Among the three bargaining siblings, Anne was the most adept at financial management.
For instance, when Emilio seemed about to overspend on shopping, he would charm his way and shed tears to balance the books with his innate charm, whereas Anne never did such things. She meticulously budgeted ahead of time, always managing to stay within her means.
One day, strict with her financial management, Anne approached Leo.
“Please, Leo, you can take all my money—”
She tossed her carefully saved pennies towards Leo, who was chatting with Bruno.
“—if you teach me how to cook.”
She bowed deeply, her forehead nearly touching the floor.
***
“Granny Hilde’s unconscious?”
In the attic workshop, Leo, busy with handiwork alongside Bruno, widened his eyes at the news from his dear little sister.
“Yeah, she’s in a bad way. Despite her bad leg, she tried climbing a ladder to the high part of the garden and fell, hitting her head. That’s what they said yesterday morning.”
“Why would she do something so reckless…”
“Well, Granny Hilde’s always been fiery, even with her bad leg.”
Beside Leo, who furrowed his brows, Bruno muttered softly.
Granny Hilde, a moderately wealthy elderly recluse, was a major customer for the “Elderly Visiting Daycare Service” provided by Hannah Orphanage. Her cantankerous behavior had troubled many of the orphanage’s members.
“I went there once and got whacked with her cane,” Bruno said.
“Well, you probably provoked her with your deadpan insults. She was difficult, but she wasn’t like that with me,” Leo responded, narrowing his eyes slightly.
After visiting Granny Hilde several times himself, Leo had decided Anne was suitable to take over for him.
Anne nodded when Leo glanced at her.
“Yeah. She threw water at me and called me a dirty orphan, but she also gave me new clothes when she saw I wasn’t wet. She threw food at me later, but it was all good stuff.”
“Yeah, you took home lemons and butter cookies like crazy. They were good,” Bruno added.
“…”
Leo and the others nodded in agreement, moved by Anne’s sincerity. Bruno, however, had a more nuanced expression.
Though he had accepted his fate as an orphan, his proud nature made it hard for him to reach such an understanding.
Anne hesitated before continuing.
“Um… Maybe, just maybe, Granny Hilde was trying to get lemons for me and climbed the ladder. When I visited her house, she poured me lemon-infused water, which was so delicious I couldn’t stop praising her. She turned away but had this sparkle in her eye… She always does that when she’s happy.”
Granny Hilde collapsed on the morning of Anne’s planned visit.
“Maybe she slipped trying to pick the best-looking lemon,” Anne suggested.
“Maybe… But either way, I want to do something for her. I got chased away by nosy neighbors yesterday just for being an orphan, and I couldn’t even get inside her house…”
“Head injuries aren’t that serious,” Leo assured her, brushing Anne’s cheek to comfort her. “But her strength and spirit might not keep up anymore. If she doesn’t wake up soon, she might just sleep away forever…”
The word “death” was familiar to the orphans at the home.
They had seen friends who played with them one day, cold in an alley the next.
Even just saying those unsettling words brought tears to Anne’s eyes.
“Granny Hilde loves good food, so if she smells a delicious soup, she might just wake right up, like you do with the smell of copper,” Anne suggested.
“Anne, that’s…”
“Yeah, she might wake up,” Leo interrupted Bruno’s attempt to interject.
He believed in Anne’s theory and didn’t want to dampen her determination.
Anne clenched her fists in front of her chest.
“I’ve never been allowed to cook before. Until now, I’ve only delivered the soups Leo made… But this time, I want to make it myself.”
“Teach me, Leo.”
After stating her request, Anne fought back tears and pursed her lips determinedly.
“Of course,” Leo said, gently picking up the scattered pennies from the floor. He hesitated for a moment, then returned them to Anne, petting her head gently.
“First-time customer special, free of charge.”
He brushed off the smell of copper coins from his palm and laughed, heading towards the kitchen.
***
A few minutes later,
Anne, wearing an old apron with determination, entered the kitchen.
“Oh!”
She was greeted by the sight of a dead chicken.
“Hey, Anne, is this your first time starting from here?”
“Yeah, I’ve gutted it already,” Leo added nonchalantly.
Leo usually severed the necks, while Bruno plucked the feathers—roles that suited their respective strengths.
“It’s just quicker from the bottom, Anne. But hey, you might as well learn to gut a chicken!”
“Ah. If you learn quickly, there’s nothing to lose,” muttered the two clueless men, oblivious to Anne’s cautious approach, as they eagerly gripped their knives.
“We’re using the whole bird this time, so you don’t have to butcher it yet. Just make some cuts to bring out the flavor, okay?”
“From the thigh base, twist in both directions,” advised one.
As a rough division of labor, the younger group handled vegetables and fruits, while the elders were in charge of meat and fish.
Anne, touching the squishy chicken skin for the first time, murmured, “Ugh…” Her hands trembled as she gripped the knife.
“I-I’m scared! It feels so… gross!”
Despite her words, she boldly inserted the knife.
“…Ah, yeah. You know, it’s surprisingly easier for girls to adapt to this,” remarked one.
“Emilio handled it before, saying ‘N-no, it’s not scary, but I’ll leave it to Big Brother Bruno,’ and managed to avoid it until the end,” another recalled.
“Yeah, Marcel was like that too.”
Thus, while the younger group learned how to handle chickens, the elders also came to appreciate the courage of girls and the ineptitude of boys.
After rubbing salt into the cuts and finishing the chicken preparation, they moved on to preparing the vegetables.
“This time, let’s make a rich chicken and potato soup. It’s light, but Hilde Granny prefers it that way.”
“Yeah, Hilde Granny likes lighter soups over heavy stews.”
“What a discerning lady.”
The orphanage’s financial situation was always tight, limiting lavish use of seasonings or meat in their cooking. Hence, Leo tended to make lightly seasoned dishes, extracting broth from bones and vegetable peels, yet these simple dishes had a deep flavor that appealed strongly to the elderly.
They prepared cracked wheat, carrots, potatoes, and rosemary. The herbs were lightly crushed and added to the pot with the chicken, along with the cracked wheat.
Carrots were cleaned without peeling — wasting was not an option — and roughly chopped.
Leo frowned as he took out the potatoes from the sack, noticing sprouts.
“Oh, they’ve started sprouting.”
“I got these cheap.”
“Alright, Anne. Ever done sprouting before?”
Anne nodded with a solemn expression. “Um… I haven’t done it, but I’m ready!”
“What do you mean?”
Leo questioned her, but Anne confidently re-gripped her knife.
“Sister Leda said my knife skills lack accuracy and delicacy, but I have boldness, determination, and spirit. She said I could be her successor. So… I’ll be fine!”
“What? Taking away accuracy from knife skills leaves you with what? Also, being recognized as the successor to Leda, the worst cook ever, you’ve got a lot to understand!”
“Cooking isn’t about technique. It’s about spirit and determination,” Anne insisted.
“No, that’s not it! Clearly not! And what’s with that grip?”
Leo was startled to see Anne holding the knife upside down, glaring at the potatoes on the cutting board as if she were about to sacrifice them on an altar.
“Cutting… the eyes out!”
“Eyes! They’re sprouts! Why are you emitting such an unsettling aura!?”
Just as Leo was about to protest further against Anne’s demonic aura, a sudden noise echoed through the chaotic kitchen.
*Bang*
Leo instinctively reached out towards Anne, anticipating disaster, then froze as silence followed the noise.
“…There’s certainly no hesitation.”
Ahead of his gaze, Bruno leaned forward, enveloping the knife blade with his tanned hands.
It was a technique known as “sword-catching,” holding the blade from both sides to prevent it from moving.
“The knife… isn’t moving!?”
“You’re too soft, Anne. No hesitation, but no speed either. At this rate, your prey will escape before you can finish it.”
To Anne’s astonishment at the immobile knife, Bruno lifted the corners of his lips.
“…Hey, what’s going on? Is this an action movie? A yakuza novel? Are you guys really into this?”
Looking distant, Leo interjected.
Leo knew it was pointless to be surprised at remarks like “Are your hands okay?” or “What’s with that technique?” after being in the business for so long.
“Bruno is freakishly strong and weird.”
If Leo managed to grasp this, he could avoid situations where he would only get tired from making comments.
“…Anyway, Anne, put down the knife. You need to understand the concept of cooking, not just sprouting.”
“Y-Yes.”
“That’s right, Anne. The knife isn’t the issue. If you want to train, let’s try daggers next time.”
“Bruno, be quiet!”
Thus, the “cooking lesson” occasionally transformed into scenes from a life-or-death classroom or assassination classroom, taking the three of them several hours to finally complete the soup.
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