Then Yen jerked a thumb toward the yellow-haired chaos engine still rubbing the back of his head. "And that one over there—that's Romi. Our friend."
He hesitated. Then looked at her again, this time with a slight dip of remorse in his voice.
"I'm really, really sorry. Because of Romi, you… well, you're probably having a pretty bad day."
Kaya looked at Yen while he spoke. He seemed mature and calm, his voice polite and steady like someone who had everything figured out. But to Kaya, it didn't mean much. She had seen this kind of man before.
The type who acted respectful, who knew just the right words to say. But behind that calm voice was something else—something she didn't trust.
She didn't say anything.
Didn't smile.
She just turned around and walked away.
The three men stood there, caught off guard. Yen's face tensed slightly. Ran looked confused. Romi blinked, clearly unsure of what just happened.
But Kaya didn't care.
She kept walking, heading toward the river she remembered hearing about. Her steps were steady, quiet. She didn't look back.
She'd met men like that when she worked as a waitress years ago—men who smiled too easily, who spoke too kindly. They all seemed harmless at first. But they were always the ones who turned out to be the worst.
So no.
Thanks.
As Kaya walked toward the river, more men tried to talk to her. Some spoke loudly, trying to show off. Others used sweet words, trying to flirt. A few spoke gently, like they were being kind. But none of it mattered to her. Their smiles felt fake. Their words empty. Not one of them felt sincere.
She didn't need to hear more to know they didn't truly care. They just wanted something from her.
So, she ignored them.
She reached the river, washed herself quietly, and changed into the hide cloth a local woman had given her. It barely covered her chest and thighs, but she didn't care. She had worn bikinis before—this was nothing. Let them stare. She wasn't here for approval.
Later, it was time for food. Kaya didn't want to go, but the women in the group gently pushed her to come out and join. She gave in, mostly because she didn't want to argue.
When the food was placed in front of her, she stared at the bowl, stunned.
Carrots.
She blinked.
Carrot soup?
No... not even soup. Just boiled carrots and a few wild vegetables floating in salty water. No flavor, no richness—nothing.
She raised the bowl to her lips and took a small sip.
And that was enough.
She wanted to scream. Not because it tasted bad—but because she had joked earlier that these people probably just eat carrots. Now the joke had come to life, and she wasn't laughing.
Still, everyone around her looked at her with proud smiles, like they had just served her a royal feast.
So she said nothing.
She was too tired to argue and too hungry to complain.
Then her eyes wandered, and she saw him—Cutie.
He was served last. His bowl was half the size of everyone else's, barely filled with cloudy water and a few scraps of vegetables. The person who served him didn't say a word but looked at him with cold, annoyed eyes.
Cutie didn't react. He just quietly took the bowl and walked away to sit under a nearby tree, a bit farther from everyone else.
Kaya's hands paused.
A memory hit her like a wave.
She saw herself as a child—her mother pushing a cold plate of leftover food from two days ago into her hands, telling her to eat quietly in the corner while she and Kaya's sister ordered a grand meal from a five-star hotel.
It was the same kind of silence. The same kind of loneliness.
Kaya's grip on the bowl tightened.
She looked back at Cutie, who was quietly eating without complaint.
As the men beside Kaya kept talking and smiling at her, she didn't respond. Her eyes were fixed on the boy—Cutie—who was sitting alone under the tree. Then, without a word, she stood up.
The sudden movement caught everyone off guard. The men blinked, confused. Some of the women paused mid-bite, eyes following her.
Kaya didn't care. She walked straight toward the boy, ignoring the stares and whispers around her. Just a few steps, and she was standing in front of him.
Cutie was quietly eating, hunched over his small bowl. When he looked up and saw her, his eyes widened in surprise.
Behind her, one of the men stood up, unsure what was happening. Another man rushed over from the side, speaking quickly.
"Miss, is something wrong?"
But Kaya didn't even glance at him.
Instead, she looked down at the boy and asked, her voice tinged with frustration, "Why are you sitting here?"
Her ears twitched slightly, her anger not fully hidden.
Cutie looked up, startled, flustered. "Is… is there something wrong?" he asked softly.
Kaya repeated, this time louder, "Why are you sitting here?"
Ren, trying to ease the tension, laughed awkwardly behind her. "Um… Kaya, everything's fine, right? Let's just eat. Maybe he—"
But Kaya didn't turn. She kept her gaze on the boy and asked again, firm and clear, "Why are you sitting here alone?"
Now even Ren and Yen, who had been grinning the whole day, dropped their smiles.
They couldn't believe it.
This woman—who had ignored them completely since the moment she arrived—was now openly brushing them off in front of the entire tribe. No one had ever done that before, especially not to the sons of the tribe leader. Women usually chased after them. But this one?
She was different.
When Cutie didn't answer, Kaya's eyes softened just slightly. She glanced at the space beside him, then without hesitation, sat down next to him.