If They Were Real Family (1)
After taking the frightening test from the head of the Cardia family, a day had passed before I could see Yurshil again—at the lunch table, no less. Yurshil, Monte, Rudmila, and me. For a meal with just the four of us, it was shockingly lavish. The food looked so mouthwatering, it was criminal.
Normally, I'd have launched myself at the table and devoured everything in sight. But I couldn't do that today.
Because...
This wasn't just eating. It wasn't some song lyric either—this was a serious situation. I'd hauled over three cushions and plopped down on the massive chair to enjoy my meal. Or, well, I almost did.
There were two reasons I couldn't relax. Ugh.
I stabbed a tender piece of beef with my fork and lifted it carefully. Juices dripped from the soft meat, threatening to burst. My mouth watered so much I could barely stand it as I brought it to my lips to chew—but those eyes kept nagging at me. Yurshil's awkward gaze was reason number one.
I shoved the meat into my tiny mouth. It felt like it might get stuck. As I chewed with my mouth stuffed full, I thought, This is awkward.
Her eyes kept sticking to my left cheek. Staaare— Yurshil Cardia was watching me, hesitating like she wanted to look away but couldn't. If I turned my head a little, she'd whip her eyes elsewhere. If I focused on my plate, she'd lift her teacup and sneak a glance. It was like she was dying to say something but holding it back with all her might.
Hmm. Her behavior was frustrating to watch. But it seemed like she had her reasons—reasons I could kind of guess.
"Riru, wanna try this?"
"Eat this first."
It was probably because of the dragon and phoenix flanking me on either side—Rudmila and Monte. I could handle Yurshil's stares, but these two were the real problem. On my left, Rudmila shoved over a huge slab of meat. On my right, Monte offered a cookie topped with cute decorations.
Sizzle. Sparks flew.
"Monte. My brother, but such a brute."
"You're calling me a brute right now? Look at the size of that meat!"
This verbal sparring was enough to give me indigestion. The soft, wide cushions I'd brought suddenly felt like they were covered in thorns. I hunched over to avoid their sparking glares and shoveled food into my mouth like a chipmunk.
"No snacks during meals."
"We mages are always short on sugar, though?"
They kept at it regardless, locked in a fierce battle of wills. Or maybe not—Rudmila's responses were so stiff, it didn't seem that intense. Just everyday bickering. A cozy, everyday routine that warmed my heart.
"Riru, you can top this cookie with whatever decorations you want. How about it?"
Monte suddenly whipped his gaze away from Rudmila. It had felt like he was talking to a wall, but there he was, chatting away. The cookie he held out was fascinating.
The top's moist, but the bottom's crispy. What is this? The top was soft for toppings, while the base stayed perfectly crumbly, like a proper cookie. I took the one Monte offered. Rudmila bit her lower lip, but I ignored it. Truth be told, I wasn't even that hungry anymore.
I gingerly touched the broad cookie. Monte, looking smug with victory, handed me a box.
"Whoa!"
I let out an involuntary squeal. The box was filled with adorable, dainty chocolate decorations. I picked out a white chocolate one shaped like a snowman and a pointy black chocolate sword. They were so cute, my hands moved on their own.
I placed the snowman right in the center of the cookie. True to my artistic flair, it sat perfectly. Next, the sword-shaped one. Carefully, carefully. I pinched it with the tiniest surface area to avoid melting it with my body heat and positioned it next to the snowman. The result was impressively polished.
I nodded in satisfaction and decided who to give it to. Yeah, decided.
As I steeled myself inside and lifted the cookie carefully from the plate—
"You're pretty good at that!"
Clap clap clap clap.
The people around us who'd been watching burst into applause out of nowhere. The servers carrying dishes, Monte, even the head chef—all nodding proudly and clapping.
Why? Why are they clapping?
I was baffled. Why applaud this? Was it really worth it? But then—
No, don't rise, you clown.
My easily flattered inner clown started ascending at the praise. I used to be a guy. No, I couldn't just grin like an idiot at something like this.
"Pffft..."
I desperately tried to suppress it, but haha, no dice. In the end, my cheeks flushed bright red. I was starting to feel like Riru for real.
Focus, focus!
Pushing aside my embarrassment, I squirmed my feet under the chair while holding the cookie, trying to get down. With three cushions stacked, my feet barely reached. Jumping would smash the cookie, so this was a real trial.
But Rudmila, seeing my frantic wriggling, stepped in swiftly.
"Here."
She slipped her hands under my armpits and hoisted me up. Then she held me in that slightly awkward position from before. The cookie was safe. The cute snowman seemed to wave at me.
Rudmila stared holes into the cookie and said, "Cute cookie."
I clutched it tightly with both hands and asked to be put down. She set me on the floor as gently as a feather.
With my legs free, I toddled forward to deliver the cookie. Clack clack. My slippers had weird gaps inside, making odd sounds with every step. Rudmila watched me proudly. Monte, who'd stood up from his chair, gazed down. And finally—
"...Huh?"
Yurshil looked flustered as I stopped in front of her. She'd set aside her charismatic aura and tilted her head. Stiff like Rudmila, but with a hint more emotion peeking through. After a moment's thought, she said, "What a cute cookie."
Yeah, even I thought it was a work of art. And there was one reason I'd made it.
I carefully offered the cookie to Yurshil.
"...?"
"Here."
Yurshil leaned down from her chair to see. Her large hand took the cookie with utmost care. Once it was in her palm, she carried it gently to the table.
"...For me?"
I figured it out. Yurshil had been testing me somehow. Whatever it was, it seemed to have gone well. But right now, she was treating me like a total novice.
As if a little test like that would rattle me.
She probably felt bad for testing a kid and kept sneaking glances. Normal children wouldn't have noticed—they'd just be scared of her. But I was different.
It's crucial to impress the top dog.
Food goes to the eldest first—that's Korean etiquette. I could tell from her reaction just how well it landed.
"Even my own children never did something like this..."
She smiled, utterly touched, and thanked me. Maybe the distance between us had thawed a bit, because she hesitated before reaching for my armpits.
I was like, Whatever, can't be helped, and lifted my arms slightly. Grinning, she picked me up and settled me on her lap.
"Sorry about yesterday, sweetie."
"It's okay."
Then I paused. From this banquet to the bed I slept in—everything was so grateful.
I decided to speak my mind. Taking a quiet breath, I opened my mouth.
"Thank you all so much. I've never eaten food like this or stayed in a mansion like this—I'm so happy."
Monte, Rudmila, Yurshil—even the head chef and maids—all beamed warmly and waved it off.
"Psh, even a hundred thousand Rirus would be fine."
"He's right."
The siblings chimed in, but I shook my head. I always wanted to give back. I hated just receiving kindness. If I'm happy, I want everyone to be.
Sharing pancakes, sleeping at night—I always thought that way. I said it honestly.
What if this family turned like the Collodics? That fear gave me courage.
"It's so warm and nice, and the blankets smell good."
I recalled the past, my voice trembling a little.
"No one ignores me, and you don't hate me."
A woman's body is so emotional. I felt tears pricking my eyes but kept going.
"You don't say anything about my red eyes, and... thank you so, so much for healing me..."
I poured out all the knots inside. I'd said it before, but the burn treatments were a huge gratitude. Saying thanks to those who deserve it is never enough.
Speredo would understand—I'd thanked that uncle profusely.
"You all feel like my real family. I love it."
I was caught in a child's emotional whirlwind. My feelings swung wildly like this sometimes. Now I got why kids cry over little things.
"...Sweetie."
Yurshil hugged me tight. Something my real Collodic mom never did. I held back the tears welling up. The content was different, so I could manage. I was a kid, but I didn't want to cry like one.
"It's okay. Everything's okay."
Yurshil's embrace was warm, and it made me smile. Hugs from others feel good. My heart swelled.
I nuzzled into her chest for a moment, then lifted my teary face.
This family.
The one that abandoned me. And the one that cherishes me. Living here had made me too comfortable.
I blurted it out without thinking.
"I wish you were my real family."
It was a mumble, and I didn't notice. Maybe Yurshil's expert hug had melted me more skillfully than Rudmila's. Silence fell.
Of course, I didn't catch on. I just soaked in Yurshil's warmth for a bit.
...?
In the quiet, something dripped onto my head. Warm and wet, like a water drop. More fell steadily. I looked up.
"...Huh?"
But it wasn't a ceiling leak. Red droplets. Blood.
What in the world?
"......"
Monte gaped and asked Yurshil,
"Mother, um... you've got a nosebleed right now?"