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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: The Observation Journal
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-Kid Observation Journal, Day 10.
Ever since the kitchen fire, the kid hasn't come anywhere near the kitchen.
He seems to be scared of cooking. But there are no more potatoes or sweet potatoes for him to eat.
In the end, the kid chose carrots, one of the few things he could eat raw.
As he crunched on the carrots, the kid started to cry.
I feel bad.
.
.
.
-Kid Observation Journal, Day 14.
The kid's cheeks have gotten hollower with each passing day. Now even the carrots are gone, so there’s nothing left for him to eat raw.
What's more, over half of the few remaining ingredients have rotted.
The rumbling from the kid's stomach is constant.
After filling his belly with nothing but water, the kid cracked an egg, probably intending to eat it raw.
...Oh, dear. It seems the egg was left at room temperature for too long and had partially incubated. The half-formed corpse of a chick came out.
The kid gagged and fled the kitchen.
.
.
-Kid Observation Journal, Day 16.
The kid didn't eat a single meal today.
At this rate, he’s going to die—
[Aaargh! Damn it!]
I stopped writing in my observation journal and let out a scream.
I just couldn't bring myself to write anymore. Lowering the pen I had floating in mid-air, I flew to where the kid was.
Passing through the wall, I saw the kid curled up on the bed.
Grrrrumble~
The rumbling of his stomach echoed loudly in the silent room. The small mound he made under the covers flinched, and he curled up even tighter.
He was desperately trying to endure his hunger.
The kid hadn't eaten since lunch yesterday. For the four days before that, he'd had only one raw meal a day, consisting of subsistence crops with little to no nutritional value.
He's only held on this long because he's a child; an adult would have collapsed long ago.
[Damn it, how many days has it been since he got here?]
I went back to my room again to check the observation journal.
I started writing it the day after he arrived, so today is the 17th day.
More than half a month has passed. They said ingredients were supplied once a month, which means there are 13 days left, roughly two weeks.
[Damn it all, how could they not check on him even once?!]
I was furious. They had to have known the child couldn't cook, yet they abandoned him all alone in this huge mansion.
I had my suspicions when they just dropped him off on the day of the wedding and left.
Still, I thought, surely they'd come by once a week to see if he was dead or alive.
That 'surely not' came back to haunt me.
[What are they going to do if he starves to death?!]
I couldn't take it anymore. At this rate, I'll have a corpse on my hands.
If it were an adult, I wouldn't care if they lived or died, but this is a little kid who can't even read.
If a child starves to death and becomes an earthbound spirit here like me, it'll just be a nuisance.
[I'm definitely not doing this to help him.]
I just don't want another earthbound spirit like me in the mansion.
I quickly flew down to the kitchen and checked the remaining ingredients.
[I should be able to make some bread or oatmeal.]
It was a good thing I'd been tidying up bit by bit while the kid was away.
I had already organized spices like salt and sugar into glass jars, and I'd put the other ingredients in their proper places.
First, since the kid hasn't had a proper meal in days, I should make something easy to digest.
[Oatmeal is the only option, right?]
I immediately took out the oats, salt, and other necessities. I lit the hearth, brought over a pot, and started toasting the oats.
[To think I'd be cooking in this lifetime. Or, well, this afterlife.]
It goes without saying, but ghosts don't feel hunger. We can't eat, so we have no reason to cook.
Even so, I'd watched the humans who lived in this mansion cook, and I had memorized every single book in the library, so the methods were stored in my head.
[Agh! It's burning! It's burning!]
The only problem is that I can't smell, so unless I see smoke, I have no way of knowing if something is burning.
I reflexively tried to grab the pan's handle, only for my hand to pass right through. Embarrassed, I used my mana instead.
[This kid keeps making me forget I'm a ghost.]
The reason I can hold objects and clean the mansion despite being a ghost is because I can use magic.
Normally, one uses the mana within their body to cast magic, but since I don't have a body, I use the mana floating in the air around me.
After about 300 years as a ghost, you pick up a few tricks.
I picked out the blackened oats and ground them finely.
[Now, just add milk and it's done!]
The milk came from a goat that sometimes wanders into the yard.
I couldn't smell it, but it looked more or less right. Still, it seemed a bit plain, so I sprinkled in some salt.
[...How much should I add?]
The cookbook just said to taste and season appropriately. But since I couldn't eat, there was no way for me to taste it.
[Hmm, this much? No, maybe a little more?]
I just went with my gut and dumped some in. When it seemed about right, I poured the finished oatmeal into a dish.
[Now, how do I give this to him?]
If it suddenly appears next to his bed, he'll start searching for someone again.
What should I do? I racked my brain for a while.
[Ah! I can use the smell!]
The kid is starving, so he'll definitely react strongly to the scent of oatmeal.
I hurried over to the kid's door with the oatmeal. Then I opened the door just a crack and gently blew a breeze inside.
After about a minute of this, the mound on the bed twitched.
"...Smells delicious."
[It worked!]
The kid swallowed hard and got out of bed. Before he could open the door, I took the oatmeal and headed down the stairs.
Thankfully, the kid followed the scent, slowly making his way to the kitchen.
Just before he entered, I placed the bowl of oatmeal on the dining table and hid myself in a cupboard.
"...Food?"
Seeing the steaming oatmeal, the kid's face lit up. He then practically shoved his face into the bowl.
[He's going to burn his tongue like that.]
"Ouch, hot...!"
[See? I knew it.]
Unable to keep his mouth still from the heat, he calmed down a bit and started blowing on it before eating.
"Ugh, salty...!"
Hearing him say it was salty, I flinched. It seemed I'd added too much salt.
[I'll have to use less next time.]
Gulp, hooo, slurp! Chomp!
But the kid ate the oatmeal with a gusto that was heartwarming to see. He must have been incredibly hungry, despite the saltiness.
When he had finished the bowl, the kid stared blankly at the empty dish.
There was more oatmeal right next to him, so I wondered what he was doing, until transparent droplets began to fall into the bowl.
[Why... why is he crying?]
I was taken aback.
"It's delicious... so delicious..."
For a moment, I was at a loss for words.
How lonely and difficult it must have been for him.
Married to a ghost at such a young age, abandoned alone in a mansion, unable to even eat properly—it must have been unbelievably hard.
The kid cried quietly for a long time.
Through his tears, he ate another bowl of oatmeal, washed the dishes cleanly, and stored the rest in a corner.
Long after he left, I remained in the kitchen, unable to move.
[Right, let's stop this.]
I threw the observation journal I'd kept in a corner of the kitchen into the hearth. Fifteen days of entries turned to ash in an instant.
Despite that, my heart felt lighter.
[First things first, I have to keep the kid alive.]
It seems I've grown attached to him after observing him for half a month. I became curious what the kid, who always seemed to be crying or looking gloomy, would look like when he smiled.
* * *
"Ugh, I'm thirsty."
Lucian woke up feeling an insane thirst. It was probably because the oatmeal he ate yesterday was so salty.
He drank the water he had placed by his bed beforehand to quench his thirst.
After downing a full cup, the thirst finally subsided.
"Hee, heehee..."
He remembered what happened yesterday and burst out laughing.
"Who could it be? Was it the person who was here on the first day?"
To be honest, he thought for sure he was going to die yesterday.
He was hungry, he couldn't cook, and there was nothing to eat. He could have gone outside and eaten some grass, but he didn't want to go that far.
No, rather than that, he'd wished he could just drop dead. He thought dying would be easier than living alone in this vast, empty mansion.
But when death was actually at his doorstep, he was scared. He had wished for anyone, anyone at all, to reach out a hand to him.
And then, a miracle happened.
"But why won't they show themselves?"
He was curious why his benefactor, whose face, name, and gender he didn't know, wouldn't reveal themself.
Could it be that they weren't allowed to reveal their identity because of orders from the imperial palace?
"...I just want to say thank you."
Fiddling with the empty cup, Lucian's shoulders slumped in gloom, but he quickly shook his head.
"First, I'll try looking for them again!"
Grrrrumble~
His spirits renewed, he declared his ambition loudly, only for his stomach to rumble thoughtlessly.
Even though no one was around, Lucian's cheeks turned red with embarrassment.
"Ahem, maybe I should eat first?"
Considering the amount left over from yesterday, he could probably last until dinner today.
He thought he'd have to ration it carefully, since it would run out quickly once he started eating.
Just before leaving, he noticed the rather large pile of laundry.
"...I should do the laundry after I eat."
I don't really know how, but I just have to soak it in water and then take it out, right? Right?
Before, he had only resented having to do everything himself, but now he felt proud, as if he had become an adult.
Lucian scrambled down the stairs with excited steps. He went to the kitchen, ready to eat his oatmeal...
"...Huh?"
Lucian blinked at the sight laid out on the kitchen table.
"It's bread and meat!"
A magnificent, steaming breakfast was laid out in the kitchen.
There was freshly baked bread, bacon, broccoli, and corn soup. He had never eaten such a lavish breakfast, not even where he used to live.
Everything smelled so good that he couldn't help but gulp down his saliva.
Wiping the drool from his mouth, Lucian quickly sat down. He took a bite of the bread first.
"Hah, hahh... Ho...! D-delicious!"
It seemed the bread was truly fresh from the oven, as steam puffed from his mouth. It was so soft it melted away without much chewing, and the savory flavor delighted his tongue.
Lucian gently dipped the bread into the soup.
When he ate it, a fantastic combination began to dance in his mouth.
"This is good, and that's good! It's all delicious!"
Even the thick bacon was pure fantasy. After tasting a bit of everything, Lucian discovered the green broccoli. Having never seen it before, he had no idea what it was.
"This must be delicious too, right?"
So, he fearlessly popped it into his mouth. Lucian's smiling face slowly hardened, then melted.
"Ugh... this is gross."
This was a betrayal. To think something so awful could exist among such delicious food. Lucian had a long staring contest with the broccoli before pushing it to the side.
Treating it as if it didn't exist, he devoured everything else. The plates were empty in an instant.
