Chaos At The Dinner Table

Dinner at Kael's house was always a strange experience. Between Kikidori's sarcasm, Ere'ana's protectiveness, and Aralyn's relentless energy, Kael often found himself wishing he could just eat in peace. Tonight was no different.

Kael poked at his food, trying to shake off the awkwardness from earlier with Aurora. The accidental kiss still lingered in his mind, and Sean's texts weren't helping. He just wanted to get through dinner without any trouble.

"So…" Ere'ana's voice broke the silence, her tone casual but sharp, "does that Aurora girl like you?"

Kael froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. His heart jumped, but somehow—by some miracle—he managed to keep a straight face. "No," he said quickly, setting his fork down. "She's just my partner for the project."

Ere'ana raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Oh, really?" she said, her voice dripping with skepticism. "Then what's on your arm?"

Kael blinked, confused. "What arm?" he asked, trying to play dumb.

Ere'ana didn't wait for an answer. She leaned over and lightly pushed up the sleeve of his shirt, revealing his forearm. Kael's stomach sank.

There it was—hearts with "A"s inside, Aurora's name scribbled in graffiti, "A+K," "K♥A," and even "I ♥ A" scattered all over his arm in pen. Kael mentally cursed himself for not washing it off after Sean's teasing earlier.

Kikidori, who had been silently watching the exchange, burst out laughing. "Busted!" he howled, leaning back in his chair. His laughter was so uncontrollable that he tilted too far and fell backward, landing on the floor with a loud *thud.*

Kael's face burned with embarrassment as he tried to stammer out an explanation. "It's… it's a different Aurora!"

Kikidori, still laughing, climbed back to his feet and smirked. "Sure, kid. When's the wedding?"

Kael clenched his fists, his face red with frustration. "Shut up!" he snapped, his voice loud and defiant. For an eleven-year-old, Kael had more audacity than most grown men.

Kikidori raised his hands in mock surrender, chuckling. "Ouch, kid. That's harsh."

Ere'ana shook her head, her angelic features glowing with a mix of amusement and disapproval. "Y'know," she said, turning to Kikidori, "you should read something constructive for once."

Kikidori snorted. "Like what?"

Ere'ana's eyes sparkled mischievously. "The Bible."

Kikidori groaned dramatically, slumping in his chair. "Anyone got a rope and a chair?" he muttered under his breath.

Kael couldn't help but smirk as he watched his parents bicker. Ere'ana, determined to make her point, handed Kikidori a Bible. He stared at it like it was a pile of garbage before casually setting it ablaze with a flick of his finger.

"Problem solved," Kikidori said with a shrug, tossing the ashes into the air like confetti.

Before Ere'ana could scold him, Aralyn jumped out of her chair and hugged Kael tightly. "Kael!" she squealed, clinging to him like a barnacle.

Kael groaned, trying to pry her off. "Get off me," he muttered, glaring down at his niece.

"No!" Aralyn said stubbornly, squeezing him tighter.

"Aralyn," Yumi called from across the table, her voice firm but kind, "come here."

Aralyn hesitated, then reluctantly let go of Kael and skipped back to her mother. Kael sighed in relief, brushing imaginary dust off his clothes.

Without a word, Kael stood up and started walking to his room. He carried himself with the confidence of someone who owned the place, which wasn't entirely surprising given his heritage. Kikidori watched him go, leaning back in his chair again.

"That kid thinks he's so cool," Kikidori said with a smirk.

Ere'ana gave him a pointed look. "He's your son."

"Yeah, I know," Kikidori replied. "But what he doesn't know is that one of these days, life's gonna knock him down hard."

Kael, who had just reached the stairs, paused for a moment. He clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. He was already getting knocked down—by bullies at school, by the weight of expectations, by everything that came with being the son of Kikidori. And his father's casual dismissal only fueled the simmering resentment in his chest.

He took a deep breath and continued up the stairs, his mind racing. One day, he thought, things would change. One way or another.

End of Chapter 42