Takuya's usual smirk vanished completely. For the first time since they'd arrived, his sharp features softened into something approaching genuine sympathy. He knelt down in the snow, bringing himself eye-level with the weeping mother, who had fallen to her knees.
The young mother's desperate sobs echoed through the frozen square as she clutched her dying child. Takuya felt something unfamiliar twist in his chest as he watched her - the raw terror of a parent about to lose their only remaining family. His fingers twitched at his sides as he thought of Wapol, safe in his castle while his people suffered.
'This is what happens when worthless trash sits on a throne,' he thought, his jaw tightening. 'Taking doctors, killing fathers, leaving babies to die in the snow.' A cold anger settled in his gut, sharper than the Arctic wind. He'd make sure that fat bastard paid for this.
"Give her to me," Takuya said, his voice quieter than usual. The mother hesitated for only a second before placing the tiny bundle in his arms. The baby felt frighteningly light, her breaths barely stirring the blanket.
Takuya's hands were gentle as he touched the infant's chest. He could feel the damage immediately - lungs too small, heart struggling, blood poisoned by infection. All things that could have been fixed easily if Wapol hadn't driven away every competent doctor.
"No more suffering," he murmured, more to himself than the child. His hand spread through the tiny body, reshaping, repairing, purging sickness in an instant, while also making sure not to hurt her any more than she's already hurt.
The baby's skin flushed pink, her chest rising with a deep, healthy breath. Then her eyes fluttered open - bright, clear, alive, and a small smile spread across her face.
The mother's choked gasp cut through the silence. "K-Karina?" she whispered, her hands trembling as Takuya returned her now-squirming daughter.
The baby let out a robust cry, tiny fists waving in the air. The sound seemed to break a spell over the square. The mother burst into tears, clutching her child like she'd never let go. Around them, villagers wiped their eyes, their faces a mix of joy and lingering anger at the injustice they'd endured.
Takuya stood abruptly, turning back to his stall before anyone could see his expression. He busied himself with packing supplies, but his mind was already working. Wapol would answer for this. Not today, maybe not tomorrow - but soon. And when the time came, he'd make sure the so-called king understood exactly what it felt like to be powerless.
"Take these," he said gruffly, shoving a tin of cookies at the weeping mother without looking at her. "One every morning. She'll grow up strong."
The young mother clutched her now-healthy daughter to her chest, tears streaming down her face as she knelt before Takuya in the snow. Her entire body trembled—not from cold this time, but from overwhelming emotion.
"Please," she choked out, pressing her forehead to the frozen ground. "You've given me back my whole world. How can I ever—" Her voice broke as the baby girl gurgled happily in her arms, tiny fingers grasping at her mother's tear-stained face.
Takuya shifted uncomfortably, his usual demeanor softened by the raw display of gratitude. "Get up," he muttered, reaching down to lift her by the shoulders. "The snow's freezing your knees."
But the woman wouldn't budge. She grabbed Takuya's hand with both of hers, pressing it to her forehead. "My husband died protecting our last doctor," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
"Now you come—a stranger—and save what little family I had left." A fresh wave of tears spilled over as she looked up at him. "Tell me how to repay this debt. Anything. My home, my labor—"
Takuya's jaw tightened. He gently but firmly pulled his hand away. "The cookie was payment enough," he said gruffly, avoiding her gaze.
Mira, watching from the stall, raised an eyebrow at this unexpected display of humility from her master.
The woman stood shakily, cradling her daughter. "At least tell me your name, kind sir," she pleaded. "So I may teach my daughter who saved her life."
For a long moment, Takuya said nothing. Then, with a sigh, he reached into his coat and pulled out another tin—this one filled with special cookies marked with tiny blue stars. "These will keep her strong," he said, pressing it into the woman's hands. "One every morning until they're gone."
The young mother stood trembling before Takuya, her tear-filled eyes searching his face as she clutched the precious tin of cookies to her chest.
Her daughter cooed happily in her arms, tiny fingers reaching toward Takuya with innocent trust. Without warning, she suddenly stepped forward and threw her arms around him in a desperate embrace, her entire body shaking with silent sobs as the bundled baby pressed between them let out a happy gurgle.
"Please, sir," the mother whispered against his shoulder, her voice thick with emotion. "Just tell me why—"
Takuya stiffened momentarily at the sudden contact, then slowly, almost reluctantly, raised his hands. One came to rest gently on the woman's head, fingers threading through her wind-tangled hair with surprising tenderness.
The other carefully cradled the baby's tiny head, his thumb brushing lightly across the infant's forehead where death's pallor had been just minutes before.
"Shhh...enough now," he murmured, his usually sharp voice softening remarkably. "Don't thank me again. Truth is, I'm not someone who deserves thanks. You have no idea of the things I have done."
His hand lingered on the baby's head as he added quietly, "Just take good care of her, alright? I helped because I could, not because I'm some hero."
The woman clung tighter, her fingers gripping his jacket like a lifeline. "She was dying," she choked out. "I felt her slipping away every night... And you...you just..." Her words dissolved into quiet weeping as Takuya allowed the embrace to continue, his hands remaining gently placed on their heads - the calloused palm against the mother's wind-chapped hair contrasting with the delicate way he cradled the baby.
After several heartbeats, he eased her back with careful firmness. "There's no debt between us," he said, pressing another tin into her shaking hands. "Think of it as... an elder brother looking out for his kid sister. And what kind of brother asks for something in return for saving his own sister."
His usual smirk threatened to return as he added, "Now go home before I change my mind about the free samples. And try not to cry on them - salt ruins the flavor."
The woman laughed through her tears, wiping her face with her sleeve. She opened her mouth to speak, but Takuya shook his head. When she bowed deeply instead, her forehead nearly touching the snow, he gently guided her back up.
As she turned to leave, the baby's tiny fingers wrapped around Takuya's index finger with surprising strength. The mother paused at the square's edge, her tear-filled eyes softening as she looked at their joined hands.
"My name is Elara," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. She gently pressed her lips to Takuya's cheek in a motherly kiss. "Thank you... not just for saving your little sister... but for giving this old widow her heart back." Her calloused hand came up to cradle Takuya's face with unexpected tenderness.
"When you touched her... the way you held her... I saw it in your eyes. Thank you," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "For saving your sister... for giving this broken family another chance. You have a healer's hands... and a brother's heart."
The baby cooed happily, refusing to let go of Takuya's finger. Elara smiled through her tears. "Look how she knows her big brother already." She hesitated, then asked softly, "Will you... will you come see her sometimes? Let her grow up knowing that she has an elder brother who saved her life?"
She didn't wait for an answer, simply pressed the baby's tiny hand to her lips before turning away. "We'll be at the blue house by the old mill," she called over her shoulder, voice thick with hope. "Whenever you want to visit your sister... you'll always be welcome."
The villagers watched in respectful silence as Elara disappeared into the snowy streets, her steps lighter than they'd been in years. The baby slept peacefully in her arms, one tiny hand still clutching the air where Takuya's finger had been—as if already reaching for her brother's return.
Mira, who had watched the entire exchange with uncharacteristic silence, finally arched an eyebrow. "Master~ That was almost—"
"Eight weeks no cookies if you finish that sentence," Takuya cut in sharply, his voice like cracking ice as he continued packing up. His hands moved with deliberate intensity, each motion precise and controlled. "And if you actually have the nerve to joke about a mother's suffering, maybe I should throw you overboard right now."
Mira's playful smirk vanished instantly, her crimson eyes widening at the uncharacteristic venom in Takuya's voice. She took an involuntary step back, her usual teasing demeanor evaporating like morning mist as the market square fell unnaturally silent around them.
"You think I'd—" Her voice caught in her throat as she saw the dangerous glint in Takuya's eyes. For the first time since joining him, genuine fear flickered across her face.
Her fingers twisted nervously in her skirt as she stammered, "M-Master, I would never—I just… I just wanted to lighten the wood." The words died as her voice dropped to a whisper. "I've never seen you like this before. Caring for someone like that."
Takuya's hands stilled on the packing supplies, his knuckles whitening around a jar of spices until the glass threatened to crack. The air grew thick with tension as villagers froze mid-celebration, caught between gratitude and sudden unease.
When he finally spoke, his voice was dangerously quiet yet carried across the silent square: "You live in a world where people like her exist."
His chin jerked toward where Elara had disappeared. "People who've lost everything but still find the strength to love." His dark eyes locked onto Mira's with terrifying intensity. "Don't. Ever. Joke. About that."
Mira's usual confidence shattered completely. She swallowed hard, mouth opening and closing before bowing her head in genuine contrition. "I'm sorry," she murmured, the unfamiliar words heavy with realization.
"You're right. That was... I was wrong. I should have realised this wasn't the right time or place, and I sincerely apologise for coming out as insensitive."
The wooden crate creaked under Takuya's grip as he added in a low, deliberate tone: "That woman carried her dying child through snow for help. She'd have given her last breath for one more day with that baby." His gaze pinned her in place. "You want to joke? Make it about stolen cookies. Never about people like her."
As Takuya studied her reaction, the villagers exchanged glances—they'd glimpsed two unexpected truths today: their mysterious healer's profound compassion, and the fiery protectiveness that guarded it.
When he finally returned to packing with a sharp nod, his movements were louder than necessary, the clatter of jars echoing his lingering intensity.
Mira worked beside him in uncharacteristic silence, her usual playful glint replaced by thoughtful solemnity. Yet when she thought no one noticed, her eyes flickered toward Elara's path with an expression caught between shame and dawning understanding.
And though Takuya's face remained stern, his hands were unexpectedly gentle as he tucked away the last healing cookies—those same hands that had cradled life back into a dying child, now carefully preserving hope for others in need.
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