What… did he just call me?
My arms, which had been resting on the dining table, began to sting as the cool wood bit into my skin, growing more unbearable by the second.
Why… would he call me that?
I shifted my legs, adjusting my posture. Then I did it again. And again. But no matter how many times I did it, everything felt... wrong. Like I was performing the act of sitting incorrectly.
What is he trying to gain?
I just couldn't wrap my head around why he'd ever call me such a thing. If I were Lily, I could brush it off without a second thought—but I wasn't.
I wasn't his little "Lovely Daughter." I was just his Son.
A part of me thought he was joking around, and it would've been easy to believe such a thing—but from the way he was looking at me, I knew he wasn't.
And that was exactly the problem. Because there was no way that my Old Man would ever love me like that, much less treat me the same way he treated my sister.
I instinctively lowered my gaze, pulling it away from him. I wasn't trying to avoid him, and I knew I had to respond, but right now, it was just hard to look at him.
He hadn't even done anything wrong, so a part of me felt a little guilty for it. But even so, I didn't have it in me to face him.
My gaze wandered across the empty surface of the table until it landed on my bowl—the same bowl Dad had meticulously prepared for me.
It had the perfect amount of noodles, meats, and vegetables. Objectively, it should've been a flawless serving.
Except... there were vegetables. Call it childish, but I usually didn't eat vegetables. Maybe one or two at most, but never this many. And that was why, whenever Mom made dinner, she only ever gave me a couple.
And yet, this bowl had far more than two. Dad had spent all that time carefully picking everything out to make sure it was the perfect serving for me, and somehow, he still found a way to mess up. He really didn't know me at all.
...But it didn't change the fact that he tried.
I couldn't help but let out a small chuckle.
Stupid Old Man...
Taking a small breath, I formed a cold, sarcastic grin on my face and lifted my head, gazing at him once again.
"What was that all about? I'm not Lily, you know."
It was what came most naturally to me, what I figured I'd normally say in this situation—but I couldn't stop second-guessing myself, worried whether or not I'd come off too harshly. I'd never once worried about being too harsh with him before—nor did I ever care.
The worry turned out to be unfounded as Dad let out a loud, obnoxious, yet contagious laugh that shook the room—and me.
I blinked, slightly caught off guard. I didn't think what I'd said was that funny, or at least not worth a laugh as genuine as this.
Still—I kept the surprise off my face, maintaining the same neutral, detached expression as ever.
Seeing that, Dad laughed even harder. "Hahahaha! You're right. I guess I shouldn't be calling you that when you always look so grumpy."
Almost as abruptly as it came, Dad's laughter stopped. He straightened his back, furrowed his brow, and pressed his lips into a thin, flat line.
I stared at him, genuinely confused. Whatever he was doing seemed to come out of nowhere—especially after everything a minute ago; I could hardly keep up.
"...What is that supposed to be?" I asked, the question slipping out before I could think about it.
"What is that supposed to be?" he fired back, monotone and mocking.
My eyes narrowed.
Ah, I see how it is.
This was supposed to be me. Except I looked—and sounded—nothing like that.
While I didn't really care whether my name got dragged through the mud, that didn't mean I'd let it happen for free. I always got my revenge one way or another.
Just as I opened my mouth—ready to throw mocking insults of my own—a loud, cackling laugh from my left cut me off.
"PFFFFTTTT—" Lily spat, her saliva flying across the table and even somehow finding its way onto me. I leaned back in disgust, and so did Dad, but Lily didn't stop.
"HAHAHAHAHA! THAT'S PERFECT, DAD! THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT HE LOOKS LIKE!"
"I know, right?!" he agreed proudly. "But he's going to say 'no, I don't,' in that same robotic tone!"
"...That's because I don't," I muttered, letting a thread of annoyance slip into my voice just to prove him wrong.
They both stopped what they were doing and turned to each other. Then—at the exact same time—they erupted into laughter.
""HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!""
Lily leaned over, jabbing a finger at me. "Awwwww, is someone maddddd~? It's okay to get offended, you know."
"Yeah," Dad chimed in, egging me on. "It's okay to be a little mad. We won't get hurt! We're family, after all! We'll forgive you."
I gave them a single unamused blink, keeping my face as neutral as possible. But deep inside, it'd be a lie to say that I felt the same way my face portrayed.
I don't know what's so funny.
I don't look like that at all.
I don't look anything like that.
But it wasn't like they could hear my thoughts. They just kept laughing over and over again. And by this point, it began to echo in my ears.
Whatever. I know I'm right, anyway.
Lowering my head and shrinking down as small as I could, I picked up my meal and started eating, swallowing my emotions along with it.
Mid-chew, a glimpse of how I felt slipped out in a soft murmur.
"I don't look like that at all…"
But under the weight of their combined laughter, they couldn't hear me. Still, the fact that I got the last word was good enough for me.
Eventually, both of them finally settled down. And with it, the familiar sense of silence our family dinners always carried returned.
And before I even realized it, I'd finally found a comfortable way to sit. It wasn't as comfortable as before—probably because I was still annoyed about the stunt they'd pulled—but at least I could eat with ease now.
The rest of dinner proceeded the way it always did, with no one uttering a single word. But compared to those in the past, this one was more memorable than the others.
Like always, I was the first to finish.
I stood up from my seat, carried my bowl to the sink, and dropped it off.
Just as I took the first step toward the stairs, Lily called out to me in an unnecessarily loud tone.
"Anddddd there he goes again. Back to hiding in his room."
"Yep," Dad agreed. "Looks like I won't be seeing him for the rest of the day."
It was the usual teasing about how I always left the second dinner ended. Nothing I wasn't used to. So, like always, I simply ignored them both and headed up the stairs.
Before I disappeared into the upstairs hallway, however, I stopped, turned around, and looked down at them.
They were preoccupied with their own dinner, so they didn't notice me—but I was fine with that. It meant that they wouldn't be able to react to what I was about to do next.
I took a deep breath, then spoke—louder than I usually did.
"You guys can keep complaining, but I'll never change. So you can keep on missing your 'wonderful Son.'"
Their chatter halted as they turned around, but it was already too late. By that point, I'd already disappeared into my room and shut the door.
I could vaguely make out the two of them yelling from downstairs. Maybe they'd gotten what they wanted, dragging that reaction out of me.
But from behind this door—it all sounded like incoherent, muffled complaints. Complaints that would never reach me. My words, though—those had reached them, clear as day.
And because of that, I let out a small smile.
I'll take this as a win for me, stupid Old Man—and my dumb sister, I guess.
I hovered near my bedroom door, taking in the muffled cries of the losers from downstairs until there wasn't a single one left.
When all that remained was silence, that was when I finally let myself collapse onto my bed and close my eyes.
It'd been a long day for me. I went out with Mei, talked to her Mom for the first time, and then had to deal with two animals at home.
Worst of all, I had a thirteen-hour shift waiting for me tomorrow. I was not looking forward to that.
I was tired. I was drained. I never wanted to do any of this again.
But…
It was fun—I guess.
With that final thought, my consciousness began to fade into the dark.
Sleep never came easily for me, but just for today, I was out like a light.
Ah—I almost forgot. I wonder if Mom ever came back inside.
It was a stupid thought, one that only surfaced because I was already half asleep. Of course, Mom came back. It wasn't like she could sleep in the car.
But little did I know… I wasn't the only one who forgot.
For a moment, Lily forgot that she was supposed to be in the car, too.
We both did.
And it was only when the living room was devoid of any people, when the room had been swallowed by pitch-black, that the garage door opened.
And Mom finally returned home.