Sloth and Fatherhood [2]
A strange feeling.
Something I never could have imagined in my normal state.
Holding someone in my arms, enduring their body heat, even bothering to pat their back to soothe them. All these actions should be nothing short of grueling labor for me.
Why is this?
I find my own image—frantically comforting this tiny creature on the verge of hyperventilating from sobs—utterly alien.
Me? The embodiment of Sloth itself?
At that moment, red letters flashed across my vision.
For family member Lulu only, Sloth's Authority is temporarily restricted.
Restriction 1: Native mana recovery impossible for the descended entity.
Restriction 2: Upon full mana depletion, forced summon back to Hell.
Restriction 3: Upon contractor (Lulu)'s death, soul immediately transferred to Hell.
Restriction 4: Use of wide-scale destructive Authority leading to world destruction or annihilation will result in immediate nullification of said power.
Special Note: Even if Authority is nullified, consumed native mana is not refunded, and the caster's soul experiences temporary overload.
Restriction 5: Summoning of kin from Hell prohibited.
I stared blankly at those brutal terms.
...Hah, would you look at this? What a ridiculous farce.
A bizarre smile tugged at my lips.
Native mana— that's my Sloth Force, right? No recovery? Hell, that's actually a good thing. If I fall asleep to recharge the Sloth Force I've used up, Lulu would be left alone again. Better to stay awake.
The warning about being ejected to Hell upon full depletion drew a hollow chuckle from me.
Heh, this thing... it has no idea how much Sloth Force I have.
I closed my eyes briefly and sank into my inner world. There, vast beyond the ancient past, churned an endless black ocean.
Whoosh—!
The soul-shaking roar of black waves. Only after confirming that unimaginable abyss did I open my eyes to reality again.
If Lulu dies and falls to Hell... well, can't be helped. Doesn't matter. Hell's way more livable than this shitty surface world anyway. Mamon's in the middle of modernizing it, and with me there, I can make her way happier than here, no doubt.
My gaze shifted to the next item.
World-ending Authority banned? Never planned to use it anyway. Kin summoning banned? I don't have any kin. Why bother making something so troublesome.
But one thing was clear.
Can't go all out like against Bael anymore. No event horizons or nuclear fusions— not that I'd need them, but if I do, I'd have to hold back. Hm...
Curiosity struck. How much Sloth Force did killing that brute earlier use? I scanned my inner sea again, but...
Tch, can't even see it drop. What am I supposed to do with that. It'd have to be noticeable to register.
Next... anything involving Lulu... won't feel bothersome, huh?
The essence of Sloth that no demon had ever bent, now twisted by a single contract. Conditional only for my daughter, but undeniably, a higher law superseded my nature in this world.
...Impressive.
A deeply intriguing phenomenon.
I wanted to test it myself.
Still holding the child, I stood and slowly bounced her, rocking side to side to soothe.
It was miraculous.
My arm muscles didn't scream, my mind didn't haze over.
No fatigue at all from the motion.
What if I did something just for myself, unrelated to Lulu?
I turned my gaze to the brute's house from moments ago and reached out.
Twisting space to compress the whole thing.
Instantly, crushing laziness and leaden exhaustion crashed over my body.
Ah! Stop, stop.
I yelled inwardly and withdrew my hand. Shifting focus back to the child in my arms, I checked her state. The fatigue vanished like a lie.
A strange zeal even welled up— a first in my life— to protect this little back even better.
...Fascinating. So contracts work like this too.
The situation wasn't bad. Quite the opposite— I liked it.
At least tending to my daughter wouldn't be hindered by that accursed Sloth. This bizarre lightness in moving for this tiny life over rolling listlessly in bed. I patted her small back lightly and murmured low.
As that realization settled, a pleasant strength filled my previously heavy arm.
I patted her small back again and murmured.
"...Yeah. Yeah, Dad's right here."
Watching her sob into my chest, hiccuping away, that word strangely fit my mouth.
After a long wail in my arms, the child finally calmed and peeked her head up.
"...Dadaa?"
Her puffy eyes gazing up at me... objectively, a mess of tears and snot, utterly pitiful, yet...
Strangely endearing, impossible to look away from.
Hell demons would freak, but something inside me whispered.
Is this a father's heart for his daughter?
Feeling like the stereotypical doting dad.
Dismissing it as just the contract felt wrong; each tiny breath tickled my heart too vividly.
Sweeter than eternal sleep, heavier satisfaction than any Hell power enveloped me.
A bizarre drive bubbled to keep doing for this little life.
...Ah, right. That.
I set the now-calm Lulu down briefly and recalled the 'tattered bundle' etched in her memories.
The offering she'd sacrificed to summon me— her everything.
As the summoning price paid to me, ownership transferred by law.
Knowing its meaning to her from her memories, I lightly reached into empty air.
Flash—!
Space tore like paper; from red glows, a small tattered doll gently dropped into my palm.
Frayed fabric with jutting threads everywhere.
One eye missing, one ear nearly torn off.
Lulu's beloved Mimi.
"...This one? The doll."
I paused after speaking.
"Mimi! Mimi-ya...!"
Seeing the tattered bundle on my palm, Lulu's lips quivered.
Her eyes brimmed, ready to overflow.
The Mimi she'd offered to summon me wasn't just a thing— a desperate sacrifice of her sole lifeline.
Facing her friend again, presumed lost forever, on Dad's hand— joy hit second to surging sorrow, twisting her face.
Confronted by that pure desperation, I felt oddly embarrassed, shrugged, and corrected myself.
"...No. Mimi. Your precious... friend."
At 'Mimi' from my lips, a tear plopped from her eye.
Her pure joy brought a strange pride swelling in my chest.
"...Ung! Uuung...! Mimi is... Lulu's fwiend...!"
Lulu snatched Mimi from my hand with a world-conquering grin, hugging tight. Just a worthless rag to Hell treasures, yet she cherished it like life, rubbing against her chest.
"Yeah, take it. It's mine now anyway— I can give it to whoever."
No contract law objected to the owner's transfer.
My arrogant, slothful Authority handy at times like this.
"Dada... Waaah! Tank you... weally...!"
Before I finished, Lulu jumped up, bowing deeply.
"Tank you... weally, weally tank you... Dadaa..." Not a casual thanks.
Head nearly hitting the floor, body precariously bent, bowing repeatedly.
As if stopping meant I'd snatch Mimi back or hit her— desperate head-bobs.
Not learned politeness, but wretched survival instinct, begging not to be hit.
Seeing her scarred little body bend like that twisted my mood viciously.
...Who taught her that?
Her speech all casual from hearing only that, yet body remembered fear, bowing discordantly.
Overlapped with memories of dodging kicks, clutching head.
A trivial kindness easier than lifting eyelids was, to her, a miracle demanding body-bending gratitude.
I reached first, grabbing her shoulders.
"Enough. Stop. You don't need to go that far."
Caught in my hand, Lulu looked up.
Confused, or wary if I was mad— anxious eyes tilting head.
"...Ung? Stop...?"
"Yeah. Just 'thanks' is enough. No need to grovel."
Struck by the unfamiliar words, she blanked briefly, then realizing my gentle touch, beamed and nodded.
"Ung! Otay, Dadaa!"
Quick to answer.
But seeing subservient habits behind that innocent face, I sighed deeply.
Haa... So much to teach.
Speech, manners, that habit of reading eyes.
Felt like the world's hardest homework dumped on a sleep-all-day me.
Moments later.
I pointed to the ground by my feet.
"There... wanna sit?"
"Ung! Otay, Dadaa!"
Like a happy pup wagging tail, she scurried over and plopped down.
Sat, blinking big eyes, head tilt.
"...But... why...?"
Instead of answering, I half-lidded eyes, slowly scanning her from head to toe.
"To remember. Etch you in my head... like a photo."
"...Pho...to...?"
Lulu mumbled, uncomprehending.
Makes sense— raised illiterate, barely speaking.
Living in trash corner forever, no way she'd know fancy 'photo.'
To her, magic-level alien concept.
"Yeah. Don't wanna forget. My head's fickle... gotta specially engrave precious things."
Instinct from eons in Hell, Sloth itself.
Memories are data to process, data is labor, labor is annoying.
So pre-Lulu, I barely remembered Hell legion commanders' faces except Seven Deadly and Bael.
But her— exception.
My daughter.
And above all...
...Hell or here, full of annoying bastards. Pull out this dumb cute face when pissed, bet it'd lazy everything peaceful.
My personal 'stabilizer' etched in mind.
I began meticulously carving her form into my soul.
Waist-length messy brown hair, reddish-brown eyes, cheeks flushing at 'Dad.'
Not missing a detail, I painstakingly engraved Lulu.
...Cute.
But longer I observed, thicker my irritation grew.
Her beaming smile showed gaps, some chipped teeth.
Skinny limbs, bony wrists.
Beyond rag-cloth, bruises and scars peeked.
And worst— pathetically small for her age.
...Ten years old should be third or fourth grade size. Way too small.
Garbage diet, no wonder.
Needs galore.
Nutrition, hygiene, proper bed.
And... healing.
Mid-thought, heavy warmth thudded my leg.
"...Dadaa..."
Lulu, hugging Mimi, had snuggled to my leg, nodding off.
I looked down at my stiff leg, troubled.
"...How do you even raise a kid?"
Despairing sigh escaped.
Memories of past-life dramas, docs; library knowledge overflowed— but seeing and doing, worlds apart.
I carefully scooped up Lulu.
First, home...
Headed to 'that place' in her memories.
Arrived at her 'home' cradling sleeping Lulu.
A trash heap of nose-stinging stench, damp paper smell, cold drafts through gaps.
Doghouse too cruel for dogs— wretched.
"...Lived here?"
Mood plummeted bitterly.
Thought memories prepared me, but reality hit hard.
Hell sulfur pits cozier by comparison.
Confirming eyes-on my daughter huddled here long— chest sank like stone-laden.
Tempted to dust this vile dump, but touching box surface halted me.
Lulu's memories flooded viciously through fingertips.
Rain-pouring night. Drenched tiny body dragging box bigger than herself. Dropping from weakness, face-planting mud— yet Lulu didn't cry. Dug dirt till nails blackened, wrapped sticky scavenged tape around tiny fingers, grunting as she built walls.
"This way... no cold..."
Patched gaps with trash plastic fearing wind, pinned rags with sharp stones, stacking one by one. Only curling into that cramped damp crevice did she smile relieved. Her one castle in the world, guardian sole.
Memory-Lulu, fingers burst bloody, still joyed at her new home.
"...You had... affection for it. Even this trash heap."
Not mere wood-paper clump.
Record of child's desperate thrash to live, not die.
Couldn't smash the box.
Instead, preserved her precious love intact, twisted space.
Lightly placed hand on box.
Red light rippled from fingertips, seeping paper walls.
Drew a ladle from my sea-like Sloth Force, infused into box home.
That sliver warped dimension; interior reconfigured to my coziest recalled space.
Exterior unchanged— shabby box.
But inside? Another world.
Cozy bed, clean sink, soft lighting.
Past-life one-room based snug 1.5-room embedded within.
"...Past-life studio base. Wanted more, but too lazy."
Laid sleeping Lulu on clean bed, tucked blanket.
Lulu smiled in sleep, murmuring.
"...Ung... Dadaa..."
Stroked her hair awhile.
Or quite long.
Finally, quietly opened box door and stepped out.