Chapter 6
“Ugh… Sha, Sharman…”
There was a thud as someone collapsed, revealing a raccoon-like beastman who looked visibly young, along with a scattered basket.
The one who made the noise was the same species as the raccoon who had introduced himself as Alessandro.
With dark fur markings, his eyes looked sunken as if he hadn’t slept for days.
Various roasted vegetables and root crops had spilled from the basket.
Sharman blinked.
‘What did I just do? This is Elium, after all…’
Realizing a moment too late that she had made a mistake, Sharman flung the broom away.
“I’m so sorry!”
She quickly apologized and reached out her hand. The small raccoon took it, got to his feet, and shook the dust off his fur.
“It’s okay, I was just surprised. I heard a noise back here at this hour and came to check. But I didn’t expect you to be up. What’s going on?”
The little raccoon, who barely reached Sharman’s knee, waved it off casually.
Despite sounding like a child, his demeanor was far more composed than Sharman’s.
“Well…”
“Oh no! Your breakfast is all spilled! Lord Alessandro will be mad… ugh.”
The young raccoon looked like he was about to cry.
Even though she knew she wasn’t in a warzone, Sharman’s body reacted instinctively.
Still, it was clearly her fault.
Kneeling, she began gathering the spilled food back into the basket.
The ground had been swept beforehand, so there was only a little dirt on it.
Compared to moldy or spoiled rations from the battlefield, this was practically a feast.
Among the food was a roasted sweet potato from yesterday.
Though she usually only drank water or barely ate anything in the morning, she couldn’t help but feel a bit excited.
“You can just brush them off and eat them. I didn’t mean to scare you. It was entirely my fault.”
“Huh? But Sharman, your tone is weird. Why are you talking formally? Is this some new game?”
Oh. Right. Her way of speaking!
Sharman hesitated, realizing she’d spoken too formally.
That would definitely raise suspicion.
After some thought, she came up with an excuse.
“I, uh… I hit my head falling out of bed in my sleep…”
“Really? And then?”
The little raccoon jumped back, arms wide, clearly shocked.
It was impressive how expressive and animated such a small creature could be.
“…So I lost my memory. Please understand—no, I mean, I’d appreciate your understanding.”
“Gasp! Really? What happens when you lose your memory?”
Sharman thought for a moment before answering.
“When you lose your memory, you don’t know anything.”
“Then… you turned into a fool, Sharman?”
A blunt but innocent question. It wasn’t entirely wrong. She didn’t know anything about this body.
Sharman nodded.
“Why did you come by?”
When she asked, the young raccoon tilted his head and took a step back.
“You really don’t remember anything? I come by almost every day! I have to deliver the breakfast you ordered. Unless Lord Alessandro brings it himself, it’s usually me.”
Ordering breakfast? That wasn’t something she had ever done.
“Every day?”
“Yeah, otherwise you’ll go hungry. And when you’re hungry, you get mean. And when you get mean, you don’t open the shop. Lots of people get upset when that happens. So I have to bring it.”
Is breakfast really that important?
When she looked in the mirror, she hadn’t seemed like someone who’d get angry at all.
No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t picture it.
“You get mean when hungry… Like turning into a beast?”
The young raccoon looked up at her and blinked.
“…Will you hit me if your memory comes back?”
Sharman flinched and quickly shook her head.
“I won’t hit you.”
The little raccoon sighed in relief and added,
“You get really mean! You yell over a hundred different curses and your strength goes crazy strong! Never provoke you when you’re like that.”
“Over a hundred curses…?”
“Yep! Lord Alessandro said he hadn’t heard some of those words in 500 years. If you don’t get food, it’s a disaster. He said it’s because you starved a lot when you were little. You don’t remember that either?”
Instead of answering, Sharman just nodded.
Five hundred years…?
She knew Alessandro was extraordinary, but this confirmed he’d lived far longer than she expected.
Which meant this young raccoon might not be as young as he looked either.
The little one asked, worriedly,
“What about the shop?”
“I know the rules. I’ll do my best… really.”
Sharman looked down at him with seriousness in her eyes.
“You really don’t remember anything? Hm, there must be a way to fix that…”
Grrrrowl.
A strange sound cut through the air during their deep conversation.
Sharman froze stiff.
The young raccoon, eyes wide, glanced between her face and her stomach before grabbing the basket.
“Let’s eat breakfast first. Before you go feral!”
“I’ve never seen Sharman’s shop this clean. I’m not even coughing!”
The young raccoon, who had carried the basket, gasped in wonder again upon entering.
Sharman placed the basket on the table and looked around.
“Uh… plates.”
“I know where those are!”
“…What?”
The little raccoon darted off and flung open a drawer.
With a crash, unorganized plates and dishes came tumbling out.
He pulled one from the pile, shoved the rest back in without care, and returned holding it out.
“Here! Even without your memory, you still can’t find the dishes, huh.”
“…Thanks.”
“It’s so weird hearing you speak politely. Oh! Don’t tell me—you don’t remember my name either?”
As she placed food onto the plate, Sharman nodded.
“I’m Alonso! Lord Alessandro is my father’s father’s father’s father’s father’s father’s father’s father’s great-uncle! He’s also our clan chief!”
“Alonso. And Lord Alessandro is your… father’s father’s father’s… okay, got it.”
“Yep! Just call me Alonso!”
The young raccoon beastman’s name was Alonso.
Sharman engraved the name into her memory.
But the amount of food was too much for one person.
Surely she didn’t eat this much every day.
She debated whether to ask him to take some back or suggest they share it.
Eventually, she worked up the courage to speak.
“Alonso. If you haven’t eaten yet…”
She trailed off and offered him one of the cleaner potatoes from the plate.
Alonso blinked in disbelief.
“Sh-Sharman… is sharing food…?”
Sharman tilted her head.
“It’s too much for me. If you haven’t had breakfast yet, I thought we could eat together.”
It was a lot of food—easily enough for two or three people.
It was impressive how he’d carried all this in such a small body.
Alonso stared at her like he was seeing something unreal and asked skeptically,
“I mean… I’d love to, but… are you sure? You get mad when you’re hungry.”
Sharman paused, then shook her head.
“As you can see, I’ve lost my memory. I don’t know how to get mad.”
“Whoa! So losing your memory is a good thing?! Then promise you won’t get mad even when it comes back?”
“Okay.”
Alonso carefully accepted the potato with both hands.
The two sat down and ate roasted vegetables, potatoes, and sweet potatoes.
It was strangely amazing to have such a peaceful breakfast.
During training, she never really had breakfast. On the battlefield, she ate to survive.
There were times she’d eaten right beside corpses.
She used to think that even a piece of jerky or a slice of bread was a luxury.
This time, Sharman picked up a roasted green onion and took a bite.
There was no spiciness—only a silky, sticky sweetness that spread in her mouth.
The charred part she had considered peeling off added a pleasant smokiness. She’d have regretted removing it.
“…It’s delicious.”
Alonso beamed with pride.
“My family is amazing at farming! We’re basically the best in Elium! I’ll bring corn next time. Hopefully you’ve gotten your memory back by then!”
“Really? Ah—yes, that sounds delicious.”
Alonso was very proud of his farming.
He was a beastman about to turn thirteen and said he’d first started speaking when he was five.
That was two or three years earlier than most raccoon beastmen, and he proudly bragged about it.
He also mentioned that he’d been delivering breakfast to Pepe for nearly two years.
Except for the days Lord Alessandro delivered it himself, he hadn’t missed a single day.
Pepe wasn’t picky, he said, but she did get angry if the food was late.
The face Sharman had seen in the mirror looked completely harmless—it was hard to imagine it getting angry.
Still, Alonso clearly feared her when she was mad.
“…Alonso.”
“Yeah?”
After choosing her words, Sharman calmly asked,
“What kind of person was I?”
