Sloth and Dad [4]
"...Ung..."
As the long-stretched sunset filtered through the window gap, dyeing one corner of the bedroom red, Lulu's eyelashes trembled faintly.
Lulu slowly opened her eyes and froze at the soft, fluffy feel of the blanket.
"Eh...?"
Her eyes widened round. The child first patted around her arms.
Only after confirming that her worn doll Mimi was there, fluffier than usual, did Lulu let out a short breath.
But soon, urgent fear clouded Lulu's face.
She was scared that the warm 'daddy' who had appeared yesterday and hugged her might have been just a dream born from hunger.
"D-Da... Dadaaa...!"
Lulu whipped her head around with a quivering, tearful voice.
Right then, a heavy, solid warmth pressed against her side.
There he was.
The big man who had called her at dawn in the plaza was really lying beside her.
The moment that warmth touched her skin, Lulu gasped out the breath she'd been holding and murmured softly.
"...Mwah, not a dreammm... Real dadaaa... Heehee..."
A pure, foolishly innocent smile spread across the child's lips.
Lulu stayed frozen there for a long while, just staring at me.
Then she tentatively reached out a finger and poked my cheek. Poke.
Poke again.
"...Thisss... Real dadaaa."
Her eyes sparkling, Lulu poked a bit harder this time. My cheek sprang back up when she pressed and released. As if begging it never to vanish again—or maybe just wanting to believe it was real—the child checked and rechecked.
Gently touching my face like it was something wondrous, Lulu finally broke into a beaming grin once she accepted that what she was touching was her 'real dad.'
I slowly opened my closed eyes and muttered.
"...Sleep well?"
As I opened my eyes and asked, Lulu nodded vigorously, her energy low but her mouth stretched ear to ear.
"Ung... Slept wellll... Dadaaa. Heehee, hee..."
For no reason at all—just because I'd opened my eyes—she grinned vacantly, staring holes into my face.
"Buttt... Where's... thisss...?"
I rubbed my eyes and sat up.
"House I made. Our place from now on."
I got out of bed and scooped up the happily smiling Lulu.
Holding her, I glanced back at the bed. Because I'd put her to sleep without even washing her yesterday, the pristine white sheets and pillow were smudged with dirt and stains.
I patted Lulu's back so she wouldn't notice and casually flicked my hand.
Whoosh—.
As Sloth Force brushed past, the soiled bedding evaporated in an instant, replaced by fluffy, clean new ones.
I turned toward the table with Lulu in my arms as if nothing had happened.
I gently set her on a small chair, then placed the bread I'd brought from the plaza in front of her.
It had gone cold since daytime.
I stared at the bread and murmured low.
"Ah, gone cold."
I lightly snapped my fingers at it.
Snap—.
A flicker of Sloth Force enveloped the bread, its surface crisping up like fresh from the oven, steam rising gently.
The rich, savory aroma thickened the air, tickling Lulu's nose.
Lulu stared down at the bread, hands clasped tight on her knees.
Her eyes sparkled like stars at the warm loaf.
"Wow... Thisss... Lulu never saw before..."
Not tearing her gaze away, her lips moved.
So focused, she didn't even notice drool pooling at her mouth and dribbling steadily.
Drip.
A drop slid down her chin onto her small hands clasped on her lap.
At the sensation, Lulu flinched and snapped to.
"Ah...! Ung...!"
Her face flushed beet red as she flailed her sleeves to wipe her mouth and hands.
Panicking like she'd committed some grave sin.
I chuckled and reached out to stop her clumsy efforts. I pulled a clean handkerchief from my pocket and gently wiped the drool from her mouth and hands.
Each touch made Lulu hold her breath, sneaking glances at my face.
...First time seeing warm bread, huh.
It made sense. In Lulu's memories, food was just cold scraps others discarded or moldy, hard crusts.
This ordinary 'food'—steaming, savory scent piercing the nose—was a wondrous new sight for her.
I tucked the handkerchief away and tore off a soft piece of bread, holding it to her lips.
The fluffy white crumb tempted right before her eyes.
"Here, eat."
Lulu flinched, lips quivering.
Then, in a tiny voice, she glanced at me.
"Thisss... Can Lulu... eat...?"
That servile habit—covering her hands, bowing her head—reemerged.
It tugged at me. I stood, scooped her up, and sat back down with her on my lap.
My large body and warmth enveloped her.
I felt her tension easing bit by bit in my arms.
Supporting her back firmly, I said.
"It's fine. I'm Dad, so I brought it 'cause I wanna see Lulu eat yummy stuff. All yours."
I held the bread piece to her lips again.
"...Ung... yeah..."
Lulu stared into my eyes a long moment, then finally relaxed and took a big bite with her small mouth.
"...!!"
Her eyes nearly bugged out.
For the first time, her tongue—used to moldy trash shells—tasted 'real food.'
"Wowww... So yummmyyy... Dadaaa, Lulu never... ate like thisss... Real..."
Her cheeks flushed red as her small body shivered, munching away.
That radiant smile leaking out instinctively from her first taste of happy flavor.
Watching her pure face, I thought yesterday's grueling hassle venturing out was worth it.
I'd lived my whole life in sloth, but seeing this little one's smile? That effort was a bargain.
"Dadaaa too! Dadaaa eat some!"
Forgetting to wipe the honey from her own mouth, Lulu tore the softest bit and shoved it at my lips.
"...Yeah, thanks."
I took the bread she offered and thought.
Feeding her, hugging her, letting her sit on my lap—these hassles weren't half bad.
Properly, after feeding me, Lulu resumed munching her share.
Then, as if remembering the doll in her arms, she paused, carefully setting Mimi on the table.
"Ah...! Mimi... Mimi hungry too?"
Seeing honey and crumbs on her hands, Lulu tore a tiny fluffy clean crumb from the bread.
She held it before Mimi's button eyes and whispered.
"Mimiii... Mimi eat thisss. Super yummy. Lulu give youuu... Wait... Okay? Ahh— open wide."
The doll couldn't reply, but Lulu held the crumb patiently, as if waiting for her to eat.
Then she dotted crumbs on Mimi's mouth and burst into satisfied giggles.
"Yummy? Dadaaa gave it... Our real dadaaa... Heehee."
Bragging about Dad even to the doll, her happy face made me exhale lazily, stroking her back as I thought.
That odd dissonance from reading Lulu's memories.
Lulu didn't just cherish the doll. To her, Mimi talked, ate with her, comforted her when sick—a 'living being.'
Hallucination and auditory kind, huh.
A self-hypnosis her brain conjured to survive brutal isolation and abuse.
When the world saw her as vermin, Mimi alone praised and soothed her—her sole family.
A desperate survival instinct birthing fake life.
Gazing at Lulu beaming as she dotted crumbs on Mimi's mouth, I decided.
...Then make it real. Familiar, yeah...
Base: that worn doll, Mimi.
Life and memories: implant the full image from Lulu's mind.
Wrap my Sloth Force around once or twice for reinforcement—no tearing stuffing or fabric ever.
Personality... Yeah, match the Mimi in her memories exactly.
The kind chatter when lonely, warm comfort when crying. Even if a fictional persona her brain made, to Lulu, Mimi was complete.
And since Lulu wants to feed her, make her actually swallow food.
Link innards to some hellfire pit—burns anything, no matter how much.
...My first familiar a kid's doll. What'd Bael say...
Me, who'd gone eons without kin or familiars, picking a stuffed toy? Laughable, even to me.
I slowly stroked Lulu's soft hair, thinking, ...Still, if it moves for real, Lulu'll love it.
That was enough. Her smile mattered more than my hassle or dignity.
Once Lulu meticulously brushed crumbs from Mimi's mouth, only the pleasant bread scent lingered on the table.
Looking at Lulu contentedly patting her full belly on my lap, I asked softly.
"Tasty?"
"Yeah! Super yummy! Dadaaa, tummy all warm inside!"
Her eyes sparkled—first hot meal ever.
Just one warmed bread, and she beamed like owning the world.
Holding her, I slowly stood.
"Good. Time to wash up now."
Her grimy face had crumbs and sweet honey—no more delaying.
Lulu puffed her chest proudly in my arms.
"Yeah! Lulu super good at washing! Lulu do splash splash alone!"
Probably recalling splashing rainwater or puddles on her face before.
Her cocky pride, like it was her greatest skill, was amusing.
"Oh yeah? Show me your skills then."
I chuckled, carrying her to the bathroom.
I knew her 'washing skills' wouldn't cut it—mine would be needed anyway.
One arm holding Lulu, I flicked on the bathroom light.
As she blinked at the sudden brightness, I waved my hand, infusing cozy warmth into the chilly space.
I conjured a small wooden stool for her and sat her down.
Lulu busily looked around, wide-eyed.
What captivated her most: the big mirror straight ahead.
"Wowww..."
She tilted her head, entranced; mirror-Lulu did the same.
She raised a hand tentatively; mirror-her waved back.
"Dadaaa! Dadaaa! That's Lulu? Another Lulu here!"
A kid who'd only seen distorted reflections in roadside mud or broken glass.
First time seeing her face clear and bright, Lulu excitedly twisted and turned before the mirror, admiring herself.
I chuckled at her, starting to fill the tub.
Size: perfect kid tub for Lulu.
Truth: I don't need washing. Post-demon, my body's eternally pristine.
Past-life habits hate filth, so Sloth Force keeps it clean.
But for fun, I'll brush teeth with her.
Warm water poured from the shower, filling the tub. Steam billowed softly.
Lulu's eyes widened; she lunged, strangling my neck.
"D-Dadaaa! Nooo! That'sss... Fiiiire! Dadaaa, ruuun! Hottt!"
She mistook bath steam for burning smoke.
"Hurts! Dadaaa... Ungh, come heeere...!"
Desperately yanking me, pale as a ghost. I stifled a laugh.
Makes sense—for a trash heap kid, only cold water. Lukewarm sun-heated puddles, maybe. But steaming water? 'Warm water' was alien.
...Yeah, startling.
I soothed the scared Lulu, set her down, and met her eyes.
"It's okay. Not fire. Come on, clothes off. Lulu, arms up—."
"...A-Arms up?"
Whether understanding or mimicking Dad, she eyed the steam warily but raised her skinny arms high.
I carefully peeled off the rag-like sackcloth draped over her frail arms.
That instant, cold rage froze my reason.
Her body wasn't 'normal' by any stretch.
Torn wounds everywhere baseline; pus-filled, blackened skin.
Belly and chest crusted hard as stone; scratched raw, bruises galore.
Finding unscathed spots would be quicker.
Suppressing boiling fury, I examined her—and felt odd dissonance.
...Wait, this possible?
Memories: scavenging trash since four, stomped by adult men, stoned.
She should've died dozens of times over.
I focused Sloth Force in my eyes, scanning her body—skin-deep to organs, bones.
Result: wreckage. Should be dead any second. Yet she slept in my arms, ate bread, grinned vacantly at me.
How?
I peered deeper, to her core. Realization hit.
No mana in her. Not even minimal life-mana everyone has—depleted.
What moved her now: raw 'life force.'
Burning future time to fuel the present.
Terminal—gnawing her lifespan even now. Left alone, she'd flicker out like a candle.
Chill sank in my chest. Trembling, I hugged her gently, patting her back.
"...Hurt a lot, huh."
My low voice startled her; she looked up, then beamed innocently.
"N-Nooo... It's fiiiine... Dadaaa, thankyouuu... Heehee."
That answer—pain normalized—stabbed my heart.
No more life force drain. Moving like this burns her future self. I summoned trace Sloth Force, infiltrating her body.
Repositioned forcibly used life force, filled the gap with my power, forced circulation. Blocked her pain senses temporarily too.
Twisted life-wheel grudgingly meshed under my power.
But not perfect. Can't restore burned ashes to logs—lost life force beyond my authority.
Can't embed my power forever either. She'd live painless 'no-pain' forever.
...Painless is curse, not blessing.
No pain means oblivious to breaking body. Restore senses now? Pain tsunami shocks her dead.
Just a stopgap holding dying embers. Need real fix soon.
Treatment first.
Luckily, this world has magic, holy power. Fixing broken flesh, mending life channels—their specialty.
For now, bind with my power. Plan countermeasures soon.
I exhaled—relief mixed with heavy duty—and smiled faintly at oblivious, grinning Lulu.
"...Yeah. Real wash now."
Wipe the whole village.
No, too merciful. Show 'em hell—pain you can't die from.
Such thoughts as I eyed her face.
Body wrecked, yet happy at warm air, she grinned at me.
Pretty smile.
"...Feeling good?"
"Yeah! Dadaaa, Lulu feels so gooood... Real!"
Her clear sincerity tugged my lips up too.
I lifted her carefully into the warm, sloshing tub.
But new worry hit.
Wash long like this? Risky.
Grime flies off with Sloth Force, but water in deep wounds? Infection nightmare.
I sighed inwardly, lathering gently.
Never washed a kid, let alone daughter.
Should've watched parenting tips in past life.
Focus: clean filth without aggravating wounds.
Treatment... That 'Holy Kingdom' from the man's memories.
Kidnap a saintess or high priest there.
Can't leave scars on my girl.
I wiped her oh-so-gently.
Grime out—fresh water. Wipe, refill. Six-seven times.
Finally, her skin gleamed cleanish.
I grabbed a dryer, fine-tuned temp, dried her wet hair and body fluffy.
"Okay, next this."
Snap—conjured soft silicone kids' toothbrush for her gums. Barely teeth left, wounds everywhere—regular brush disaster.
Silicone nubs, tiny toothpaste dab, handed to her.
First brush ever. Toothpaste spicier than thought—she mumbled, then yelped.
"Eeeehhh... Eeeh!"
No kid paste memory, but she manned up, mimicking me.
Nubby tickle on gums? She snorted nonstop. "Ooooh! Dadaaa, mouth cooold! Sparkly!"
Her 'spicy = cold' grin made me nod.
"That's called 'refreshing.'"
"Refweshing? What's refweshinggg?"
She tilted her head, then wiggled happily, humming.
"Refweshing! Refweshing~ Lulu mouth refweshing~!"
Her song-humm as I pulled a black hoodie from the closet.
Dress-sized on her, but no other clothes—good enough.
I scooped hoodie-buried Lulu and finally left the bathroom.