When someone knocks on the orphanage door, it’s usually for one of two reasons:
kind-hearted people looking to support the poor children, or those coming to adopt for their own reasons.
Knock, knock.
“Yes, I’m coming!”
Is the person knocking now one of the former, or the latter?
With the heart-thumping anticipation of opening a random box, I swung open the door to the orphanage.
“Gasp!”
Standing outside was a neatly dressed middle-aged man.
I recognized him.
He was the kind-hearted man who visited about once a week to play with the children.
It seemed that today, too, he had come to spend time with the kids.
But the timing wasn’t great.
Right now, the children were all napping.
Unfortunately, playing together wasn’t an option.
“Uh… I’m sorry, but everyone’s asleep right now…”
I scratched my cheek awkwardly and apologized, but he shook his head as if to say he wasn’t here for that reason.
“Huh? Then for what? Oh? Adoption?”
It made sense now—he was dressed unusually sharp today.
It seemed he had finally found a child he liked.
“Well, you could’ve just said so from the start.”
I wasn’t worried.
If it was this man—known for his gentle and warm personality—the child he adopted would surely be well cared for.
Plus, he’s rich.
The kid would definitely get to eat delicious food and wear beautiful clothes.
But who’s the lucky one that’s caught his eye?
“So, who do you want to adopt?”
Unable to contain my growing curiosity, I asked him. Without a moment’s hesitation, he pointed at me.
Oh.
Not again?
“Me? I’m the head of the orphanage!”
The man, startled by the unexpected title of “head,” asked again in disbelief.
He looked completely flustered, as if he couldn’t believe I wasn’t a child.
I should’ve clarified this earlier.
“Well, I mean, technically I am a kid, but that’s not the point! The head of the orphanage isn’t up for adoption!”
“Haa…”
“Haa…”
“Teacher, you got another adoption request, didn’t you?”
“How many times does this make now?”
Plenty of people come to the orphanage to adopt children, but for some reason, I’m always the one getting picked.
Why is that?
Is it because I’m shorter than the other kids?
Honestly, this happens so often—about once every three days—that I’m considering putting up a sign that says, ‘The head of the orphanage is not available for adoption!’
Ugh, my head hurts.
To think, I never planned on running an orphanage in the first place.
How did things even end up like this?