Chapter 7

All humans are equal.

Heaven does not create people above others.

Perhaps he was still clinging to the sense of a previous life where society sang of equality and fairness.

Well done, Sota!

From now on, you can navigate the world as a samurai!

The old man, excited, cheered and then, after slipping on the threshold, fell flat on his face, but Sota himself was left with a blank mind due to the sudden turn of events.

"In these times, we must educate promising children early, or our family will be left behind by the times."

Lord Sadaharu said this and, with the ease of changing a hanging scroll, sent a servant to Ibei of the Persimmon Tree Field and proceeded with the arrangements. By the time he noticed, his name was hanging under the surname "Hayashi."

(Hayashi... Sota?)

It felt incredibly wrong.

Despite the fact that this was a major event that would affect a child's life, there were no issues between the Hayashi family and Ibei, and the transfer was completed without any problems.

Perhaps, in an era where adoption for the continuation of a samurai family was a daily occurrence, there was little resistance. Besides, he was not an unrelated adopted child but a true blood relative.

It might have been a formality of transferring custody from his mother to his father.

"That's good. That's good, Souta..."

The old woman, with tears welling in her eyes, hugged him tightly. Though she was sad, she seemed to view this event as a celebration. Her smile never left her lips, even though he was ultimately just a low-ranking samurai.

The real issue was his mother, Haru.

"Souta..."

She wiped away her tears, which were on the verge of spilling, but stopped her arms mid-reach to pick him up, as if shaking off some intense emotion, and let out a low, Doppler-effect-like "uuuuu" before exiting through the back door.

Even though he was a 30-something man in a 3-year-old's body, this hit him hard. While being held by the old woman, he, too, began to cry uncontrollably.

Upon reflection, the father who had abandoned him was not even a factor. To him, Haru was the only parent.

The servants, Gen and Saburo, who had come to visit, offered a bag of rice and gold coins wrapped in a paper as a gift. This was probably the price for taking him. To him, who knew an era where human life was considered more valuable than the Earth, this price seemed like a bargain sale.

As he watched Saburo scratch his cheek while looking at the back door where Haru had disappeared, he felt a murderous intent, which he noted in his heart's ledger. This guy is really hopeless.

A 3-year-old has no personal belongings.

That day, he was taken to the Hayashi family in Fugen-shita and given a small room on the north side of a detached house, where he was told to live. It was probably a room that had been used by more servants in the past. The large room, which measured 12 tatami mats, was divided into a 3-tatami room with sliding doors.

It felt more like a conference room divided by partitions, but being given a private room was a special treatment for a child in this era. Gen, one of the servants, looked at him, standing in the middle of the room, dazed, and nodded knowingly.

"This is proof that the young master is highly regarded by the lord."

Reacting to the word "expectation," he turned around, and Gen pushed a bundle of old kimonos into his hands.

"…This is the young master's old clothes, as ordered by the lady of the house."

These were probably the clothes that Saburo had worn as a child. They were heavily patched but still better than any kimono in Ibei's house.

"The lord is waiting in the study. Go there as soon as you're ready."

There was nothing much to prepare.

As he tried to leave the room with the kimonos still on the floor, Gen hurriedly stopped him.

"Whoa, you can't go in like that!"

"???"

"Don't you understand why I brought the clothes? Take off that dirty apron... Ah, don't touch it with those dirty hands!"

Gen grabbed his hands and wiped them with a hand towel he took from his pocket. The slightly damp towel was as dirty as his hands and smelled quite strong. He let it happen, but he couldn't help but think his hands might be dirtier now.

After being stripped of the apron he had named "Kintaro Apron," he was left completely naked. A 3-year-old is naturally naked.

The kimono he was dressed in was like a yukata from his previous life. It was tie-dyed, and