APIBAGS Chapter 32

"Ranen, it's time to eat. Wake up."

The child rubbed his eyes and sat up. The room looked slightly eerie—not the brightly colored bedding you'd expect for children, but pure white linens stretching uniformly down each side.

"Did you eat while I was sleeping?"

"Yeah, twice."

Mary found it strange that Ranen always asked how many meals had been served since he'd last slept, but she had no reason to hide it, so she answered honestly.

"Thanks, Mary."

Ranen stroked the top of the child's head, which barely reached his shoulder.

The children of Ainoa Orphanage had been trapped down here in this shadowy underground with the director. Without windows it was impossible to know for certain, but assuming three meals a day, at least ten days had passed. If they were only getting two meals a day, considerably longer.

"You've missed two whole meals, so you absolutely have to eat this time. Come on, let's go."

Ranen let Mary lead him to eat.

It was almost funny—being captives and yet being fed quite comfortably—but what could you do when the kidnapper was attentive enough to provide meals every single time? If anything, the food seemed more plentiful than it had been at the orphanage.

They were walking hand in hand when Mary suddenly stopped and tugged at his arm. She clearly had something to say. Ranen bent down, and the child whispered in his ear.

"Ranen, are we going to be sold?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Yulma said so. She said they're feeding us well and keeping us clean because they want to sell us. Is that true?"

What is she saying to the kids. Ranen felt irritated at Yulma, yet couldn't bring himself to deny what Mary said. To his eyes as well, it did look like they were being well-maintained for the purpose of selling.

"I don't know."

"Wow, there are things even Ranen doesn't know!"

That was because, however mature Ranen seemed, he was still only fourteen. The oldest child at the orphanage was sixteen, and once you were older than that, you'd normally leave and go independent, the way Daisy had.

"And just now I heard footsteps from upstairs."

"Footsteps?"

"Yeah. The director said it was probably Troy and told us to shush."

"I see."

Before long they arrived at the room used as a dining hall. The sight of everyone gathered to eat looked like any ordinary scene, yet the total absence of laughter among so many small children made their reality impossible to ignore.

"You're here, Ranen."

"...Yes."

The director pushed a meal toward him. She'd clearly set it aside in advance, waiting for him to arrive. Naturally—he'd missed two meals.

Ranen took the food she offered and, watching her cautiously, asked:

"Director. Are we going to be sold?"

"Oh, child..."

The director sighed in a show of tender sadness, but didn't offer the truth. Ranen, frightened, couldn't bring himself to press her for it.

The meal ended quickly, and the children followed the director back to the sleeping room. Having arrived last, Ranen and Mary—the slowest to finish eating—ended up at the very back of the line.

"Ranen!"

"Yeah?"

"Shh."

Mary's footsteps had been growing slower and slower, and then she steered Ranen off in a different direction. Ranen kept an eye on the person leading the group at the front and quietly followed.

Mary led him to a narrow room. Inside, a man sat in a chair with chains wrapped around his entire body and his eyes covered by a black blindfold.

"Mary. The director told us not to pay attention to this place."

"But this man hasn't been eating."

"Someone must be taking care of him."

"No. I heard him screaming, 'I won't eat!'"

Mary said that was why she'd brought him some food, and rummaged through her clothing pocket. It was a piece of bread with the clear imprints of a small child's fingers still on it. She'd taken it from where it had been sitting atop a bowl of soup, so it was soggy.

If Yulma had seen it, she would have thrown it away calling it disgusting. Mary walked straight toward the man, carrying bread he probably wouldn't eat.

"Mister. Aren't you hungry?"

"...I'm starving, so get lost."

Mary didn't seem wounded by those words at all—she simply pushed the bread into the man's mouth. The man spat it out and dry-heaved.

"It tasted like garbage..."

"My bread..."

Mary picked it back up and tucked it into her clothing pocket. What was she collecting it for? A weapon, maybe? Ranen briefly considered that if the bread hardened in that state, it might actually make a passable one.

Having now attempted to put bread in that mouth once, they could have just gone back—but Mary planted herself firmly beside the man.

"What's your name, mister? I'm Mary. And that's Ranen."

In a dim basement, a man shackled in chains, and she was making introductions. A child's capacity for social warmth was truly beyond comprehension.

Ranen was certain the man wouldn't answer. But after a long pause, the man quietly opened his mouth.

"...Melek."

He'd missed thirty-plus meals. He should have been ravenous. And yet he'd spat the bread back out and was exchanging names as if he had all the time in the world. In their not-entirely-different situation, Ranen thought that was quite cavalier. But he didn't want to say so and make Mary confront what their own situation actually was.

Instead of stopping the two of them, Ranen started keeping watch. They might come looking, realizing the headcount was short.

"Does Melek know why we're here?"

"Yes. Quite well."

"Even Ranen didn't know."

Mary gave Melek an approving thumbs-up for being so smart, then realized his eyes were covered and lowered her hand, a little embarrassed.

Mary studied Melek. He was this clever, so he was probably the noble young master Yulma had talked about. Yulma had said that Melek was tied up so thoroughly because whoever had him couldn't afford for the most valuable commodity to escape before being sold.

"Are we being sold?"

"Something like that."

"Something like that? Then Yulma was wrong?"

Melek had no intention of answering. He tilted his chin in a way that seemed to mean go away, but Mary misread it as come closer. She approached. Melek sighed. It was looking like he'd have to frighten her.

"That Yulma girl has good instincts but a poor imagination."

"What!"

Mary let out the tiniest sound of shock at the revelation that the cleverest, most impressive person in the orphanage could possibly be lacking in something.

"You're going to be eaten by a monster. That's why they're keeping you looking nice and healthy. A good-looking pig makes for better eating, after all."

"Eaten...? A p-pig...?"

Mary imagined herself turned into a pig to be roasted like bacon and eaten by a monster, and shuddered, rubbing both her own shoulders. The contrast was perfectly childlike: being sold had felt unreal and distant. Being eaten made her afraid.

Ranen pulled Mary behind him. Faint footsteps had sounded from the end of the corridor.

"Mary, I hear footsteps. Let's go!"

"But he said we're going to be eaten."

"It's nonsense."

Tears brimming in her eyes, Mary took Ranen's hand. Footsteps? Could it be the monster Melek had talked about, coming to eat them? Moving quietly, staring only at the floor, Mary followed—and promptly walked into Ranen's back.

"Ow. Ranen, why did you stop? I bumped into you."

Pressing her forehead and scolding Ranen, Mary caught sight of the enormous shadow standing just ahead and buried her face against his back, holding her breath. Melek really did tell the truth. Now Ranen and I are going to become bacon.

Trembling, Mary was flooded with relief a moment later at a familiar voice.

"Ranen, Mary. What are you doing here? I've been looking everywhere for you."

The one who had come to find the children was the director.

The director scolded them and held out her hand. Mary would have taken it, if Ranen hadn't pulled her back first. Mary figured Ranen must have been very frightened too, thinking a monster had appeared, and patted him sympathetically. Oh, Ranen—it's not a monster, it's the director.

"Let's go back now."

The director shot a quick glance at Melek, then grabbed the children by their arms and got them out of there.

'Finally, they're gone.'

Melek listened to the sound of the small footsteps fading away and swallowed.

He was genuinely, desperately hungry. He felt like he was going to die of starvation. When the child had pushed her hand into his mouth, he had almost just bitten down and chewed.

'So you won't accept children as offerings? You, a demon? Fine—then I'll arrange things so you have no choice but to accept them.'

It had clearly been deliberate, letting the children roam free. With a presence right beside them that accumulated curiosity just by existing, everyone had been pretending not to be interested while drifting over to speak to Melek anyway.

Melek's chains were all show. They had no binding power whatsoever. His eyes had been covered so he wouldn't register that they were children, and his mouth had been left free so he could feed whenever he wished. Eat whenever the hunger gets to be too much, as if to say. Well. Who exactly was the demon here.

Right, now let's go find them!

Would it be faster to track down Troy and pinpoint the location rather than searching for the kidnapped children directly? There was no shortage of human trafficking operations across this vast empire, and this whole storyline was tied to Daisy's arc—which meant Troy was probably the key to moving things forward. The problem was figuring out how to find Troy.

Criminals leave traces of themselves behind. Should I head to the orphanage first? Oh—I could find something of Troy's and have Jelly smell it, then track him by scent!

Jelly had found Daisy so efficiently that relying on his nose seemed like the obvious approach.

"Why are you looking at me?"

"Can you track down Troy?"

"Even I can't manage that."

Apparently not. Somewhat disappointing. Although, honestly—this was Daisy's episode to begin with. Having Jelly sniff around solving crimes wasn't exactly a stylish resolution for her arc.

But then how was he supposed to win her over? Look—even Daisy seemed disappointed.

"You... actually look quite ordinary, seeing you like this."