As soon as I left the research building, I headed toward the kitchen.
The children were fasting starting this evening.
Dr. Ross’s instructions were that because they had procedures involving anesthesia, they were not to eat anything from the previous evening onward.
In other words, today’s lunch was the children’s last meal.
They would be unable to eat properly tonight, tomorrow, and probably for a while after that because of the aftereffects.
I couldn’t stop the brutal surgery tomorrow, but at the very least, couldn’t I give them one last solid meal?
When I opened the kitchen door, the cook bowed his head.
"Director, what brings you here?"
"What’s on the children’s lunch menu today?"
At my abrupt question, the cook hesitated for a moment.
"Ah, they’ve already been switched back to a regular diet after the quarantine, so we had moved them to a normal meal... but because of the guidance that came down from Research, we were preparing vegetable soup and bread for now."
I let that sink in for a moment.
Vegetable soup and bread...
That was supposed to be the children’s last meal before they couldn’t eat again tonight.
"Excuse me, but could you change the menu? If possible, make it a bit more substantial. Ideally, include some meat and focus on warmer dishes."
The cook looked troubled.
"Director, I’m sorry, but the menu was already set based on the nutrition department’s and research team’s plans, so it’s a little difficult to change it on our own...."
"You know the two children are fasting starting this evening, don’t you?"
The cook blinked.
"It’s a personal reason, but I’d still like to have them eat something filling, even if only a little, for tomorrow."
The cook hesitated for a moment.
Research had clearly issued instructions to prepare a light, easy-to-digest menu because the children had tests tomorrow, and now the director had suddenly come in and told him to feed them well.
Still, when the higher-ups told you to do something, you did it. He reluctantly nodded.
"...Understood. I’ll prepare something as best I can."
"Thank you."
About thirty minutes later, the cook had completely replaced the menu and brought it before me again.
The lunch he prepared was far more thoughtful than I expected.
There was a rich cream soup made from kabocha squash, warm brioche rolls brushed with butter and baked until golden, meatballs made by finely mincing meat and shaping it into little pearl-like balls with sauce, and even a jelly-like dessert that the children would probably like.
It was substantial enough to count as a proper meal, while still not being burdensome before surgery.
The cook had clearly put real thought into it.
"Will this satisfy you?"
"Hmm, very nice."
At my reaction, the cook let out a relieved breath as if he’d been worried.
As I pushed the cart of food down the hallway, I thought for a moment.
Once the children ate this today, they wouldn’t be able to eat anything until tomorrow.
And tomorrow morning, they would have to go into that laboratory.
What should I say to them....
That was when it happened.
Herman was walking toward me from the end of the corridor.
When he saw me, he stopped and bowed his head.
"Master."
Then he looked at the food on the cart.
Kabocha cream soup, brioche rolls, meatballs, dessert.
Herman’s eyes lingered on it for a moment before narrowing slightly.
It was only natural.
When Research had notified us of tomorrow’s examination schedule, they would also have issued instructions to make tonight’s dinner a fast and today’s lunch a light menu that wouldn’t burden the surgery.
Herman must have received those instructions and passed them on to the cook.
But what was on the cart now was completely different from that guidance.
Herman looked at the cart again, then back at me, repeating the motion once more.
Then he spoke quietly.
"...Did you change it yourself, Master?"
"Yes."
Herman was silent for a moment.
"You know the two of them are fasting starting this evening, yes?"
"I know."
"This is different from the menu Research sent down."
"I know."
Herman said nothing else.
It wasn’t a reprimand for breaking instructions, nor was it an attempt to let it slide. It was a strangely neutral silence.
Then he bowed his head briefly and said, "...You’ve prepared a fine last meal."
I looked at him for a moment.
His tone was casual.
But somehow, it felt like there was something more hidden inside that one sentence.
"That’s how it should be."
Herman said nothing more and walked past me with his head lowered.
I watched his back for a moment.
That man was Umbrella’s liaison, and he would report every one of these actions without fail.
But strangely enough, I didn’t care much about that look today.
Fine. Let him report that I made sure the children had one last proper meal.
I pushed the cart again.
When I knocked on Alfred’s door, he answered at once.
"Come in."
When I opened the door, Alfred was sitting neatly at his desk, reading a book.
He was calmly turning the pages, absorbed in it.
That surprised me.
I’d expected him to be trembling with anxiety, or sitting there dazed, or at the very least playing with some toy to calm himself down.
"I brought lunch."
I set the food down on the table beside the desk.
Alfred looked at the dishes on the table and froze for a moment.
But he didn’t say anything.
He quietly closed the book and moved to sit down.
The cover of the book Alfred had been reading said [Museum Compendium, Volume 1].
It was thick enough that it seemed more like something Alexia would read than Alfred.
"Where did you get that book?"
Alfred looked up.
"I borrowed it from Alexia."
"Why?"
"She said that if I read something long and complicated, it helps calm me down."
Something long and complicated to calm the mind...
He must have grabbed onto something to keep his thoughts from filling up entirely with tomorrow.
"Do you understand the content?"
"Honestly, I don’t understand even half of it. But just looking at it makes me feel a little better."
I looked at him for a moment.
He was far calmer than I expected.
Alfred quietly picked up his spoon.
He didn’t glance around or try to start a conversation.
He just ate in silence.
He wasn’t a particularly talkative child to begin with, but seeing him this quiet made me even more concerned.
After eating for a while, Alfred spoke softly.
"Father."
"Yes?"
"Will it hurt a lot tomorrow too?"
His tone was less a question than a muttered thought.
"To be honest, last time it hurt so much I had trouble walking for a while. I hope it won’t be that bad this time... heh."
He was forcing a smile on the surface, but I couldn’t pretend not to know what was behind it.
I was silent for a moment.
Honestly, it was hard to say for certain.
I wanted to tell him it wouldn’t hurt too much.
But as long as tomorrow’s experiment went ahead unchanged, saying that would have been a lie.
No matter how much anesthesia they used, they were still going to insert a huge needle into his back and cut into living flesh. There was no way that wouldn’t hurt.
I had managed to persuade them to change the way things would be done going forward, but tomorrow itself was still the same.
"...It might hurt."
Alfred nodded as if he’d already prepared himself for that much.
Even though I hadn’t lied, I still felt heavy inside.
I thought for a moment, then slowly spoke.
"Alfred."
"Yes?"
"But pain always has an end."
Alfred looked up.
"No matter how hard it is, it will end eventually. And when it does, I’ll be right beside you. We’ll eat together at the same table again, and I’ll read with Alexia too."
Alfred just looked at me without saying anything.
"It’s only natural that you’re scared. Honestly, even most adults would find this very hard and frightening."
Alfred’s eyes wavered slightly.
"Are you scared too, Father?"
"Of course. And not just because of the pain of the surgery. A child’s pain is also a parent’s pain."
Alfred listened for a moment, then quietly nodded.
And then he picked up his spoon again.
This child didn’t need many words.
Just saying I’d stay beside him was enough.
We were nearly done eating.
Alfred carefully reached for the dessert.
He took a bite.
A brief silence followed.
"...I’ll try really hard to bear it. I’ll try really hard, and... I won’t cry in front of you, Father."
For the first time today, his expression loosened a little.
I lowered my gaze as if I hadn’t seen it.
What on earth had a five-year-old done to deserve saying something so solemn?
Just as I was about to stand up, Alfred called out softly.
"Father."
"Yes?"
"Could I ask one thing?"
I stopped.
"Go ahead."
Alfred looked down at the dessert for a moment, then raised his head carefully.
"Tomorrow... could you stay beside me?"
I looked at the child for a moment.
He had called it a request.
For this child to ask Alexander for something was clearly a heavy thing to say.
The usual Alexander had pushed Alfred away like this before, so for Alfred to make such a request of me was not something he could say lightly.
"Yes. I’ll stay beside you. Even if you’re scared, I’ll be there, and if it gets too hard, I’ll talk to you from beside you, so you don’t have to endure it alone."
Whether those words comforted him or not, Alfred gave a small nod.
Then he picked up the book he had quietly set aside again.
I closed the door softly.
Staying beside him tomorrow... Those few words, which seemed so small, felt especially heavy today.
'I’ll show them I can stand tall.'
If that child was saying that, then I couldn’t afford to collapse.
When I knocked on Alexia’s door, she answered at once.
When I opened it, Alexia was also seated at her desk, reading a book.
And the book she was reading was the same one Alfred had been reading.
[Museum Compendium - Volume 4]
More precisely, Alexia had been reading it first, and Alfred had come looking for her, so she probably recommended it to him as well.
When she saw me, she closed the book and turned her head.
She didn’t say anything, but she closed the book a little faster than usual.
There was no particular surprise in her eyes.
She just looked as though the person she’d expected had arrived, though at the same time, it seemed like she had been waiting.
Then Alexia’s gaze stopped on the food on the cart.
"There’s a lot more food than usual today."
"Yes."
"I don’t need to ask why."
If anything, that was exactly the kind of response I’d expect from Alexia.
She sat down as if nothing was wrong and, with neat posture, took a spoonful of soup.
A brief silence passed.
"Where’s Alfred?"
"I just came from his room."
"Was he very scared?"
I thought for a moment.
"He seemed calm."
Alexia nodded.
"I told him reading a book helps a little, so he asked to borrow one."
So Alexia had been the one to take care of that first.
"Good job."
Alexia said nothing and picked up her spoon again.
Another brief silence passed.
Then, taking another spoonful of soup, Alexia spoke quietly.
"Father."
"Yes?"
"What are you going to do from here on?"
I let that sink in for a moment.
"What do you mean?"
"Even if tomorrow’s examination ends, there’ll be another one next month. And then another after that, and another after that. I don’t know how long this will go on, but you can’t keep changing and removing items every time, can you?"
It was a sharp question. And it wasn’t wrong.
Just because I’d persuaded Dr. Ross today didn’t mean it would work next time too.
No, if anything, because I’d tried to change so much this time, I couldn’t safely predict how things would unfold next.
"I’m thinking about that part for now."
Alexia looked at me for a moment.
"More specifically?"
"...I do have something in mind, but I think it’s too early for you to understand."
It was an honest answer.
Alexia, hearing that, briefly turned her gaze toward the notebook.
"Then that’s a relief. While Father is thinking, I’ve been thinking in my own way too."
"In what direction?"
"Changing the examination items isn’t a fundamental solution. In the end, what you want is a way to give the company the data it wants while reducing the burden on us, isn’t it?"
This child had already figured out the whole situation as it unfolded.
She even knew exactly what I had been thinking.
I had written in the original Alexander’s notes that he feared Alexia’s insight.
That gaze that saw through other people’s thoughts—this must have been what the original Alexander had feared.
But I was different.
That insight didn’t frighten me. If anything, it was reassuring.
"Yes. That’s right."
Alexia nodded and continued.
"Then all we need to do is find a way for the researchers to get the data they want without examining us directly."
"Have you thought of any specific method for that?"
Alexia looked at her notebook for a moment.
"Not yet. But I’ll think about it."
"Good. I’ll think about it too, so let’s look for a solution together."
Alexia nodded and picked up her spoon again.
We were nearly finished with the meal.
Alexia looked at her plate for a moment, then casually picked up dessert and took a bite.
She just chewed in silence, saying nothing.
But after a moment, she quietly took another piece.
Still not saying it tastes good today either.
I stood up.
"Eat well."
"Yes."
Just as I was about to close the door, she spoke.
"Father."
I stopped.
Alexia kept her gaze on the book she had been reading a moment ago as she said, "I have one request."
I looked at the child for a moment.
It was rare for Alexia to be the one to bring up a request first.
"Go ahead."
"I’m reading Museum Compendium Volume 4 right now, but after tomorrow’s examination, while I’m hospitalized, could you bring Volume 5 from the library?"
I looked at the child for a moment.
After tomorrow’s examination, while I’m hospitalized...
This child was already looking beyond tomorrow.
It wasn’t that she wasn’t afraid of what would happen tomorrow, and it wasn’t that she wasn’t scared either.
She was simply preparing for what came after tomorrow ended.
That was how Alexia endured this place.
"Yes. I’ll borrow it for you."
Alexia gave a short nod.
"Thank you."
I quietly closed the door.
Left alone in the hallway, I looked at the two closed doors.
Both children were preparing for tomorrow in their own way.
Which meant I had to prepare too, so I wouldn’t fall short of their expectations.
I pulled my jacket closed and walked down the hall.
Then a vague thought crossed my mind.
'That Museum Compendium book... I feel like I’ve seen it somewhere before. Or is that just my imagination?'
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