Mistaken for a Masked Munchkin

Javert's Iron and Justice (9)

More than ten years in the past.

A story from the woman's childhood.

'Javert.'

That was the name of a stray child from the slums.

A child with filthy red hair and red eyes.

Abandoned by the world, she survived day by day among piles of trash.

"It's cold."

A young girl.

Around the age of ten, she had suddenly been thrown out onto the cold streets.

Javert clung to life as quietly as she could.

"It hurts, and I'm hungry..."

That winter was especially cold.

The worst cold wave to strike the Empire in nearly ten years.

The vagrants scattered across the streets had no choice but to die, one by one.

Javert was no different.

There was no way a stray child with nowhere to turn could make it through the winter.

Amid clusters of white snowflakes, the girl lay collapsed beside a trash-strewn road.

'So I'm going to freeze to death like this...'

Freezing to death.

Javert sensed death coming.

'I don't want to die.'

Her senses gradually blurred, and her consciousness faded like a dying ember.

The world covered the girl's life with winter as its coffin.

That was when she was freezing in the cold.

Through her half-dazed ears, she heard someone's voice.

"Child, are you all right?"

Srrk.

Warm body heat wrapped around Javert's body.

When she struggled to lift her eyelids, an old woman was holding her in her arms.

"You're in terrible condition."

"Stay still. I'll treat you so it won't hurt."

Hwaaaak-!

White light flashed across her vision.

Then a gentle warmth thawed the girl's body.

"I breathed a little divine energy into you."

"This should drive away the cold."

"Your small wounds should heal too."

Javert looked up at the old woman.

She was beautiful.

Should she say she was someone who did not belong in the slums?

Her movements carried dignity, and a certain elegance shimmered in her eyes.

So even though she was wrinkled and her hair had gone white, the girl thought the old woman was beautiful.

"Still, don't try to move yet, all right?"

"Your strength hasn't come back yet."

A person who had come like a miracle.

Soft clothes drew Javert fully into an embrace.

Her body was filthy from rolling around the slums, but the old woman did not seem to care.

"Serian! You were truly right."

"To think there would still be a child alive, even in a winter like this..."

Beside the old woman stood an old man dressed much like her.

Judging by their conversation, they seemed to be husband and wife.

A golden rosary hung from each of the old couple's necks.

In the face of the bitter cold wave, priests from the church had been dispatched to the slums.

"You endured so well in this awful cold."

"Warm yourself at the church for the time being."

Valter Droit.

Serian Droit.

The old couple introduced themselves in simple words.

Afterward, with Javert held in their arms, they turned toward a nearby church branch.

'It's warm...'

That winter, Javert stayed somewhere that was not cold.

Besides her, countless vagrants were able to get through the winter thanks to the church.

People abandoned by the world.

For the first time, the girl learned of the warmth hidden inside life.

Even while she stayed at the church, the old couple visited Javert often.

"Javert, how are you feeling?"

"I'm glad you seem so much livelier."

Had they pitied the girl, an orphan and stray child?

The two cared for Javert with all their hearts.

"Hm? Flowers? Are these for us?"

"Hoho, I'll have to treasure them for the rest of my life."

"I heard from the priest in charge. They said you were born with a talent for divine energy."

"How wonderful. With training, you could become a fine member of the church."

"You seem to like the cookies."

"I'll bring a little more next time."

"But in exchange, make sure you eat your meals properly!"

Time flew by like an arrow.

Javert safely made it through that winter.

Hiding the sadness in her heart, the girl prepared herself to return to the streets.

"Um, Javert..."

But,

Javert and the old couple's bond did not end there.

"If you're all right with it... would you like to live with us?"

"So, well. We're asking you to become our foster daughter."

"We want you to become our family."

The old woman asked as if she was a little nervous.

From that day on, the girl was no longer alone.

'Droit.'

A surname was added after her short name.

Javert Droit.

The girl sobbed in the old couple's arms.

A wrinkled hand wiped away the tears running down her cheeks.

"Our daughter."

"Welcome to the family."

The Droit couple had no children of their own.

So the two cherished Javert as if she were a daughter who had come to them late.

A warm, close-knit home.

The girl grew up steadily inside it.

She also heard and learned many things about the world she had never known.

"Mom! Dad!"

"I got a perfect score in divine energy practice today too!"

"My teacher said that at this rate, I'll become incredibly amazing in just a few years!"

"Hooh... You practiced until late at night, and your skill truly is improving at a dazzling pace."

"Talent is one thing, but it's good to see you working so steadily."

"Of course, don't push yourself too hard. Rest along the way."

"Yes, Dad!"

"But I'm doing it because I like it!"

Bright.

Cheerful.

Spirited.

Javert grew into a girl who suited words like those.

Her eyes were innocent, and they often made her parents smile.

"Javert."

Serian and Valter were good parents.

If it was something Javert wanted, they tried to grant it whenever possible.

They always watched over Javert, took interest in her, and made sure she would not be lonely.

"Always keep this in mind."

That did not mean they spoiled the child either.

Serian always reminded Javert of certain things.

Basic humanity, morality, and love.

And one principle that absolutely had to be upheld.

"Do not get too close to the people of the slums."

"It's fine to show kindness, but you must not trust them."

It was something the old woman warned her about like a habit.

Should it be called part of church activity?

Trainee priests often went to the slums for volunteer work.

In that process, it was not uncommon to meet the poor and grow attached to them.

'But telling me not to get close to them...'

Weak, powerless people.

Every one of them needed help.

Telling her not to get close to such vulnerable people was a difficult principle for the girl to understand.

'Why?'

Javert could only tilt her head.

Even if it had only been for a few years, she too had wandered the slums.

The pain and suffering those people experienced were things the girl could fully sympathize with.

'Could she possibly be discriminating against them...?'

No.

If anything, they devoted themselves to others. They were not people who looked down on or ignored anyone.

That was why the principle only became more puzzling.

After thinking it over for several days, Javert eventually asked why.

At her careful question, the old woman answered with a bitter smile.

"Valter... that is, your father, is an incredible person."

"He has a good reputation in many places, and he holds a high position within the church."

"That is why we must be careful."

Words she could not understand.

The girl, still innocent, tilted her head.

The old woman quietly stroked her daughter's hair.

"The world is not made up only of good people."

"Doing what is right also means facing that much resistance."

"Your father is an admirable man."

"That is why some bad people want to harm him or take revenge."

It was a strange story.

To be hated by some people simply because he did the right thing...

"And the slums are the perfect place for people like that to hide."

"It's hard to check identities there, and security is bound to be loose."

"That is why I tell you not to get too close."

"You must always be with adults, with people you can trust."

"Javert... child, you are good bait. You are one of the people he loves."

Javert did not understand.

Even so, she nodded while hugging the old woman tightly.

"Good girl, my beloved daughter."

"Mom believes our Javert will do well."

Like that,

several years passed.

"Javert."

"I heard you got a perfect score on your divine energy test today too."

"At this pace, you really will break the records one after another."

Four years had passed since she was adopted by the Droit couple.

The girl was already fourteen.

She had finished childhood and was just entering adolescence.

Javert grew day by day while being evaluated as an unparalleled genius.

"Still, don't push yourself too hard."

"We would rather see you happy than outstanding."

The old couple remained as kind as ever.

To repay that love, Javert always did her best.

Even while receiving trainee priest education every day, she found time to go to the slums and carry out volunteer work.

"I'm doing it because I like it!"

"I want to be a source of strength for the weak, just like Mother and Father!"

The child, who had grown up spirited, shone brightly.

Because she had been raised with love, she learned love, and she wanted to give that love to people.

There was no sign of exhaustion in the girl.

A fresh smile always rested on her lips.

Javert looked at life with optimism and dreamed of becoming a better person.

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