The Tanaka Family Reincarnates

Not just the boy, Harold stroked all the gathered children’s heads roughly and said sorry repeatedly. Now that their bellies were full and Harold’s wounds were okay, sleepiness washed over the children as their hearts felt at ease.

“You guys, too, just stay here for tonight. There’s no good wandering around outside at this hour after all.”

And just like that, the three siblings gradually fell asleep before they knew it when they’re still talking with the man. The three siblings, who slept without difficulties even without a soft bed and warm quilt, have very insensitive body nerves.

・・・

The next morning, Emma was the first one to wake up.

It just happened that Emma’s face was where the morning sun directly shone on from the hole in the ceiling. She woke up because it’s too bright.

“Umm… Martha… so bright… hn?”

Feeling strange that it’s not the feeling of her usual soft bed, Emma opened her eyes.

The sight of George and William sleeping huddled together reminded her of what happened the day before.

“…eh?”

She couldn’t find the man’s figure.

Although he doesn’t have any big wounds, it should have taken a little longer before he could move around.

Emma stretched lightly to move her stiff body and stood up, wondering where the man went.

“Ouch!”

“Ah, sorry.”

The children were sleeping in the middle, so Emma accidentally stepped on one of them.

“What are you doin’?”

The boy who got stepped on looked at Emma while rubbing his eyes.

“I was just thinking that Harold-san is not here, huh.”

“Brother? Ah, he probably went painting nearby, no?”

“Paint? Paint what? Eh, heyy?”

The boy went back to sleep again as if he was sucked into dreamland, leaving Emma no choice but to leave the room by herself to check where the man is.

The light was shining through from the entrance of the next room. It’s many times brighter than the room Emma was in before.

Emma squinted her eyes from the dazzling light and peeked into the room.

“Uwa—”

The next room’s front wall has entirely collapsed. It is supposed to be blindingly bright.

The blue sky spread out in front of her eyes.

“Oh? Did I wake you up?”

Harold noticed Emma and turned his face facing her.

“Eh? What’s this? It’s amazing!”

The wall behind Harold was entirely painted in bright colors.

The realistic and subtle touches on the painting that could make one feel as if one’s in a botanical garden weren’t something she could possibly think of as a work of an amateur.

“Fufufu, it’s good, right?”

The man proudly showed Emma the wall he’s using as a canvas.

“Yes. It’s like the real thing! You can draw the perspective accurately, and the casting of shadows in the paintings doesn’t feel off… Above all, the colors are splendid. No matter what paint you use, it’s hard to produce such bright colors, isn’t it?”

“Hm?? Oh, ooh.”

The man looked at Emma blankly.

He was surprised at her unexpected professional compliment.

Hue told him that they were children from another slum, but as long as he remembered their conversation from last night, he felt they were well educated and could think and decide for themselves like an adult.

“You, what are you?”

Harold stared at Emma with suspicion.

‘Fufufu,’ Emma stared back at the man, looking satisfied.

It was just as I had thought.

Hue called him ‘Big Brother,’ but in fact, the boy and Harold’s age difference seems farther than that of siblings or that of parent-child.

Only Emma, with the spider on her head, was secretly aware.

Perhaps even without the spider, she would notice it with her own innate abilities.

Although he is all skin and bones, he has intelligent-looking orange pupils and unkempt hair with a darker shade of orange. She could tell now that he stands up that he has a tall height.

He is quite a handsome uncle.

(T/N: Emma used the same word she used to describe the King: “ikeoji” or ikemen oji-san. It actually means cool old man or handsome old man, but I think Harold isn’t that old to be called old man, so I used the word “uncle” on him.)

If the King is a wild, muscular-type cool old man, then the man in front of me is an intelligent subculture-type handsome uncle? The withered feeling he gives off is also good in its own way.

“Hey, hey, show me what you’re painting.”

The colorful paintings were painted with the same type of ink as the red ink spilled on the front of Joshua’s store. They were about to reach their purpose unknowingly, but before that was Emma, who, rather than that, was more eager to see the figure of a handsome uncle painting seriously.