ISEKAI? More like I See Crap! -
Chapter 248: Memories of Hardship ( 248 )
Chapter 248: Memories of Hardship ( 248 )
The carriage came to a stop in front of Macia Town’s most popular buffet restaurant.
Hazuki climbed down first, stretching with a lazy groan.
"Alright, kids. Out. Follow me."
The children excitedly filed out of the carriage behind Miss Kisha, eyes sparkling again as the smell of grilled meat and fresh bread reached their noses.
Hazuki stepped through the entrance.
A neatly dressed beastkin receptionist, ears perked, immediately stepped forward with a professional smile.
"Welcome to Hearth & Plate Buffet! Do you have a reservation, sir?"
Hazuki gave a soft smile and reached into his pocket.
With a small clink, he placed his silver adventurer card on the counter.
"Can I get a reservation now?"
He added with a calm tone, "Please? Sorry to bother."
The receptionist blinked.
Then her eyes widened as she registered the B+ rank on the plate.
"A-Ah! Wait right here, sir! I’ll get the owner immediately!"
She vanished into the back in a blur of quick footsteps.
The kids all looked up at Hazuki, some whispering.
"Uncle’s cool..."
"Elvia, you saw that? That plate was shiny!"
"He said ’please’ even though he scary..."
"Sir!" the receptionist burst into the kitchen, nearly knocking over a serving tray.
The restaurant owner, a thick-built beastkin with a deep scar across his snout and a chef’s apron tied tightly around his waist, turned with a raised brow.
"Hmm?"
The receptionist was panting lightly, tail flicking from nervousness.
"The human... the black-haired human. He’s in front."
The owner’s eyes widened.
"What? He’s here?"
"Y-Yes! He asked if he can... make a reservation now."
The owner didn’t even blink.
He slammed his carving knife down onto the cutting board and wiped his hands quickly on a clean cloth.
"Don’t just stand there. Guide him inside."
His voice was sharp, authoritative.
"He’s the town’s savior. He gets the whole damn floor if he wants."
The receptionist snapped to attention.
"R-Right away, sir!"
Back at the entrance...
Hazuki was still standing there, hands in his pocket.
The kids were behind him, whispering and looking around the well-lit interior with awe.
The receptionist returned in a rush.
"Mister Hazuki, sir! Please, right this way! The owner is honored to have you. We’ll prepare the largest table at once."
Hazuki blinked, then scratched his cheek.
"Uhh... sure. Thanks."
Ridan snorted. "You’re finally being treated right, huh? Don’t get used to it."
Hazuki tilted his head slightly.
"I can bring these kids inside, right?"
The receptionist nodded quickly, her ears perked high with sincerity.
"Yes, Mister Hazuki. Of course! Please follow me."
Hazuki turned to the group and waved a hand casually.
"Alright, you little goblins. Inside. No drooling until you’re at the table."
"Yaaaay!!"
The kids cheered in unison and rushed forward—tails wagging, ears twitching, eyes shining with pure joy.
Kisha gave a relieved sigh and followed with a gentle smile, ushering them along while making sure none bumped into other guests or staff.
As they passed through the main hall, diners turned their heads—some in surprise, others in hushed curiosity.
A few whispered to each other:
"Is that him?"
"The human... the one from the rift incident?"
"Why’s he with kids...?"
Hazuki ignored it all.
Hands still in his pockets, his posture casual.
Hazuki then turned to the kids with a cheerful voice.
"Alright, brats!! Go pick up your plates and choose any food you want!! Eat until your stomach can’t take it anymore!!"
Yay!! The children cheered, rushing toward the buffet table with excitement. They grabbed their plates eagerly, grabbing all kinds of food—meats, bread, sweets, everything they could carry—and piled it high.
Hazuki stood still near the entrance of the hall, watching the children laugh, shout, and fill their plates with joy. Their smiles were genuine, bright—things only kids who had known hunger and finally tasted safety could wear.
He didn’t say a word. Just watched.
Inside, a small warmth curled in his chest—a strange, tight feeling he couldn’t quite name.
He looked away, his expression dull and unreadable as his mind drifted back to his own past.
It was raining.
The room was dim, lit only by the incense smoke curling toward the ceiling.
He was just a boy, standing stiff in a worn black suit, sleeves too long, shoes too big. Small hands clenched tightly at his sides.
He stood in front of a table, photos of his family smiling softly at him—Father, Mother, Brother, Sister—all framed and glowing faintly.
Each face now memory.
His lip trembled, but he didn’t cry.
His fingers dug into the sleeves of his jacket.
They told him to be strong. So he tried.
But then—
Voices, whispers behind him.
"I can’t raise him! I’ve got three kids of my own!"
"You think I can?! I work overtime every week!"
"I already said I’m not responsible. Someone else should take him."
"He’s just a kid! We can’t keep passing him around like luggage."
"Well, someone better decide. His parents are gone. What do we do now?"
He stood there, frozen.
Alone.
The people who once called themselves family argued over who had to take care of him.
Not who loved him.
Not who wanted him.
Just... who would deal with him.
He remembered the coldness of that day—the feeling of emptiness more than anything else.
Not the funeral. Not the photos.
Just the silence.
And the hollow ache in his chest that never really left.
That time... after the funeral.
With no relatives willing—or able—to take him in right away, Hazuki was placed in a state-run orphanage.
A quiet building on the outskirts of the city.
Crowded. Understaffed. Clean, but distant.
The caretakers did their best.
But with so many children to feed and emotions to manage, there was little room for warmth.
Meals were simple.
Days followed a strict routine.
Nights stretched long and silence heavy.
He stayed there for nearly a year.
No one visited.
Until one day—
His grandparents came.
Old. Tired. But standing tall.
They bowed deeply to the orphanage director and said:
"He’s family. We’ll take him home."
And just like that, Hazuki packed his things—all in one small bag.
He didn’t cry.
Not then.
Not ever.
Back at their house, life was different.
His grandfather was strict, quiet.
A man of routine.
Ex-military, perhaps. He never said much.
His grandmother was gentle, soft-spoken, but her eyes always seemed distant, clouded by years of hardship and loss.
Every meal was plain. Measured.
Rice. Pickles. Sometimes miso soup.
Nothing wasted. No second helpings without permission.
No snacks between meals.
If you were hungry, you drank tea.
Hazuki never complained.
He always finished his plate.
Because food meant care.
Food meant someone still cared enough to feed him.
Even if no one ever said "I love you."
Even if no one hugged him.
Even if the house was always a little too cold in winter.
And now, in this world—
He looked again at the orphan children in Macia Town.
Beastkin. Elf. Human. It didn’t matter.
He saw something of himself in all of them.
And maybe that’s why he brought them here.
Why he let them cling to him, laugh beside him, demand his attention and time.
He never said it out loud.
But maybe—
Just maybe—
He was trying to make sure they’d never feel what he once did.
That hollow space inside a too-large suit...
The silence of being unwanted.
( End Of Chapter )
If you find any errors (non-standard content, ads redirect, broken links, etc..), Please let us know so we can fix it as soon as possible.
Report