Adrian came again.
back to the small shack hidden within the woods.
Carlo was out for work today, leaving the two children alone.
This time, Irene wanted to show Adrian around town
the place she had grown up, the small world she knew.
Adrian followed his new friend quietly,
watching everything with interest,
They walked through the village together
visited the bakery, passed by the playground where children played in the dust, followed the narrow dirt paths Irene knew by heart.
Eventually, they arrived at the church.
Simple building where villagers prayed and paid respect to their beliefs.
Neither child came to pray.
Neither Irene nor Adrian believed in God.
But surprisingly, this place was Irene's favorite.
Sometimes the church offered free bread…
and unlike the townspeople,
they didn't treat her like a misfortune.
Which, in itself, was sad to say.
Adrian stayed outside, quietly observing the village as Irene went in.
He peeked at the people passing by,
the stray cats,
the birds on the roof,
everything was unfamiliar.
Finally, Irene came back out.
She was smiling, holding two small loaves of bread in her hands.
One for herself.
And one for her friend.
Come to think of it…
there really weren't many children in the village.
Adrian had expected to see more
to pass by groups of kids playing,
or at least bump into a few along the way.
But aside from the small playground they'd walked past earlier,
their entire route hadn't crossed a single other child.
He puzzled over it the whole way back…
until he finally asked:
"Are there few kids in this village?"
Irene, still munching on her bread, startled at the question.
"…Why do you ask?"
"It's not what I imagined."
"... I see…" she replied, forcing a small smile.
That answer only made Adrian more curious.
He wanted to understand her better,
her life, her world, the things she never talked about.
Maybe… this was the place to start.
"Can you introduce me to some of your friends, Irene?"
"…My friends?"
Irene froze.
Her hands tightened around the small loaf of bread,
her fingers pressing into it.
Her eyes darted around, searching for an answer.
What do I tell him?
Adrian watched her closely.
And from her reaction alone…
he understood.
At least, he could guess.
To his surprise, Irene said it out loud.
"…To be honest, I don't get along well with the other kids in the village."
She forced a faint smile,
trying to pretend it didn't bother her
but her voice trembled just a little.
It was clear she was holding herself together.
"I'm sorry," Adrian said bluntly. Not because he pitied her, but because he already knew.
They had taken the longer routes around the village, avoiding crowded places
"…Let's head back," Irene said softly.
"Alright."
The walk back home was uncomfortable.
Awkward.
Neither of them spoke a single word.
Adrian kept glancing at Irene from time to time,
noticing the way she clenched her hands together
a small habit she seemed to have whenever she was sad
or caught in heavy thoughts.
Suddenly, Irene stopped in front of the shack.
She turned to him, eyes lowered.
"…I know this is selfish," she said quietly,
"but… can you not talk to any children in the village other than me?"
But we haven't even known each other that long…
Irene thought.
Irene's fingers tightened against her sleeves,
as if she needed to hold herself in place.
Adrian studied her expression carefully.
Then he spoke
not teasing, not confused, but gently,
to reassure her:
"Irene, I only know you."
He didn't answer the question
He didn't directly answer her request
but somehow, the line eased her heart anyway.
"…Thank you"
…
It felt like he hadn't done anything for her today.
All they did was wander around town…
and he simply followed her everywhere she went,
taking every little gift she offered him without giving anything in return.
Adrian wasn't good with words.
He wanted to comfort her, but the right things never came to mind.
So instead
he reached into the small pouch at his waist
and pulled out a tiny cloth bag.
He hesitated for a second,
then offered it to Irene.
Irene blinked, surprised.
she noticed the nervous look on Adrian's face as he handed it over.
It was… cute.
"…This is for you"
"For me?"
"Who else is here?"
"…You're right," Irene smiled faintly. "Thank you."
"I… figured I should bring a gift," Adrian said awkwardly.
"For my… friend."
Irene opened the bag.
Inside were small squares of chocolate
dark, shiny, neatly wrapped.
Her eyes lit up.
"Thank you," she said again, this time with a brighter smile.
Adrian's ears reddened.
He quickly looked away.
"…I heard girls like chocolate."
"Is that so?"
"Do you?"
"…I don't know," Irene admitted. "I've never had them."
Finally looking back at her, Adrian noticed something.
Irene was genuinely happy now.
Her eyes were bright, her smile soft and real
and seeing that made him feel strangely happy too.
"…I'll bring more gifts next time,"
"You don't have to,"
"..."
She was cheerful now
far more than before.
It was wonderful how such a simple gift could lift her spirits after so much sadness.
Maybe it wasn't the chocolate.
Maybe it was the thought behind it
the small effort, the care,
the feeling of being remembered.
And Irene was truly happy about that.
"Do you want to eat them together?" she asked.
"I brought them for you."
"But I can't eat them all."
"…"
Adrian hesitated.
But the slight hope in her eyes…
the soft, inviting way she held the bag toward him…
It made it hard to say no.
They sat down behind the shack again
the same spot as before
and shared the small bag of chocolate between them.
To Adrian, the pieces tasted bitter and bland.
But to Irene, they were sweet.
Sweeter than anything she had ever tasted in her life.
As they ate, Irene suddenly asked:
"Do you have many friends, Adrian?"
Adrian paused, startled by the question.
He hesitated for a moment before replying,
"…Why do you ask?"
"I just figured you might have a lot," she said honestly.
Seeing her curious expression, Adrian felt the sudden urge to tease her a little.
"I only have you," he said, leaning forward and resting one arm on his knee, his hand supporting his chin.
Irene nearly choked on the chocolate.
"That can't be true"
"How would you know?" Adrian asked, a hint of mischief in his voice.
"…It's because you're… kind."
Kind? Me?
His thoughts tangled.
Her words didn't feel like they belonged to him.
But Irene looked at him with genuine belief,
as if she truly meant it.
That moment
Adrian didn't know what to do with that feeling.
It was sad when you think about it,
how someone who had endured so much loneliness
could brighten so quickly with just the smallest bit of kindness.
Ironic, even.
People who have much always want more.
People who have little learn to treasure the smallest things.
And she…
was someone who had far too little.