TMIR Chapter 3: Those people

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What happened?

She was in a daze through the whole travel from school to the house, ignoring the soft voice of the little girl trying to engage her in a conversation.

If memories served her right, her parents had married for love when they were mid-twenties. And for a time, she thought herself one of the girl most fortunate people in the world.

Who knew that her paradise would be shattered?

Her father, one day, brought back a child, stating she was his daughter. That he just recently learned about her. Her mother had been furious and left home to her father’s delight, certainly. Like this, the man said that there wasn’t anyone to take care of the new child with him being constantly at work, so, he brought home the other woman too. Learning that, her mother came back, feeling that her marriage was on the line, wanting to fight for her home and contrary to everyone's expectation, refused to talk about divorcing.

Eyria understood that attitude of hers way later when she grew up. Ayleen née Enias was raised by conservative and quite archaic thinking like parents, for who, divorce wasn't an option. Her own father, after all, was the one who asked her to go back to her husband and her stay at home mother had supported this, saying that everyone could stray once but she must fight for her place. As the woman, she was to be gentle, forgive and forget, making so that he won't stray again.

Not only did they imply that it was her fault her husband cheated on her for neglecting him, they even encourage her to raise the bastard child. When she was young, Eyria really loved spending time with her maternal grandparents, but older, their company just gave her headaches for their generational gap led to multiples disputes. In a fit, she asked her grandfather if he cheated on her grandmother and if this was the reason they were condoning her father’s act. Were they her mother’s parents of her father’s? Her grandmother had slapped her, and ordered her out.

Like hell it was possible for that failing couple to live as they suggested!

Mother, under her parent’s dissuasion returned home to that broken marriage, trying to mend it back. Her father didn’t voice out a divorce either and the new woman didn’t stir that much trouble. A sort of agreement was set apparently between the three adults. Eyria didn’t know about the details.

They stayed in that uncomfortable position for a year or so. Who knew what the man thought by this but he later adopted a boy, as though the situation wasn’t messy enough as it was.

It caused her mother to go ballistic again. Around this time, her aunt was a frequent visitor of the manor, and each time, the women would end up shouting at the top of their lungs. Aunt Ayl’sha was like the black sheep of her family and the only one actively trying to convince her older sister to put a stop to this insane marriage. Nonetheless, her sister refused to heed her words. After one of their endless fights, her aunt had wanted to take Eyria away and leave but Eyria was adamant. She wanted to stay with her mother and no one else. Afterward, aunt Ayl’sha never set foot in that manor again.

When it was confirmed that her father was really planning to make the boy he adopted his successor, her mother would constantly fight with him. In the end, her father initiated the procedure of divorce and the matter dragged on for years. Ayleen was unwilling to let that woman have the privilege of being a wife ever. Forever, she would be a mistress, and her poisonous child would always be illegitimate. Those were the words her mother had once said to her in anger when Eyria asked why she couldn’t let go.

A child version of that illegitimate child was in front of her right this moment –instead of being dead-, with that wronged expression on her face since Eyria refused to acknowledge her.

Clarinda.

She was a girl who could cry at the drop of a hat.

If there was someone that Eyria hated more than her father’s mistress, it was his bastard child and even more than this child, she hated her adopted brother.

Callen.

He was sitting on a corner not caring about them both.

What exactly was happening here? Weren’t these people dead? Wasn’t Callen in jails? Was she going mad after all this pent up frustration she felt for all these years, was it finally gnawing on her brain?

Just, what happened to her?

They arrived at home and it was really like back then.

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TBYM Arc 1.3: Diamond necklace: the goddess's tears

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Emilia was still very much in love and was silently trying hard to get acknowledged by her indifferent husband. Amandine thought it was kinda cute, even if the forced angst was a bit annoying. Not only did Emilia have to deal with her husband’s cold war but there were also rivals that didn’t leave her alone. The couple’s relationship was in a stalemate, so entered Amandine and Androula. One was a twenty-year-old girl who had a crush on Alexandros, a child of one of the friend’s families, Androula; the other was his former mistress, Amandine. There had also been some more antagonists to this relationship: one of which was Alexandros’s mother who looked down on Emilia but eventually had been won over.

Amandine, who learned about the marriage through newspapers angrily visited Alexandros’s home when she knew he wouldn’t be here with the purpose to talk with Emilia. She lied, pretending that she was searching for Alexandros, making it seemed as if their relationship was ongoing even now. That cast a shadow of doubt in Emilia and some angst were thus added. Annoyed and depressed, Emilia flew back home. She could tolerate being called a gold digger but not cheaters.

Coming home to an empty place, it was then Alexandros's turn to repent. He finally learned to put two and two together. He analyzed his wife’s behavior since knowing her and realized she didn’t exhibit much of a gold digger’s behavior: she actually never asked for money, didn't go to parties and she was also very kind and respectful of everyone, even the staff. Annoyed by the sense of loss in him and his conflicted feelings towards the woman, the man confronted his cousin to know the truth. After some more angst, they cleared the misunderstandings and embarked on the road of happily ever after.

Their story was really such a hassle.

Now, she wasn’t sure what the original Amandine thought but she supposed it was jealousy and maybe, in the end, she did develop some kind of feeling for her partner and that, despite their earlier agreement. Either that or she was mad that he moved on. Another possibility being that she misinterpreted his gift. Alexandros himself hadn’t been sure, he never went to look for his ex and explained to his wife that his previous relationship stopped long before, as earlier as when he came back to Greece to see the woman who was supposed to be his cousin-in-law.

However, thinking carefully, it could really be that Amandine misunderstood the present and once she read the article featuring Alexandros’s wedding, the truth was like a slap and in bitterness, she lied to his wife in order to not let him have an easy marriage life. Nonetheless, after that move, she didn’t seek them out again and since this wasn’t about her life story, it was impossible to know what became of the woman.

Her misunderstanding could also be understood though. There was nothing that accompanied the part present. How was she supposed to understand that it was a parting gift? Just how many jewelries did he think he had given her these last three years they had been together? Though this one certainly was the priciest one, she still couldn’t read minds yet. So, she merely thought it was one of his many gifts. Though the man had said that he couldn’t promise her a future, he still said that, at the very least, while they were together, they were exclusive. Thus, in search of an explanation, she flew to his home. Though he never brought her to his family home, he would sometimes bring her to his apartment and having spare keys, she searched around for clues of his family home.

To give credits to the man, he had been very clear about the sort of relationship he wanted with her from the very beginning. His family was quite conservative, not only was the woman an actress but she was also a divorcee. Simply put: no question. If left to the hands of his parents, he would be marrying that family’s friend girl who just turned twenty-one. His mother had been hinting at her for a time now and Alex was tired of pretending to not understand so he simply stopped coming back home, instead, he came more to Amandine's apartment. While he was a frequent visitor, he made sure though to not spend a full twenty-four hours there let alone days, he had a number of penthouses and villas in many countries and while shooting anywhere near him and they happened to be in the same country, she didn’t have his qualm and was a carefree freeloader. So far, she had always enjoyed her life. Maybe with the passing time, the lines of their relationship blurred in her head.

Which was not something that could happen to the present Amandine though.

She was just one of the girls he walked by before finding the girl, while for her, he was a means to an end. And everyone was happy with this.

***

Today was her day off. Amandine lazed around, not feeling like doing anything other than sit on her sofa in front of the tv. That didn't last long though. Her phone rung and Alexandros's voice came out from the speaker, after the brief pleasantries he asked,

“Are you free on friday night?”

She briefly glanced at her agenda lying on the table before answering,

“Unless it changes during the following two days, I shall be. Why?”

“I'm having dinner with Rosvatti Petro and Diana Limbourn.”

Amandine had to sit straighter at that.

“Petro Rosvatti as in the producer and the screenwriter Diana Limbourn?"

She was genuinely impressed. Was he planning on sponsoring a film?

"Nothing could be hidden from you, pedhaki mou." 

Her lips lifted in a smile.

"A shame I have nothing to wear.”

Once more she worked hard in taking his money. After all, he would later refer to Amandine’s behavior and compare it with Emilia's and understands in the end that his wife wasn’t a gold digger at all.

Though he would scorn it later, for now, Amandine could hear soft laughter as he replied,

“A good thing everything can be bought with money and you look astonishing in everything you wear.”

After giving her the details of the time and the restaurant they were dining in, he cut the call.

It wasn't rare for them to dine in public. They had been photographed a couple of times and though the newspapers were actually publishing the truth while saying they had that kind of relationship, in the end, both parties denied it, saying they were simply friends.

When it was business-related, or during some special holidays like Christmas, new year or even valentine's day, he never invited her out. In addition, he mostly never introduced her to his partners and dear friends either, so there was no need to mention his family. The woman didn’t even know where his family residence was, precisely. However, to mere acquaintances or people who held no real meaning in his life, pleasure centered dinners, he wasn’t stingy and let her participate, and that, mostly when those who would be present would be people that could gain her some connections. It could be considered as him helping her out.

***

Friday was fast to come. He came knocking on her door at nine sharp but his gaze was oddly glassy and his face a little pinkish. He dismissed that remark as he led her to his car.

The night started great, really, if only for one more guest she didn't know was supposed to be here: Franco Roselini.

In the colon task of her dimensional blue board, things were spelled clearly. Short but concise. Enter the entertainment world, marry, divorce, hook up with Alexandros Andreou and finally, receive the diamond necklace named the goddess’ tears.

Since the story wasn’t in Amandine’s perspective, there weren't details thus she had a latitude to be who she wanted. The man sitting in front of her at this moment was related to hose tasks too, her ex-husband, Franco Roselini. 

Amandine had married a fellow actor at twenty-three. At the time, both of them had been the main actors of a series that was highly rated. She was still wondering who she should target but who knew that this fellow she was filming with would proclaim his undying love for her. The public was eager to support him, wanting to see their fictional couple become a real one. The result left them disappointed. Three years later, the divorce was pronounced in Amandine's favor and the idyllic partners became enemies.

For those in the know though, the marriage stopped being one as early as ten months after they pronounced their vows, Amandine finding her husband cheating with another actress. The agreement they had signed with the production prevented them from doing as they pleased and they had to wait for the ending of the series before falling out completely. Thus, in exchange for things to be shushed, she took almost all of his money. Bitter, he was hostile to her every time they met and she couldn’t help insulting him back too. How long could they keep on being polite this night?

As she saw his mouth turned into a sneer, she was ready to bet not long enough.

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TMIR Chapter 2: The school of back then

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Eyria woke up in bed, with a slight headache. Moaning a bit, she sat up. Although uncomfortable, she had thought that she would be more hungovered than that but she seemed quite fine actually. Rubbing her eyes slightly, she brought her hand to search for her phone and nearly fell off the bed. She blinked, waking up correctly now.

In front of her, there wasn’t her gigantic tv, nor was it her living room. Was she in a hospital? All around her was the white of the curtain on all four sides. She opened them, only to be met with the view of a couple more beds in front of her which curtains were all opened. Beside her, there seemed to be no one in this vast room. She brought her feet closer to stand up, freezing in the process. What happened to her? Why were her legs so short? So, o… she hurriedly lifted her hands, they were so short. Her eyes widened, panic kicked in. Stumbling, she stood up to search for a mirror; she needed to see her face!

At that moment, the previously closed door, opened with a young man smiling at her. A foreigner of mixed blood. Short brown hair and light blue eyes. She stopped and stared. Who was he?

“Oh, you’re awake. How do you feel?”

His voice was light and easy, his tone as if it was normal for him to inquire such as if him being here was part of the norm. What was going on?

Ignoring the question, she kept on examining him: he was wearing a long white coat, his brown hair filled with gel. Meanwhile, he came closer, fixing his small rectangular and frameless glasses on his nose.

“You slept through the first period, are you feeling well now? Feel like you can return to classes?”

She frowned,

“Classes?”

The voice coming out of her own lips startled her into speechlessness. She turned stiff and pale.

The man in front of her put a hand on her forehead.

“Still not better?”

“Don’t do that.” She warned, stepping back. She didn't like being touched. He lifted an eyebrow at her reaction.

“What a temper,” he mocked.

She clicked her tongue, not liking the way he was looking at her, as though she was a child throwing a tantrum.

"Does your head still hurt, princess?"

Eyria's mouth twitched but she reigned in the urge to scold, merely looking on as he marched to the table and sat behind the desk, beckoning at her to come closer. There was a chair in front of him, so she took place.

"It is the third time you come to sleep here, want to talk about it?"

Eyria kept silent, mostly because she had no idea what he was talking about or who he was.

"I heard your family had an additional member, want do you think of your brother?"

Eyria pursed her lips, fisting her hands on her thighs, dropping her gaze to her skirt. Right now, she knew naught of what the man was talking about nor where she was. She wasn't even sure the words were addressed to her. An additional family member? What a joke!

Looking down, it dawned unto her that she was wearing a uniform. She couldn't recall which school uniform though. A blue pleated skirt, a white shirt with blue sea collar and a blue bow tie. It was familiar, this much she realized.

"Did you talk about your brother to your father?"

Eyria frowned and lifted her face. The man seemed to consider the frown as she didn't want to talk, he sighed then asked another question,

"How is your relationship with your sister?"

"I don't have a sister," came out the reflexive sentence. It was almost automatic, to whoever asked about her sister, she would correct long before she even realized she said something.

"Don't you like Clarinda?"

Eyria frowned, this conversation too, seemed oddly familiar but for the life of her she couldn't tell why.

“I’m sleepy,” she ended up saying. "Can I go back to sleep."

The man sighed again, scribbling something in his notebook. Tough it was upside down, she could still read something about calling her parents.

"No," he said gently as he closed the book, "you need to go to class, princess."

"My head hurts" she insisted. She felt like, if she went back to sleep, then maybe she would wake up and everything would go back to normal again instead of whatever it was that she was living at this moment. But the man was unrelenting and urged her to back to class. Who could tell her what king of nonsense it was? Her body looked like that of a primary school child, was it that she, this thirty-something adult, was supposed to mingle with children and be taught all over again? It wasn't even like she knew which class she was supposed to go back to!

She insisted, insisted, insisted. In the end, he scribbled furiously some more in that book before letting her do as she pleases.

  

Thus, she went back to sleep. She really didn’t feel like exerting brain material on the happenings. Maybe when she’ll have enough sleep those nonsense images would free her mind.

Or so she thought.

That man woke her up later to let her know that the classes were over and the driver was already here. The man who newly came felt vaguely familiar two. Had he been two decades older, she would have said he was her father's driver, Phil. But this one was far too young. Maybe his child. She followed behind him as he held a backpack that was near the bed she was sleeping on.

As she walked down the stairs and corridors, the familiarity of the establishment wasn't missed on her. It was a school she knew. She wondered which. She had changed schools so much through her life that she couldn't tell.

She followed behind the man all the way to an expensive black car. The man polite opened the door for her and she saw, already sitting there, were two children. Upon closer look, it was a small girl around nine years of age and a small boy around twelve.

The spitting image of her stepsister and her adopted brother in their younger years.

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Chapter 1: First Encounter

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Williamson has started to drop by every single day since then. No matter how unpleasant she could be, he would still control his temper -not that he had much of that, to begin with- and come again the next day. For a reason only known to him, he took a fancy in calling her his mother. "Mother, I 'm here." he would say when entering. "Mother, I'm going" would be the words he used before exiting the room.

It all felt to her, as though he was mocking her still. She understood by the doctors' words that he wasn't. He was searching all around the world for experts and giving her medical reports to them for them to find or do some kind of miracle. He was even sponsoring multiple research in relation to that. Seeing her treat him coldly, some of the hospital staff felt it was their duty to try mending the relationship between him and her.

‘He is diligent’, those meddlesome people would say. ‘No matter the day, he is willing to come to spend at least one hour by your side, try to forgive him for whatever it is he is guilty of’. Though the words spoken hadn’t exactly been like that, they were giving that kind of meaning. She was after all an incurable patient who was sponging his money, the least they felt she should do was be amiable to the sole person willing to visit her.

Who could understand Fayre’s anger stemming from the fact that this very money he was playing with was actually supposed to be hers? It was her family legacy that he and his parents stole away from her!

However, right this moment he apparently wanted to play pretend with her and she was in no physical condition to refuse him. The man would come every day, sometimes in the morning, sometimes, at night. He would read her books that he brings in, and in the long run, she was simply unable to keep up with the silent treatment and since he forced his presence on her, she made him her personal lackey. She would choose the books he had to bring, the DVDs that he would have to borrow and he was also the one pushing her chair when she needed a breather. She thought he would end up boring himself and stopped whatever it was he was doing, but even months later; he would still diligently accompany her.

“I think that, if you had been my mother, I would have been the happiest child in the world.”

One day, a year, and many months since then, he had said that sentence to her. She couldn’t quite understand where it came from. He previously explained to her that he had actually put back her parent’s manor under her name again and going to inspect it, he found the infant room she had prepared when she was pregnant, which was, apparently, still filled to the brim as she had left it.

Was he trying to make amends? Recently, he had started –or at the very least that was what he was saying, how truthful it was, she would never know-, taking back her legacy one by one: her family manor, some of her apartments, some villas. One by one he was putting the deeds under her name.

“What do you want?”

She had asked him that question a lot and he had never given a satisfactory answer, and today too, he didn’t. Getting up from his chair, he kissed her forehead and told her that for the enterprises, she had to wait some more.

Her health kept on worsening. Maybe it was the aftereffects of the experimental medicine, but she ended up going into a coma.

She was in a coma, but incessantly, there was a voice talking to her. Having heard it every day for almost two years now, she easily recognized its proprietor.

***

The pain woke her up. A different kind of pain from the one she was experimenting a mere seconds ago. Then, she had been unable to breathe, her lungs as if on fire, each movement of her thoracic cage was torture. Now, though, the acute pain she felt was down her stomach. She could feel a warm liquid spreading between her legs. Fayre gasped, vaguely registering that she was able to touch her stomach with her own hands. The pain was so intense that her vision started blackening. Before her eyes closed completely, she saw, standing some feet away, a small child with eyes opened wide staring distressingly at her. 

He looked like young Williamson, had been her last thought before blacking out.

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Smiling Mage Chapter 2: Family life

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In all possibility, it seemed that he really did become human. Though he couldn't talk, his hearing was quite perfect and he could understand the language just fine. The younger woman, his mother apparently, was called Valenia while the older one was his grandmother, though he had yet to know her name. Valenia was always calling her "mother".

It wasn't easy being human. He found himself constantly hungry, a sensation he never felt before. More annoying than that was the fact that, since he was eating, he was also expelling the parts that didn't become nutrients. Bodily functions were really annoying! His first days, it was difficult to excrete and his grandmother had to help him. The matter was black and odorant, though that was only for the first days. Later, it became easier and pretty much didn't smell. Though he could now excrete by himself, he couldn't take care of it at all. What a joke, how could he when his body wouldn't move as he wished. So, he could only pee and poo his clothes and end up feeling dirty and uncomfortable. No matter how much he willed himself not to, he would still wet his body. He could only cry to be cleaned.

Adding to that, apparently, his mother was completely helpless when it came to him and had it not being his grandmother and Maeda, he wondered if this human body of his wouldn't have died several times already.

When bathing him, there would be times when that mother would forget to bring along changing clothes, then she would run to the house to take it, leaving him seated alone in the basin of water. It was slippery and at the slightest move, he would find himself underwater. Diligent Maeda would use his snout to help him up and surprisingly, the nightmare's fire wouldn't affect him at all, as though the animal was able to master what it could burn or not. Having seen the beast used its fire to heat the house, the demon lord knew very much that the blue light wasn't for show.

Other than that, this clumsy mother of his, after feeding him would sometimes immediately lay him down to sleep. He didn't know how but his grandmother would always be aware of it in those cases and she would come running and shouting, fright etching her features, “didn’t I tell you to help him burp, do you want to kill your son so early!”

Though she didn't seem to know much about babies, his mother was eager to learn and since his grandmother said to talk much to him, the woman would talk as though he was already an adult. This includes telling him all about her work and her prowess; bragging about her mount Maeda: the animal was so fast that it could be described akin to flying. She would then urge him to grow faster so he could experience it with her -his grandmother had deeply berated her when she stealthily tried putting him on the nightmare's back before-. Valenia also liked to tell him about her being an adventuress and being the number one at that. How much of it was true remained unknown though. But for sure, the woman was actually quite fierce and powerful. The ease with which she cut and transported trees barehanded could attest that.

Through her, he learned more about this world he was in. It was slightly different from the one he came from. He used to feel a different kind of energy around him and thought that, because he became human, his way of feeling energy changed but it turned out it was actually a different kind of energy altogether, going by the name qi. It was particles in the air, in the soil, in any living being or not. To be precise, those particles came from beings called spirits. They were supposed to be creatures that couldn’t be seen. Though that was said, the small baby could only look on as the small little things around him blabbered happily. Weren't they those famous invisible spirits? Was he the only one able to see them? They were small creatures like butterflies with humans bodies but pointy ears. They had different colors and there were males and females too. Some liked sticking to his grandmother and there were those who wouldn't leave his mother's side at all. A couple of them would come his way to play but they wouldn't really stick to him for long before going. At times he tried to point their existence to attention but no matter what he did, neither his mother or grandmother could see. Why could he? Wasn't this body human as well?

Although the time spend around his mother wasn't the safest, but she was the one talking to him the most, and even if she was most of the times putting him in strange situations -leaving him atop a tree while she went to search for this precious plant she recognized not too far, or hiding him behind a rock while fending off a giant boar, not realizing that she was actually placing him on red ants' nest- despite it all, he knew that she genuinely cared and anyway, every single time, it would turn out fine. So, there was really no need worrying, not like even if he worried it would change something. There was nothing he could do as he was right now. So, he could only absorb all the knowledge his lively parent had to offer.

Humans, supposedly, although possessed inner qi, couldn’t refine it, so the need for the spirits’ intervention. Magic beasts, however, could absorb the residual qi in the air just fine and use it by themselves without any aid, should they need it.

Humans, for their part, had two ways of using qi. They could form a contract with a familiar. Said familiar would be using the qi in the human's body. Or they could chant or draw spells for spirits. In that case, the spirit would be using its own qi. Depending on the spirit, simply chanting wasn't enough, sometimes there was also a need to do something in return for the spirit.

In that essence, his grandmother seemed to be in good relation with the spirits of this forest. She could command the grass and it responded. His mother was sometimes commanding to fire. They didn't do much drawing, but upon closer look, his mother wore a necklace with a diagram drawn on it while his grandmother had hers in her ring finger. One ring for each hand.

As for familiars, he didn't know if his grandmother had one, but Maeda was actually his mother's familiar. Familiars, he understood, in exchange for an extension of life and the disposal of power, would take and absorb your qi. They were beings not from this world but summoned from another one and depending on their ranks, could overpower the magic beasts of this world.

Though the woman talked about everything and nothing so long as she could talk, the demon lord couldn't remember her ever mentioning anything about his father. As far as reproduction went, wasn't it supposed to be between two partners: a male, and a female?

✧❈✧ 

Living as a human wasn't bad at all. Every time he opened his eyes, there would be someone to cater to his needs.

In this regard, the demon lord felt that becoming a screamer was his very own vocation in this life. In the beginning, it was frustrating that no matter what he did, only cries or babbles would leave his mouth. His facial muscles obviously weren't ready yet to talk and the matter of being unable to communicate made it so that he was really crying in the end. However, he understood that, at the slight noise, his mother or grandmother would come rushing to his sides to appease him. What a delight! So, when he was hungry, he would scream, unhappy, scream, bored, scream, even when he was sleepy he would still cry some more and tired himself completely before finally becoming quiet, indulging himself very much in the sensation of being coaxed. Sometimes he was crying was just for the pleasure of seeing someone else in the room with him. He liked it most when they cradled him and he could hear their beating heart as they softly tapped his back.

This time around, being alive didn't seem bad at all.

These tactics though, mustn't be used when grandmother wasn't in the vicinity. Sometimes, when left alone just himself and his mother in the house and that no matter what she did won't coax him, his mother would actually forfeit all dignity and cry alongside him leaving the demon lord speechless. At times, he felt that she was even more pitiful than him, and with tears in her eyes would coax,

“There, there little Myur how can you have such a powerful voice. You’ll turn us all deaf in no time. Come, stop crying already. This mother will cry too.”

The passage of time wasn't really something he was an expert about. He didn't count it like humans in his previous life for there was no sun, so to speak, coming into his abode. He only knew that from being unable to move at will, he became able to command his neck, after that his limbs, after, he was able to turn by himself on his bed. Though he wished to walk, his head was heavy and he could only crawl around, giggling as he went as fast as he could. Some sounds could be discerned from his mouth but the absence of teeth made it sound strange, completely different from what he wanted to say.

✧❈✧ 

As he crawled around on the green pasture following behind Maeda, he heard his grandmother's voice calling from inside the house. Maeda stopped, letting him catch up and hold unto its flamming tail which didn't hurt him at all. It was a strange sensation like touching a delicate cloth. He giggled. His name was called once more, reminding him it was time to eat. This time he obediently let go of the tail and before he could turn around, someone held him up in their arms.

"Grandma is calling, stop playing around," chided his mother.

"Mama," he said, ingratiating himself with the woman. Who knew how many days she spent pointing herself and telling him to call her that. Although he couldn't make many different sounds, it wasn't difficult to say that one, so he did. The first time he did it, the woman was so happy that she flung him to the sky, making him literally fly, and his grandmother, alarmed, knocked her on the head before safely taking him back. To the woman's frightened face, the little man responded with happy giggles.

He was sat in front of a bowl with greenish things inside. Looked like minced leaves, he couldn't be sure. He stared dazedly before turning to the two women. His mother was holding back a grimace while looking at her own greenish bowl while his grandmother was smiling encouragingly at him, holding the offending spoon in front of his mouth.

He stared for three more seconds before turning to his mother. 

"Mama," he said in a tone of complaint, half brought to tears. What he was given to eat kept on varying these days. Before he was only fed his mother's milk and some water, but he started being giving smashed fruits, porridge, but this was the first time that his bowl had that same thing his mother seemed to disdain! He refused! He was a child, he wanted milk!

"What is it, baby, eat it's delicious," encouraged his grandmother.

His mother stirred her plate with a wooden spoon, "delicious?" she muttered with an expression as if she wanted to vomit.

"Watch your mouth," rebuked his grandmother, "don't let him be as picky as you".

In a grimace, his mother turned to him and said, "Eat, it's delicious".

His grandmother was a naturalist aigue. She ate nothing other than those green things, turning to her for help wasn't going to change anything.

As he tried to appeal to his mother once more, the spoon was sneakily inserted in his mouth. The demon lord promptly cried. What was dignity, was he born with it! Milk, he wanted milk. What was this! He cried until his eyes became puffy. Maeda trotted inside the house, looking at him as though it wished to help but didn't know how to. In the end, his mother sided with him and he was able to drink his beloved milk. Well, that could help only a couple of times. At long last, some days later, his grandmother hardened her heart and he could only eat that foliage with tears rolling down his face, looking wronged. The more he ate, the more he understood his mother's lack of enthusiasm at lunch and dinner time. It turned out that those were her every day's hell time!

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