“Tag you’re it!” 

The local children my age seem to enjoy playing in a muddy clearing near the field. The spot they like to jump around on is near an icky part of the irrigation. The snotty little children noticed me looking at them, and like any other child, they stared right back at me.

I awkwardly smiled, gave them a wave, and moved on. I don’t know if it's against the Instructions for a brand-new noble to play with their subjects. But, whether it is allowed or not, I still refuse to make friends with children like what my siblings would’ve wanted because I am a grown adult stuck in a child’s body.

“Good day, lord Arys.” a couple of farmhands bowed as I walked down the path toward our house. It is not the season yet but they are preparing the lands to be sowed, so they are trimming and clearing the landscape.

I nodded, smiled, and waved at them, too. The good people of the newly named town of Everkind are accustomed to seeing us newly appointed nobles of this town. Because before we were upstart highborns, we were Howie and Imelda’s children.

Along the path, I saw our housekeeper walking in the opposite direction. I ran to her, “Lottie!”

“Oh, my,” Lottie smiled, paused, and bowed, “Playing with other children, lord Arys?”

I chuckled nervously, “No, I went to town to find someone,” I couldn’t help but notice the basket she was carrying, “What’s that?”

“Lady Hearth asked me to buy some herbs, I assume she is cooking your favorite meal!” Her old grandma's voice sounds soothing.

“Oh, hamburger steak?” yummy, I wonder what’s the occasion.

“Oh yes,” she said, “She said it will help you grow and quickly recover if you eat something you’d like!”

But it has been a day since I got out of the hospital, “Well, there’s a lot of people down at the plaza. They’re still preparing for the ceremony. So, be careful!”

“Of course, lord Arys, always.” Lottie lowers her head as she smiles before she starts pacing.

“By the way, Lottie,” she stops on her track, “Have you seen one of our guests staying at the mansion?”

“Which one, my lord?”

I try recalling some details, “I’ve been looking for him since yesterday, but it seems we are always missing each other…”

Lottie smiles, “Do you have a name? I’d be happy to help.”

“An old man named Adi, an artist from Godglade, a friend of Papa?” 

“The pervert?!” Lottie’s soft composure suddenly breaks, and her eyes become furious, accompanied by pouting lips.

It caught me off guard, I only saw this woman lose her cool twice, stories I am not proud to tell but certainly related to her reaction.

Lottie clears her throat, “Excuse me,” she immediately controls herself, “Yes, Adi, the other housekeepers have been reporting me about that old man, something needs to be done with him, lord Arys!”

I smiled awkwardly, “What’s wrong…?”

Lottie defeatedly sighs, “That old man is a… excuse my bluntness, a peeping tom!”

A peeping tom… How old is this guy, “Is that so… I will see to it then…”

“Oh, lord Arys!” Lottie giggles before she could pinch my cheeks, “I have told lady Hearth, it seems he’ll be kicked out of the mansion!”

I caressed my cheeks as she stopped pinching, “Wait, but I need to talk to him! Where is he now?”

“Oh,” Lottie placed her finger on her cheeks, thinking, “I believe he’s on his way out, my lord.”

“Ah!” I exclaimed, “Thank you, Lottie!” I started sprinting as fast as I could. 

“Uh, good luck, lord Arys!” her voice faded as our distance grew apart.

I ran as fast as I could, sweating and heaving for air. My puny legs were sore when I arrived at our gates, damn these weak juvenile legs! Exhausted, I soldier on at our long pathway towards the mansion. A few other housekeepers and servants approached me as they saw my poor state, they must’ve thought something was wrong with me, but I was only fatigued by my effort. Sometimes, I forget that my body is weak and young.

“Lord Arys, what’s wrong?” a servant said as she handed me a glass of water.

I took the glass of water from her and shot it straight into my system, it had a taste of lemon, “Whe- where’s Adi, the painter, Papa’s friend, the–”

“The pervert?!” they said in unison, shocked, their tones suggest they’ve been offended by this old man.

“Yes!” I gasped.

One of them points at the back of the mansion, “He’s still there!” her eyes grew furious, “Saying his farewell to your parents,”

“Thanks!” I said as I resumed sprinting. So, he’s still here after all. My sweaty self did not enter the mansion but instead went through the side of our house where I accidentally tumbled into some of the topiaries.

The vastness of this line-up of well-pruned bushes stings as the sharp edges of their prickly branches pierced through my skin, wounding me in not-so-lethal ways. But it sure does hurt. I could hear the snapping of twigs and random dried leaves as I blindly made my way to the backyard grounds where our parents were buried.

I couldn’t imagine myself running like this in my old life. In the past, I would’ve avoided the outside world, typically because of people ridiculing my father. To me, going outside equates to a chore, a very despicable affair. 

But eight years in this world, a renewed sense of youth has given me a chance to relive and try out things I never did in the past; like running. Maybe I should’ve played with those kids earlier. Maybe I should’ve tried living more, too.

Alas, as I stepped on the backyard grounds, I accidentally knocked a marble bust. I stumbled and it shattered into a thousand pieces and became an indiscernible dusts and rubble.

“Oh no!” I quickly jump back on my feet.

On the horizon, beyond the flowerbeds and shrubbery, a man stands somberly. He stood before Howie and Imelda’s gravestone, it is under the shade of a single tree guarded by small picket fences painted blue.

“Adi!” I shouted, my throat almost hurt. With my remaining stamina, I propelled towards him. My legs gave up as I finally reached the shade.

Wind blows, I gasp for the air. Adi, still not facing me, grunts, “I assume you’re here to see me out?”

“No,” tired, I knelt on the grass, “I came here to talk to you”

“Talk to me?” his head glanced a little, “It’s been so long since someone initiated a conversation with me…” 

I didn’t understand what he meant by that, “What?”

“Lady Hearth has given me a day to sort my things out, she said I need to leave… Accusing me of peeping the female servants’ bathroom… What nonsense…”

Still breathing heavily, my tone became curious, “Well… did you?”

“I was in their bathroom, yes,” he admitted, “But not because of their neglected bodies, no,” he turns around to face me.

My eyes widened, feelings unexplainable.

In front of me is Adi, his torsowear’s front is a sewed-in blouse for women, its breasts area are scissored off leaving a considerable hole that exposes his old man chesthairs and nipples.

“Behold!” he shouted proudly, “Fashion!”

My eyes twitched in disbelief, ‘F-fashion?”

Adi did a pose, “For years, I have been making art with colorful paints, brushes, and canvasses, but one day, I realized, maybe I could be more than a painter. I am an artist after all!” he strike a different pose, “I, Adi the Painter, will be now be known as…”

He unzips his baggy pants, “N-no!” I squealed.

But what unveils is another layer of clothing. A tight pair of ripped leather pants with strands of what looks like horse hair on the hems. 

“Adi the Fashionable!” he did a series of poses and finished with one where he spread his limbs apart while looking up the sky.

He maintained the pose then the crickets chirp.

“Eh…?” I broke the silence, awkwardly smiling. Maybe, it is a mistake asking for his help.

Before I could step away from him, he released a heavy sigh, “What do you want?”

“Well, uh– What are you doing here?”

“I was just saying goodbye to my old friend here,” Adi coughs, “Lady Hearth kicked me out, can you believe it… kicking out an old man,”

“Well, I guess it’s normal to kick someone out of your house if they did something awful…” I look around idly, avoiding eye contact with the weirdo.

“Who are you?” Adi asked, looking at me closely.

“I’m Arys… Were you the one who made their portrait?” I pointed at the gravestones.

“The painting? Yes, what about it, I don’t take apprentices even if you’re Howie’s child!” he shook his head, “If you weren’t listening just now, I’m a fashion… designer!”

I chuckled awkwardly, “N-no… I just want to ask, how did you paint it so… Realistic?”

“Well, I used magic, of course!” Adi scoffs and grabs his pants on the floor.

“Magic? Is that allowed…?”

Adi wears his baggy pants, concealing his ripped creation, “Why not?! You think anything here, in this mansion, in this town, in this whole wide world is done by doing sheer hardwork and wishful thinking?” 

Before I could answer, he waved his arms around, “No!” he shouted, “Everything is made with mana and magic energy, everything we see, touch, and smell is magic!” he threw himself on the grass and sat near Howie’s grave, “Even your big mansion over there and the magical mysterious wealth you have.”

Surprised, I spouted, “Huh?!”