Gun Girl from Another World

Dusting

*Mei*

After what feels like forever, we finally have a roof over our heads again. It's a decently large house, but not so large that my brother and I don't have to share a room. There are only four bedrooms in the entire place, and Tan and Mitoro share one, with Iana and Aiele sharing another. The fourth is being used for storage.

In truth, ours had been in use as storage, as well, and one of the first things we were charged with doing was helping to clear it out and get it ready for us. The room is as big as a double room we might have found at an inn, which means it's big enough for us to have our own chests of drawers and our own beds, even if it's far smaller than what we had back home. Still, compared to a bed of pine needles, it's paradise, and neither of us have dared complain.

Mataru is out adventuring. No, that's wrong. I pause in what I'm doing and mentally correct myself. Arisu is out adventuring. I don't know anyone named Mataru. My brother and the others are clearing out an infestation of giant rats in a nearby hamlet.

Tan had originally wanted him to establish himself with his weapon and fighting style before taking him on combat missions, even in a support role. Of course, my brother met the party leader's expectations with such speed that everyone celebrated him as a prodigy.

Natural talent was the only logical explanation, of course, as Arisu had certainly never been trained by some of the best tutors in the empire, only by an exacting father. Aiele says that he has a talent for magic, as well, something he and I certainly never had the resources to have learned beforehand. She's already started teaching him an acceleration spell that will allow him a burst of speed that he can combine with his lunges to help make up for his size.

I, Ayumi, spend my time keeping the house in order. The girls help with the laundry, but it is up to me to get it off of the lines when it finishes drying. Dishes are also my responsibility, but nothing terrible if I stay on top of them. I'm currently sweeping the floor, one of the two most time-consuming tasks on my list of chores, but even it isn't too much work when I'm maintaining it every day. After that, I'll switch to dusting, the other time-consuming chore.

If I were a noble named Mei, this kind of work would be inexcusable. Even with my mother's love of breaking convention, she left such menial chores to the staff that she paid very well to take care of such things. But it doesn't hurt my pride to do these things, because I'm not a noble named Mei. I'm an orphan named Ayumi, and this labor is to pay for my room and board. And for an orphan who was living on the road not that long ago, this is nothing.

I take care of the cooking, too. I don't have to, and originally, it was a group effort after everyone got back, but they would be gone all day, or just outside training. Either way, they'd come back drained on any day that wasn't a day off. I decided that, if nothing else, I could get things started so that the prep work was done, but it was a small step from there, it turned out, to just finishing it, myself, so that they could come home to a hot meal.

I'm not the cook that my mother was, or that Remmi, that yellow-haired adventurer, was, either. I have to buy bread from in town, because baking it is beyond me for now, but stews are easy just so long as you remember to taste them as you go. I can wash and peel vegetables and chop and sear meat, so the preparatory work goes alright.

Sometimes, I worry that they might get sick of stew all of the time, so I started practicing roasts, but Tan actually said recently that he looks forward to my stew after a tiring mission. Arisu agreed, so maybe I'm overthinking it. I'd still like to have more variety, but even with these simple dishes, I'm still getting the System notice that I lack the Cooking proficiency.

Pushing my luck could have disastrous consequences for everyone. But, then again, if I don't push, then I will never improve. The level of those people that I admire will never be within my reach if I forever play it safe.

I finish sweeping and push the last of the debris out the back door, then shut it and put the broom away. I tighten my apron and reach for the dusting stick. If I had still been in the rags that had once been our traveling clothes, I wouldn't have bothered with the apron, but the party had insisted on getting Arisu and I both a whole set of fresh clothes. It is a far cry from noble attire, but it isn't poor clothing, either, and I don't want to soil it needlessly.

As it is, I still wear a baggy overshirt over my dress alongside the apron to minimize the risk to the dress. If I need to be presentable, I can quickly shed both with little fuss, along with the head cloth I have wrapped around my hair, and with a little stroking of my hair, be ready to greet guests at the door. That is something I have to occasionally do. As I am usually the only one home, receiving packages and messages also falls under my tasks.

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I am not entirely without time to myself, however. Indeed, the chores are often finished by midmorning, and dinner is not started until late afternoon, so the rest of the day's hours are mine to do with as I please. Sometimes, that is spent going into town for food and supplies, but more often, I spend it training, too. With no one around and the house to myself, I can practice magic without risking giving it away that I have a class.

It isn't a secret that I am studying magic. However, they believe that I am doing so in hopes of improving my status when I receive a class. Aiele has been very helpful in this, allowing me access to her books. She thinks I'm just reading the introductory texts, but she has a decent little library of tomes, and they'll serve well to diversify my spells beyond just my specialty of fire.

My brother wants to prepare himself to avenge our parents, and I refuse to fall behind just because I'm staying home. So once again, with the chores done, I do what I do most days and settle in for my own training regimen. I'll start with the theory, an hour or so of reading the tomes, and then I'll begin practicing the spell in actuality until I either learn it or exhaust my reserves.

I actually really enjoy studying magic. It's … well, it's magical. There is something special about asserting your will on your mana and watching the effect come into shape in the world around you. Flames have always been particularly enchanting, but I can watch any magical display for hours, then stay up late into the night trying to reproduce it. I'm rarely able to recreate the entire thing on my own, but it's always exciting to figure out even a fragment of it.

My study is disrupted by the ringing of the bell on the gate for the front yard fence. It's a convenient way to know when someone is coming … when things are quiet enough.

But who could be coming? I ponder the question as I pat myself down to get the wrinkles from sitting out of my dress and make my way over to the front door. Maybe it's Miss Elda. She is a neighbor with a fondness for baking. She often brings her extra over to share as an excuse to check in on me and make sure I'm doing okay. I've considered asking her to teach me how to bake, but haven't wanted to be troublesome.

I don't like opening the door ahead of the arrival of a guest. I feel like it makes me look overeager. So I've gotten into the habit of waiting at the door for them to knock. It's as a result of this that I hear voices that most definitely do not belong to Miss Elda.

"Yeah, I heard this is where a group of adventurers live!"

"That sounds like a deterrent if ever I heard one. If they're able to afford a place like this, they've got to be pretty strong, right?"

"Don't be such a coward! They're basically gone every day. They only come back to sleep, eat and shit. The place is as empty as an abandoned warehouse!"

"Yeah, and you know they don't take everything with them when they go. Just think of the things they must leave behind! Bars, rare drops, spare weapons! All just sitting there, waiting for someone to take them off their hands!"

"But if that stuff really is here, wouldn't they have protections?"

There's a laugh. "What, like that stupid little bell strapped to the fence?"

"Seriously, Gendo, if you're going to be such a baby, nobody's making you come in. Tell you what, since you're so terrified, why don't you keep watch so nothing catches us by surprise? Then you won't have anything to worry about!"

More laughter. "Yeah, that's a great idea! We'll totally split the cuts evenly and won't keep any of the really good stuff to ourselves!"

"Come on, guys, that's not funny! It's not just myself I'm worried about, here! There's gotta be a reason nobody's ever just strolled up and busted into this place before!"

"Yeah, they're all ball-less eunuchs afraid of door chimes!"

"Enough chatter. If we're going to do this, let's do it. The last thing we need is someone wandering by and actually seeing us. In and out!"

"You got it, chief! Here, let me do the knocking!"

At that, I take a few cautious steps back, something that immediately proves prescient as a heavy kick lands against the door. The portal buckles, but it takes a second kick to break through.

On the other side are three grown men, dressed in poor clothes and looking dirty. The one with his foot still raised has a brown vest over his gray shirt and has a bandana tied around his head. The man behind him is wearing a torn shirt and has a cheap knife on his hip. The third is a little slumped and seems to be balding prematurely. The first two have vicious eyes, while the third has eyes like a hungry, little rat.

From their perspective, there's a little girl in a dress covered by an apron, arcane energy flaring in her eyes as flames dance in her upraised palm. An aura of furious power wraps around her form.

"I just swept that," I complain flatly, though I doubt it comes across that way judging from the expressions of shock on their faces as they instinctively recoil.

"You said they were all gone," the rat-eyed one protested to the one in the middle. I assume the rat-eyed one is Gendo, the one in the middle is the "chief," and the big brute that just kicked in the door is the one that was doing all of the laughing.

I don't care. They've undone my hard work. I don't even give them time to process what they're looking at or to come up with a reply to the rat-eyed one's complaint.

"Enflame," I say tonelessly as I stretch my enlightened palm out toward them.

And the great gout of flames that roars forth belches from the doorway and out into the open air, fueled by all of my deep irritation that this scum had the gall to break into my home.