The silence stretches. You're about to ask if something's wrong when she finally speaks.
"Your status is... unusual."
Your stomach drops. "Unusual how? Is something wrong?"
"No! Nothing's wrong!" She says it quickly, reassuring. "It's just—your base stats are very low. Which is completely normal for someone who just received a blessing! Everyone starts at zero. But there's something else." She pauses, and you can hear the frown in her voice. "You have a skill. Already."
"Is that bad?"
"No, it's—it's actually really rare. Most people don't develop skills until after they've gained experience. Sometimes not for years. But you have one right from the start." Her finger traces across your back again, reading whatever's written there. "It's called 'Outsider's Instinct.'"
The name sends a chill through you. Outsider.
"What does it do?"
"Let me see..." She's quiet for a moment, reading. "It enhances your perception of danger and accelerates your learning of combat techniques. Basically, it'll help you sense threats before they reach you, and you'll pick up fighting skills faster than normal."
Because I'm an outsider. Because I don't belong here.
The skill is literally branded into your back as a reminder that you're not from this world. That you're fundamentally different from everyone else.
You're not sure how to feel about that.
"Is it good?" you ask.
"It's very good," Hestia says firmly. "Especially for a beginner. Most new adventurers struggle with reading monster movements. This will give you an edge." She removes her hand from your back, and immediately you feel the absence of warmth. "Okay, I'm done. You can sit up."
You do, pulling your shirt back on while Hestia moves to the small trunk. She pulls out a piece of paper and a pen, then carefully transcribes what she saw on your back.
When she hands you the paper, you stare at it.
WAKANABE TANAKI Level 1
Strength: 0 Defense: 0 Dexterity: 0 Agility: 0 Magic: 0
Skills: Outsider's Instinct: Heightened perception of danger. Accelerated learning of combat techniques.
Zeros. Everything is at zero.
"Don't look so discouraged!" Hestia sits beside you, and her enthusiasm is back in full force. "Everyone starts there. The Falna records your growth. As you gain experience—fight monsters, train, push yourself—these numbers will increase. That's how it works! You get stronger by gaining experience , and the blessing tracks it all."
"So I really am starting from nothing," you say.
"You're starting from potential," Hestia corrects. She reaches out and takes your hand, squeezing it. "That's what matters. You have potential, and you have me. We're going to build something amazing together. I know we will."
Her confidence is infectious. Despite everything—despite the zeros on your status sheet, despite being trapped in a world you don't understand, despite having no idea what you're doing—you find yourself believing her.
Or maybe you just want to believe her.
"So what now?" you ask.
Hestia's face lights up. "Now we celebrate! I'll make us dinner—it'll be simple because money's tight, but I promise it'll be good! And tomorrow—" She counts on her fingers. "Tomorrow we'll figure out equipment. You'll need a weapon, basic armor, maybe a bag for carrying magic stones. Then you can start training! Oh, and you'll need to register with the Guild. There's paperwork involved, but it's not too bad. And then—"
"Hestia," you interrupt gently. "Where am I sleeping tonight?"
She stops mid-sentence, blinking. Then her face goes red.
"Oh. Right. Um." She looks around the tiny room—at the single bed, the lack of space, the complete absence of guest accommodations. "I... didn't think that far ahead."
Despite everything, you laugh. It's not a happy laugh, exactly, but it's genuine. "It's fine. I can sleep on the floor—"
"Absolutely not!" Hestia jumps to her feet. "You're not sleeping on the floor! You're my first child—my only child—and I will not have you sleeping on cold stone!" She chews her lip, thinking. "The pews in the main hall are uncomfortable, but I have extra blankets. I can make you a proper bed out there. It's not ideal, but it's better than—"
"Hestia," you say again. "It's fine. Really. A blanket and a pew sounds like paradise compared to sleeping on a bench in the city square, which was my backup plan."
She looks horrified. "You were going to sleep outside?"
"I didn't have anywhere else to go."
For a long moment, Hestia just stares at you. Then, before you can react, she throws her arms around you in a fierce hug.
"You have somewhere now," she says, voice muffled against your chest. "You have a home. With me. For as long as you need it."
Your throat tightens. You can't remember the last time someone hugged you like this—like they genuinely cared whether you lived or died.
Carefully, you hug her back.
"Thank you," you whisper.
She squeezes tighter. "No. Thank you. For giving me a chance. For choosing me."
Dinner is simple—bread, cheese, and some kind of stew that's mostly vegetables with tiny chunks of meat. Hestia apologizes three times for how basic it is, but you tell her honestly that it's the best meal you've had in days.
Because it is.
Not because of the food itself, but because you're sitting across from someone who wants you here. Who's happy you exist. Who's already planning your future together like it's a given that you'll succeed.
After dinner, and after a long agurment, you finally gave up and end up sleeping with hestia in the same bed .
You lie there in the darkness, listening to Hestia move around in the bed making your heart beat it was your first time sleeping with a girl " glup " you swallow your . an the you slap your cheeks , and think about everything that's happened today.
This morning—was it this morning? It feels like years ago—you were in your normal life. Going through the motions. Half-listening to your friend talk about anime you'd never watch.
Now you're in a world with gods and monsters, you have literal RPG stats written on your back, and you've committed yourself to a goddess who lives in poverty and believes in you despite having every reason not to.
This is insane.
But maybe insane is okay.
Maybe insane is better than being alone.
You close your eyes and let exhaustion pull you under, and for the first time since you arrived in this impossible world, you don't dream of home.
You dream of a church filled with people.
And a goddess who's smiling.