Ducking and covering her ears, Lyrica mumbled in a hushed tone. "I was just trying to help..."

"HUH!! You call this helping?!" Ruben stretched his arms out in dramatic passion, revealing all of the stained sheets behind him. "Tch," Ruben clicked his tongue and locked away his thunder, giving Lyrica some peace of mind.

Looking around her and staring at the stained sheets, Lyrica sighs. "I'm sorry... I just wanted to help..." She apologized, bowing her head.

"What," he looked at her confused and bewildered. "Don't bow your head, it's okay." Ruben sighed. "I just... cleaning this all will... Help me wash all of these."

"Alright..."

Ruben then started gathering all of the sheets and putting them in a basin. They went outside and poured water into the basin, and mixed it with ash. Then with his hand, he welled some water. Bucket in hand he told Lyrica. "Sit on the well, I'll wash your feet." Then he washed Lyrica's feet with the water which made her yelp. "Stomp on all of these with your feet, I'll go back and get the others."

"O-okay," Lyrica replied, lifting the hem of her skirt and stomping on the clothes with her feet. Ruben then went back inside the orphanage.

Soon after Ruben came back with his own basin full of clothes, pouring water in and mixing it with ash. Looking at Lyrica's direction he sighed. "Tie your skirt so you don't have to hold it."

"Tie? Like this?" Lyrica replied, collecting all of the cloth of her skirt and knotting it.

"Good enough, I guess."

The hours passed in awkward silence, Lyrica wanting to talk and Ruben being too busy with washing the sheets. Soon enough the children came back, wild mushrooms and vegetables in tow, most bringing back firewood. Lyrica looked at the children. Most of them dropped off what they were carrying in the cellar and ran out, possibly to play.

Some though, walked out with tired expressions. Almost weeping as they saw Ruben and Lyrica washing the sheets and stomping on them with their feet. Some of them walked out with a leather pouch in hand, the clinking of the metal inside could be heard. They were holding a wooden board, reading it.

"Hey, don't space out," Ruben sighed, reminding Lyrica.

"They can read?"

"Jodie taught them to."

"Hm... where are they going?"

"Less questions, more washing."

Soon enough, they finished. Rinsing the sheets, Ruben barked an order to Lyrica. "Help me put these back." Carrying the basin with dry sheets, they heaved as they put the sheets on the beds. Then they stored them in the cellar.

Exhausted, Lyrica plopped down on her newly washed sheets. Then Ruben opened a drawer next to his bed, and pulled out two weirdly shaped sticks. He then took out a knife from another drawer, sat down on his bed and began sculpting it his wood shavings littering the floor.

"Wait!"

"Oh?" Ruben answered.

"You'll dirty the floor again!" Lyrica said, pointing at the floor and the wood shavings scattered on it.

Ruben sighs in understanding, knowing how tough it can be to clean and how much time it takes. "...Fine, hand me a basin."

"...Hand?" Lyrica tilted her head, not understanding.

"Give me a basin."

"Ah...!"

Lyrica then ran off and went downstairs and into the cellar where they left the basins. She went upstairs, stumbling with her steps carrying a basin over her head which blocked her sight.

Looking at the stairs and waiting for her, Ruben scratched his head in annoyance. "Stupid, be more careful next time. Don't fall down the stairs." Ruben said in concern, looking over her and confirming if she got hurt anywhere. "Tch. I can't afford to waste time taking care of you."

"Oh! O-okay."

"Got. It? Be more careful next time. If you want to clean you can, just ask me for help." Ruben said, patting her head gently.

Ruben then continued shaving the sticks with his knife. The sticks were oddly shaped, it was long and it had balls at one of the ends. "What are you doing?"

"Sculpting."

"Sculpting what?"

"Needles."

"That's way too big for needles."

"..." Ruben paused and stopped. "It's for knitting."

"Are you gonna sell those?"

"No... But when I get some thread, I want to try knitting something."

"You like knitting?"

"Well... Not exactly..."

"Why are you making them?"

"To save money."

"...Save money?"

Ruben sighed. "I can't just go around spending money, I need to save it up."

"Are we running out of money?" Lyrica asked, concerned. She understood that without money they would run out of food. And she didn't want to spend another day with an empty stomach ever again. "I... know a way to get money... I think..."

Ruben stopped what he was doing and dropped it all on the bed. "Go on."

"Well... there's this thing called supply and demand." Lyrica began explaining the basics of economics.

Supply is the current amount of stock in a market, while demand is the number of people who are willing to buy the supply. If supply is low, the demand is high because there's not enough stock in the market for everyone. The people will buy with higher prices to fight against the other customers, raising their chance to buy it. The same applies in reverse however. If the supply is high, the demand is low because there's enough stock in the market for everyone, they won't need to fight against other customers and buy in higher prices. Instead the prices will lower.

"...So I propose for you to try selling wooden figures?"

"Sure, no one else sells them. But how can you be sure anyone will buy them?"

"Well... we can't... it depends on the market and whether there's a target demographic for the product..."

"So in other words, we'll just have to keep trying to sell products until one clicks and customers come flooding in?"

"...I think?"

"I see... I didn't think of that. Maybe I can finally buy... Never mind, thanks... uhh..."

"Lyrica! I can't believe you've already forgotten my name."

"You dolt, you never told us. Thanks, Lyri."

"O-okay..." Lyrica said, blushing.

Soon enough, the children's footsteps were heard climbing the stairs. They were tired and noticed that Ruben and Lyrica were done washing the sheets. Ruben then finished up and stored the needles and knife in the drawers. Then with basin in hand he headed downstairs. "See you, Lyri."

"Okay!"