The Map Only I Can Read

The sound of small feet pattering and laughter echoed through the house.

"Hey, hey—keep it down!" Annie scolded gently. "You'll wake the good man sleeping inside."

A soft chuckle followed from behind the door.

Ren slowly opened his eyes.

"Hmm… okaaaay," one of the younger kids responded.

"Can we use the bathroom now, Annie?"

"Of course. While Evelyn finishes her cooking, you've got time to wash up. But don't take too long, or I'll eat all the food myself!"

Knock, knock

"Mister Ren? Are you awake?" came a woman's voice.

"Ah, yes. I'll be out in a minute," Ren replied, already sitting up and tidying the blanket and sheets.

He looked around the room—simple, neat, modestly furnished. Clearly, Evelyn kept things in order. From beyond the door, the scent of home cooking wafted in, warm and nostalgic.

He got up, quickly fixed his hair and clothes, and opened the door—only to freeze, face turning red.

Hanging behind the door was Evelyn's bra, swaying slightly.

Ren stared for a second too long before quickly turning away and heading into the living room, flustered.

The house was compact. A dining table stood in the middle, surrounded by six chairs. The cooking space was tucked neatly near the exit, a small open window providing ventilation. Across from it was the bathroom, and the room he'd just left sat to the side.

It wasn't much—but for the price Evelyn paid, it was more than livable.

"Ren, breakfast's ready. Come eat before heading to the market," Evelyn called, tasting the soup.

"Uhm… yes, thank you, Evelyn," Ren replied, still red in the face as he approached the table.

Evelyn turned to look. "Wait, are you alright? Are you sick? Your face is all red."

"Ah—no, no, I'm fine. It's just… uh, behind the door."

"Behind the—" She paused, eyes widening as realization dawned.

"My bra…" she whispered to herself.

She bolted toward the room, red-faced, and snatched it from the hook. She had meant to take it down before Ren woke up—but in the chaos of making breakfast and wrangling the kids, she'd completely forgotten.

Returning with quiet, embarrassed steps, she muttered, "Sorry, Ren… I didn't mean for you to see that."

"Don't worry about it," he said quickly, trying to wave it off. "It's a nice—I mean… everything's fine. Really."

Evelyn turned red and busied herself with the dishes to avoid meeting his eyes.

Just then, a girl emerged from the other room and gave a polite bow.

"Mister, thank you for helping us."

Ren smiled. "It's really nothing. Come sit—there's plenty of food." He pulled out the chair beside him.

"Mister… are you rich?" she asked bluntly as she sat.

"Rich? Me?" Ren tilted his head. "I came from the east—Wasteland. After hearing that, do you still think I'm rich?"

"Wait… Wasteland?" she blinked. "Isn't that just… dust and dead grass?"

"Yeah. Nothing grows there. But give it a year, and it might surprise you."

"What do you mean?" she asked, intrigued.

"Ah, nothing," he said with a small smile. "What's your name?"

"Annie. I'm nineteen. Second oldest here. Evelyn's three years older than me."

"So she's twenty-two," Ren nodded. "I'm twenty-six. Guess that explains why she calls me 'mister'—do I really look that old?"

"No, no," Annie shook her head quickly. "She just doesn't trust rich men. A nobleman from the North tricked her once, did something awful… and threw her out."

Ren's expression grew serious. "So that's why you ended up here."

"Yeah," Annie leaned in a little and whispered, "And… we're not actually siblings. Evelyn just took us in."

"Ah…" Ren blinked. "That's… a lot to share."

She grinned, a little cheeky. "It's okay. You seem like a good guy. I don't know why, but I feel like… I can trust you."

"You've got sharp instincts," Ren teased.

Annie just gave a smug little "Hmmh."

Evelyn removed her apron, calling out, "Kids! Last one to the table only gets plain rice!"

Two younger kids bolted out of the bathroom and into the room where Ren had slept. Moments later, a boy emerged and approached the table.

"Thanks for your help, Big Boss! I'll never forget it!"

"Boss?" Ren laughed. "Evelyn, what are you teaching them?"

"Shush," she said, smirking. "Just accept it and move on."

Ren looked at the boy. "What's your name?"

"Nico! I'm the third oldest! And when I become a real adventurer, I'll pay you back, Boss!"

"How old are you?"

"Fifteen. I'm training with the Ashborn Guild, swordsman class!"

"Well then, start paying me back now—be a good man. Help Annie and Evelyn, and protect your siblings."

Nico gave a firm nod. "Got it, Boss!"

"Okay, let's eat," Evelyn announced. "Nico, call the rest."

"Jodi! Mira!" he shouted. "Hurry up!"

Jodi ran in and slid into the chair. Mira peeked out shyly from behind Evelyn.

"Eve… who's he?" she whispered.

"This is Ren. He helped us stay in this house," Evelyn said gently. "Mira, come on, say thank you."

"Thank youuu!" Mira said with a tiny, sweet voice.

"You're welcome, Mira. Come eat before it gets cold."

Everyone sat down, the small home suddenly full of warmth and clatter and life. For the first time in a while, Ren felt like he was exactly where he needed to be.

Plates were cleared, chairs scooted back, and the table slowly emptied.

"I'm heading to the guild," Annie said, brushing crumbs from her lap. "Morning shift. Don't burn the house down while I'm gone." She winked at Nico and ruffled Mira's hair as she passed.

"I'm going too," Nico added quickly, slinging his wooden practice sword across his back. "Training starts in ten. Boss, I'll be strong enough next time you visit!"

Ren gave him a grin. "I'm looking forward to it."

"Come on, Mimi," Annie called again from the doorway. "You too, Jodi. Don't be late for school."

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Jodi groaned, tugging on his boots. Mira followed quietly, slipping her tiny hand into Annie's without a word.

With the younger ones gone, the house fell into a calm silence.

Evelyn was wiping down the table when Ren finally stood. "I think I'll head to the market," he said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "There are some supplies I need to pick up before heading back."

"Oh? What are you looking for?" she asked, glancing up.

"Tools. Nails. Rope. Maybe seeds, if I'm lucky. Some farm animal and anything useful."

Evelyn paused, then nodded slowly. "The market square should still be busy this hour. Just be careful of pickpockets. Especially near the north stalls—there's a brat there who could make a merchant cry."

Ren chuckled. "Thanks for the tip. What about you? Off to work?"

"I'll head to Moira's shop," she said, tying her dark red hair up. "We've got a sick miner in again. Chest infection this time. I'll be back before dark."

Ren walked to the door, then paused and glanced back.

"Hey… thanks again. For everything."

Evelyn met his gaze, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

"You already paid the rent, Ren. No need to thank me for eggs and rice."

Then, a little softer, "But if you ever come back to the city—this door is always open."

He smirked. "Still… it means something."

With a nod, he stepped outside into the sunlit street—his steps steady, his thoughts fixed on the market ahead.

He rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck, and stretched out his limbs—a little warm-up after yesterday he sleeping on stone floors and leaning against walls. No mattress. No comfort. Just grit.

Strength had returned to his limbs. And now, he was ready.

Ready to trade gold for something far more valuable.

A future.