Later that night.

I am witnessing a murder. A culinary massacre upon my innocent bony broth culminating from half a day’s delicate care and tender love.

“One more please!” Demon #2 shouts, handing me her empty bowl after gulping down every bit of soup, meat, and vegetables.

I was sitting right in front of her, but she kept yelling every time she finished. Now she's slurping her third bowl and I feel dead inside, watching hours of work turn into a competition of who can slurp the loudest.

“There still meat if you want the rest…” I ask, knowing the answer ahead of time.

“Yeyeye!” she responds, swishing her swollen cheeks around like when I mix Sasha’s alcoholic drinks.

“Ophi another!” Demon #1 shouts as well.

“But you have to eat the veggies too…”

“Ya bet!” the demons shout in unison.

We have lost all hope of having a peaceful meal together. My new torture was to watch these two chugging down my baby boy soupy.

His name was Sam Brothsen for those who care.

The dish for those who do care, unlike these two apparently, this is a kind of soup where you have meat and vegetables outside fresh then cook them in the broth for maximum flavor. However, these two ate so fast that they could have eaten it raw..

“Hm.” I look over to my Demon #1, who was swigging down his fourth bowl of boiling hot soup like a barrel of Gammy ale. “Papa! Slow down, it’s not a race.”

“Momphii iph phis!” With his fourth serving still in his mouth handing me his bowl and again I refill it for him. Done! I turned off the mini stove, put the pot in the sink, and returned to my seat. My first serving was still there, untouched. I glanced at the two people still competing and didn't feel too invested in my experience. The noodles were soggy, my meat overcooked and the broth a foggy pool of a once cleaner taste.

“Maphother Phophi.” Demon #2 asks again.

“There is none.”

“Phu uh?!”

“Yup, it’s all gone…”

Demon #2 noticed her competition catching up, so she quickly started eating the rest of her soup. But before she could take a bite, he put his bowl down and gave her a smug smirk. Then he swallowed his entire bowl in one gulp.

“I win.” Demon #1 jabs, snapping a leftover bone piece in half with his teeth. “No scraps either Girly.”

“I could always just use them as stock…” I mutter, stirring my soup with barely any energy. “I work hard to make something good and you two swig it down like water, hmmm. I see how it is.” Staring at them with the coldest, most lifeless eyes I can make.

I wasn’t angry.

Finally, noticing my dejected feelings, they made their move to swiftly remedy it.

I am disappointed.

“Ah, but it was good, Ophi.” Papa nervously says.

“Yeah, that why we wanted to see who coulda ate tha most the fastest.” Kyrie says nervously.

“Really is that” Turning to Kyrie making her flinch. “The truth?” Then to Papa, making him flinch.

“O-Of course, baby girl. I admit we may have gone too far, but it was exemplary even. Right Girly?”

“Y-you bet,- old man. The meat was super soft and juicy and the soup was super good.”

“You two aren’t lying to cover your tracks, right?” At my response, nearly in unison, I see both of their bodies flinch again.

They were trying to cover up their sinful deeds with sweet words, but I’m too smart for that. Something so small could never sway the pain from the crime I just witnessed.

The two jumps at another one of my icy stares.

“I don’t lie Ophi. That’s kind of my biggest strength, right, Ophi’s dad, papa guy?”

“No liars here strange girl does-,” He flinches at my gaze, “Do du-dutiful person. Ha…ha.”

“Hmph!” I turn away from them, definitely not because I was blushing or having second thoughts about forgiving them. “Compliments won’t help you.”

Why are my cheeks burning red?

Then Kyrie leans into Papa to whisper.

“She supes weak to compliments, ain’ she?”

“Of course, it’s part of her special charm. I’m glad someone finally understands this law.”

“Just like prana.”

“Just like Ki.”

“I can hear you both.”

They shook hands and seemed so happy together, with a yellow glow around Papa. Leaving me confused because they seemed like they hadn't gotten along before. Kyrie’s aura is still non-existent, but Papa’s was so bright filling her share of the room.

“What are you two talking about?”

They look at each other than reply in unison. “Nothin’.”

“Not fair. You shouldn’t keep secrets and.”

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

“Ima just gonna find out, anyway. Blah blah blah, I heard it all in the while ya washin’ my hair. Thanks for that, by the way.” Ki interrupts mimicking her.

“No problem.” My cheeks puff, venting all my anger into the soup.

I’m sorry, but mama needs to let out a little steam.

On second thought, I can’t do it to my baby, so I took small sips, enjoying the combination of sultry and fresh flavors blend in my mouth. No matter how bad I feel, a well-made meal always brightens even my darkest of moods.

Then I remember the two and my rage returns.

“Hmph! I am not cleaning up.”

Both of their eyes meet each other, suggesting to each other with a smile over who would be the one to clean with Kiki silently winning him over. Even without mind reading powers, I can guess how the conversation went.

Respect your elders.

Ima guest and THE friend, y’know.

Something along that line.

Papa sighs then gets off his couch, picking up all the dishes and stove. “I got it, baby girl. Now you can have some more time with you, oh so special bestie.” Snickering as he leaves.

“Papa!”

“Buh byee.”

Though he was just in the kitchen, scrubbing with the water on, I couldn't hear anything else.

“So, Kyrie what did you…”

Then Kyrie spaces out. For like ten minutes while I ate, she just sat there nodding, zoning out completely.

Kyrie stands up abruptly as I was about to sit down to read my Tales of Explorer Volume 65: The Render Beneath the Bender.

“Kyrie, what’s wrong?”

“Ophi, I need to get my stuff. Thanks for everythin.” She bows, sticks up the hairs on my arm.

“Will you be back?”

Kyrie didn’t respond, which was worrying.

“I dunno. If I had my stuff, then no sweat, but since I don’t, it’s kinda.”

“Dangerous?”

“Just a lil.”

Whatever Kiki was thinking about was really dangerous. If so, then maybe I should ask Papa to…no I can’t. I already asked him for so much, but…

“Kyrie, you make it sound like you won’t be back, but you’ll be right back, right?” I grab her hands, pleading with her. “You’ll be back…right?”

“I-I.”

For all that I met her, I knew Kyrie did not stutter, which made it all the worrying.

The thought of possibly losing a friend made my body shake as my breath thins.

“Stop being a bunch of drama queens.” Papa interrupts from the kitchen. “As long as Ophi trusts, you just come back as you please. Heck, you already live here.” Papa stops cleaning, turning his head to us with a wink. “You’ve given my little Ophi a new face that I haven’t seen. Take it as your reward.”

Kyrie still looks hesitant, even with Papa’s reassurance. If it really was that dangerous, then even if it makes me look selfish, I’ll have to ask Papa to help her. He might think I’m too spoiled to ask, but I have to at least try it if I can’t do anything myself.

“About that. Won’ it causes ya trouble? I wouldn’ wantcha to regret it, y’know. We’ve only been together less than a day so.”

“First of all, trouble is my middle name. True story actually, my middle name is Tru Belle, but don’t ask why. To sum it up, my wife is one hell of a jokester, so cause all the trouble as you can because when you do, I’ll fix it. Always have. Always will. Dunno how. But I will. Secondly, Ophi?” He then points to me dripping suds onto the floor.

Right what Papa always taught me to do, despite it being difficult for me sometimes.

‘An Akachi never regrets, and we never give up.’ Right Papa.”

The mantra that kept me going. The one that allows me to take my steps forward, even if I stumble most of the way there. Even if I give up on myself, I can’t give up on Papa’s words because even if I’m not a good one, I’m still an Akachi, too.

“Yes indeedy.” He claps with his soapy hands, spreading it all over the kitchen.

“O-okay, but why the?”

“Don’t, just, don’t make me explain the name,” He sighs, beaten down by the obvious Tru Belle question. “Just do it.”

“O-okay. But-”

“Get going, the faster you leave, the faster you’ll be back, so shoo shoo.” Motioning with his soggy, foam-covered hands.

“Right. I-I’ll try to make it back.” Kyrie opens the door, ready to leave.

“Dumb girly.” Papa calls out. “You will make it back. That’s an order by me directly.”

“Y-yeah. By- I’ll be back. Ophi. Old man.”

Now is the time to ask him to follow her.

“Hey!” He yells before she slams the door shut. “I have said nothing about it but come on. Girly’s not wrong, but it still hurts, you know.”

“Y-you’re not that old Papa. You're just kind of really old.”

“My child!” He grabs his chest, collapsing to the floor like he was having a stroke. “To think my last breath would be from a quip from my princess.”

I am done with his antics for today and since the entire kitchen looks like someone had sprayed all over it with soap and water; I got a drink from the fridge to calm my nerves.

Papa, taking a quick undeserving break on the floor as I stepped over him, grabbing a black fruity drink from the fridge reminded me of Sophia. More importantly, it reminded me of my broken I.S.D that from that encounter.

“Hands on your chest, please. I don’t want to clean more than the mess you already made.”

“Yes Ma’am.” Papa says following my orders.

“Ah, Papa.”

“Dead. Please come back later, please.”

“I accidentally broke this. Can you fix it by tomorrow?”

Papa remains silent as I squat down next to him, waving my broken gadget near his hands, feeling like I was forgetting something as I sat there.

“…hand it over.”

I gave him the broken device along with a cup of juice and decided our home was in need of a bit of sprucing up before Kyrie came ba—.

Ah! Dang it, I got swept up by Papa's mood shift again!

I jerk my head to Papa, who is still lying there pretending to be dead by the way, sipping out of a really long straw that I honestly had no idea where he got it from.

“Papa can yo-.”

“Oh, shoot.” Papa sat up, patting his pockets.

“Hm?”

“I forgot my boxed lunch in the classroom.” He jumps over, grabbing his trench coat and puts it in on in a single motion, then rushes to the door. By the time I could react, he was ready to open it.

Wait, Papa didn’t give Kiki lunch this afternoon. What lunchbox does he have to get?

“Huh? It’s right he—”

“So I’ll be right back, buh bye Ophi!”

But he slams the door shut, leaving me pointing at the right side of the sink where the boxes were drying.

“-re. Have a safe trip.”

I was alone, and the room suddenly got quiet. It went from warm and cozy to cold and empty.

Not wanting to feel bad, I distracted myself by cleaning the suds that covered the kitchen. That includes the ceiling, mind you, and when stepped on my ladder to clean it, only then did I see it. The sink Papa had been ‘cleaning’ earlier was completely still filthy. Filling me with a new feeling took over.

“Papa,” stomping my foot, “you overgrown tart!”

Looking upon the filthy bowls with pure unadulterated fury and pots still lying in the sink. Papa had turned on the faucet, then just left it running playing with my soap bubbles the entire time and had the NERVE to leave me to clean it. AGAIN.

“Papa!!!”