First (1)
Ever since that incident, I hadn't been able to exchange so much as a single word with Wang-unni—no, with Irina.
In the first place, we were both so busy we'd barely even crossed paths.
After taking Tia and leaving work, I didn't wake until well past noon the next day.
I gently pushed Tia away—she was pressing her warm, heavy little butt right into my face—and felt a wave of dizziness.
"Ah. Was it a dream?"
I remembered yesterday's events clearly, but they felt far too surreal to be real.
I mean, that crazy woman suddenly announced she'd figured out Tia's true nature, then recited her entire past life like a laundry list?
And then declared she'd help look after Tia whenever I was busy?
Either she'd downed a whole bottle of liquor and lost her mind, or all of this was an incredibly vivid dream.
No matter how I turned it over, it had to be one of the two.
"Boss! Stamp my time card, will you?"
"······."
The moment I stepped into the tavern with Tia in my arms, I froze solid at the sight of a familiar face.
It was Wang-unni. Irina.
She always straggled in late, after opening hours had already started—so what on earth was going on today?
Irina stared into my eyes for a moment, then clicked her tongue with a tch and spun sharply on her heel.
It was a dream, then.
Figures. Of course it was.
That crabby old woman, acting all sweet and doting? As if.
I felt infinitely lighter.
I carried Tia up to the motel room, changed her diaper, stroked her head until she fell asleep, then headed back down.
"Hey. Go clean the bathroom."
"······?"
I'd barely collided with Irina before she shoved a mop into my hands.
With that one terse instruction, she shot me a glare and went straight upstairs.
"Ah. The state of that bathroom."
I burst into a groan the moment I stepped inside.
Apparently whoever had bathroom-cleaning duty yesterday had just run off.
The kimchi pancakes the customers had ordered in droves were dried out and hardened to the floor.
I heaved a sigh and turned on the cold water, about to blast it with the hose—when suddenly I felt my heart drop like a stone.
I flung the mop aside and dashed up to the second floor.
Sure enough, the door to the room I'd left Tia in was hanging slightly open.
Why, you little thief!
I rushed over and flung the door wide open.
Inside, Irina was— to Tia—
"Peekaboo, peekaboooo! Don't you love your unnie yet? I brought freshly baked cookies, and if you eat these, I'll get you a hug and—"
"Oh."
"Oh."
She was cooing at her.
Tia, who had been turning her head away in refusal, spotted me and broke into a beaming grin.
Irina, only now registering my presence, was going pale as a sheet.
"So it wasn't a dream."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"Yulia! We've got a big party table over here, tons of orders!"
"On it! Right there!"
The tavern rang with the clatter of glasses and rowdy conversation.
Yulia hurried toward the packed table, a tray in each hand.
The atmosphere in the tavern was strikingly different from usual.
Instead of the decadent air that seemed to repel ordinary patrons, it felt like any regular bar at quitting time.
It wasn't as though a special crowd had come in just for today.
The men who were practically fixtures here—the ones who showed up every day with a woman on each arm, hands busy kneading—were, for once, sitting with empty sides and slack grins, applauding enthusiastically with both hands.
And the reason was none other than this:
"Y-Yulia! Tia looks like she's about to stand up! Yulia! Get over here, quick! Yuliiiia!"
"Ah! I'm in the middle of serving, I'm busy!"
"Your kid's about to take her first steps and you won't even come watch! Ah! Hurry uuuup!"
Atop the long bar table.
There, Tia in her fuzzy hat crouched on all fours with a grave, determined face.
Then, straining as hard as if she were passing stool, she fought to push herself up on those plump little legs.
Irina, beside herself with worry that Tia might tumble off the bar table, stretched out her arms, poised to catch her at a moment's notice.
"You have to stand up, Tia! You're the pride of our tavern! Stand!"
"I bet you a hundred thousand that you take two steps within the hour! Aza-aza! You can do it!"
"I've gone all in on ten steps! Come on, underdog, let's gooo!!!"
The bearded, grizzled men lined up along the bar table roared cheers at Tia.
The main wager: exactly how many steps would Tia manage in her very first attempt at walking?
Not a single person had put money on her failing.
Looking at how those thighs had firmed up lately, it was simply impossible to imagine her not making it up.
"Mmuuuuh!"
"She—she's up!"
"Look at that fighting spirit! That's the look of a girl who intends to walk the whole length of the bar table!"
"She's walking! She's actually walking!"
"Ah! Yuliiiia! Hurry up and come!"
Tia stood on two legs.
Just as color rose faintly in Irina's cheeks, she bellowed toward the table behind the wall.
Apparently Yulia couldn't care less about witnessing her own daughter's first steps.
Whether Yulia came to watch or not, Tia—spurred on by the crowd's expectations—took her glorious first step.
The cheering spectators fell silent all at once, as though the air had been punched from their lungs.
Then another step.
And another.
Arms stretched out in front of her, wobbling and flailing, Tia was unmistakably walking on two feet.
That little brat, seriously.
In the middle of it all, glass shattered at some table or other, and over the corner of the wall peeked Yulia's backside as she crouched to clean up the mess.
A mother whose love for her child was, frankly, impossible to read.
Irina quickly shook her head and decided to stop worrying about Yulia.
She didn't forget to heap a few mental curses on her, either—may she never set foot in this place again for the rest of her life.
"Ten steps! Cleared!"
"Good heavens! Is that really a baby on her first walk?"
"Eleven! Twelve!"
Toddle, toddle.
Tia, her focus unbroken, pressed forward, finding her balance with each step.
Once she passed ten, the spectators who'd been holding their silence began to make noise again.
And then, finally, her legs seemed to give out—Tia staggered and—
"Twenty!"
"She made it!"
"Woohahaha! I never doubted you!"
—crumpled in a heap only at the very end of the bar table, pitching forward onto her front.
Then, from the basket sitting at the edge of the table, she fished out her prizes of victory—little cookies, one by one—brought them to her mouth, and began to munch away contentedly.
The snack Irina baked for her now and then, the one Tia went absolutely crazy for.
Watching her sit there hugging the basket, nibbling her cookies with a blissful face, Irina smiled warmly.
Just then Yulia's face popped out from beyond the corner, shouting.
"Ahh! Don't give her so many cookies! They're too sweet, she can't have those!"
"Tch. She doesn't even come see her and all she does is nag. Can't we just let her eat her fill today? Mommy's way too strict, isn't she?"
"Mmyeah!"
At Yulia's frantic voice, Irina had no choice but to scoop Tia up under her bottom.
The girl had mustered a full twenty steps on sheer willpower alone for the promise of those cookies, and now even that reward was being denied her.
Irina nuzzled her cheek against Tia's head and whispered playfully.
She could feel the hard little horn grazing just under the hat.
Meanwhile, Tia's attention had already shifted—arms outstretched, she was straining with all her might to grab the fox ears.
"Wang-unni! Can't I hold her just once?"
"Nope. Yulia said only I'm allowed. And—"
"Mmuuuuuh!"
"See? Tia doesn't want you either."
"Awww······."
When another employee reached out without warning, Tia shook her head furiously and burrowed deep into the hollow of Irina's modest chest.
Tia showed an extreme aversion to physical contact with strangers.
In truth, the only reason no one else could hold her was the fear of her horns being discovered—but hey, it made a handy excuse.
Tia hates the smell of makeup, you see.
Watching the employees flounder at Tia's violent reaction, Irina smiled with no small sense of superiority.
The moment she'd noticed that Tia was sensitive to the smell of cosmetics, she had cut back on her makeup.
That wasn't all.
Behind Yulia's back, she changed Tia's stinky diapers whenever needed, played with her, baked her cookies—diligently racking up affection points.
And in time, Tia, who at first had wailed and fussed and refused to be held by anyone, became completely at ease with Irina alone.
Heh. Entertaining her nicely, aren't I.
By now Yulia had finished serving the big party table and stood cradling her tray, gazing at the bar table from a distance.
It really did seem like the tavern's atmosphere had grown far more cheerful since Tia had made her appearance.
A lot of the seedy, sleazy energy had drained away too.
With fewer customers requesting the hostesses by name, their commission pay had certainly dropped—but the tavern's overall sales had risen, and so had their base salary.
In effect, they were working more and earning less, yet not a soul complained.
No one wanted to go back to the days before Tia and Yulia.
All thanks to Irina, I suppose.
Without her, things never would have turned out this way.
Sure, I'd accidentally let Tia be seen—but realistically, I'd have just kept her locked away in that motel room like a secret to be hidden.
It was because Irina had caught onto Tia's true nature that today was possible.
"Heheh. Aren't my ears just wonderful?"
"Mmaah!"
Yulia gazed absently at Irina's face as she fluttered her ears for Tia's amusement.
Without all that makeup, she looked far younger than usual.
Or maybe it wasn't the lack of makeup—maybe it was the smile.
A gentle smile crept onto Yulia's lips.
"Huh?"
Then that smile began to warp.
Yulia flinched and shuddered at a strange sensation throbbing through her lower body.
She felt a damp, viscous slick trailing down the insides of her thighs.
Sensing something terribly wrong, she looked down—and discovered a thin red line of fresh blood that had soaked through her skirt, run all the way down her leg, and was pooling into her heel.
"Ah······."
She raised her head to find Irina's worried eyes fixed on her.
Irina's ears had sprung taut, bristling with alarm.
A quick glance around showed that every customer had gone rigid, staring blankly at Yulia.
In an instant, a dizziness so violent it felt like she might faint washed over her.