Morning spilled like warm honey across a wide bed, where a statuesque big sister and three little girls lay still as lilies on a pond.

Two of them—one blue-haired, one blonde—were wrapped around each other like ivy on a pillar, so tight even the heavens couldn’t pry them apart.

The third was tucked in Alicia’s arms like a kitten in a soft nest, yet Alicia’s ample chest was a mountain range, forcing the girl to curl up to find space.

Sweat beaded on the girl’s brow like summer dew, and her knitted brows said last night had been anything but gentle.

——————

Before the mirror, four faces washed like ripples under a stream, while Lian puffed her cheeks like a pouting sparrow.

“Hmph! Alicia-sis, you too! Why’d you squeeze me so tight last night? I woke drenched like after rain and had to bathe again.”

Alicia gave a sheepish smile like a guilty fox showing its tail. “Well~ it was… force majeure, you know? I carried you back and meant to sleep, but sleep wouldn’t come, like a crab scuttling away.”

“So I got up for hot milk, like steam curling from a teacup, and just happened to meet Remi and the others, like ships passing at dawn.”

“We just happened to walk by your room, like a breeze crossing a gate, and just happened to find the door unlocked, like a shell left open.”

“Then I just happened to feel sleepy, like dusk closing the eyelids, so I had Remi and them come sleep too—call it bonding under one quilt.”

Hearing that cascade of “coincidences,” Lian felt a pinch of pity for Ling, like seeing a sapling growing under leaning eaves.

“Mm~ coincidence, huh~ got it,” she said, voice smooth as a still lake.

Alicia glanced at Lian, blank as a clear sky. She believed that? Was she running a fever like a candle burning hot?

“You… believe me?”

Lian saw the question hanging like mist, but she let it drift and only smiled, voice sing-song like wind chimes. “Of—course~.”

For no reason, a chill crept up Alicia’s back like frost on a window, and she shivered.

………………

Clack.

Remi set a plate down before Alicia, the porcelain ringing like a pebble in a brook. “Miss Alicia, Miss Ling made you this heartfelt breakfast.”

“She said if you don’t finish it, she won’t talk to you today,” Remi added, words light as feathers but landing like stones.

Alicia stared at the “breakfast” breathing black vapors like a storm cloud, and she swallowed hard like a fish snagged on a hook.

If she ate it, her voice might die like a blown-out candle—no, she might not rise all day, like a log sunk in a river. Was this… punishment?

“Ling… why did you suddenly decide to cook me breakfast?” she asked, voice careful as a foot on thin ice.

Lian answered with a bright smile like sunlight through leaves, a soft warmth tinged with spring. “No reason.”

“I just happened to pass the kitchen, like a cat wandering alleys, and happened to see Remi and them cooking, like swallows building nests.”

“I happened to feel bad for Remi doing chores so young, like a bud carrying snow, and happened to remember a big bad boss squeezing child labor.”

“So I happened to try cooking once, like dipping a brush in ink, and I made some for Remi and them too, see?” Her eyes curved like crescent moons.

Alicia, buoyed by the hope of solidarity, glanced at Remi’s plates—only to see glowing dishes like morning sun, while hers sat there like a charred meteor.

The gap was a canyon under moonlight, and Alicia’s heart muttered like a kettle boiling, though her lips stayed shut for fear of “more coincidences.”

Seeing Alicia stall, Lian urged with a sing-song that coiled like silk. “Eat up~ I worked so hard on it, A—li—ci—a—sis—ter.”

Ah! To the gallows then, Alicia thought, steeling herself like a warrior before rain.

She scooped a heaping spoonful like lifting a shovel of earth, shut her eyes like nightfall, and shoved it into her mouth like a daredevil dive.

“Hm?” No assault of foulness rushed her like a skunked wind; instead, something slick wriggled like a friendly eel, and a gentle sweetness flowed like a brook.

It was unexpectedly delicious, a hidden spring under ash, and Alicia froze like a deer in moonlight.

How could something that looked like a burnt omen taste like a festival? Was this despising her cooking like a shadow mocking a flame?

Was this looking down on her from a tall tower? The thought stung like nettles, then melted like sugar.

Fine—despise away, look down all you want, she decided, because with food this good, she’d welcome scorn like rain in a drought.

(Masochist-Taming System activated—Mission Target One: Train Alicia.)

A strange voice drifted through the dining room like a breeze no one felt; only readers with a god’s-eye view could hear it, while Alicia and the others stayed oblivious.

Watching Alicia eat big bites of her dish like a squirrel with treasure, Lian felt a chef’s joy blossom like plum in snow.

She only meant to spook Alicia, like clapping in a quiet hall; if Alicia fell ill, that stingy little thing inside Lian would pitch a fit like thunder.

“Heh-heh~,” she chuckled, sound small as a cricket.

Catching Lian staring and not eating, Alicia rapped her lightly on the head like a knuckle on a melon, then lectured with adult gravity like a school bell.

“Don’t just stare! Kids need to eat, not nibble air. Hurry up—school’s waiting, or we’ll be late again like turtles.”

Shyness warmed her ears like sunset, because who likes being watched eat like a lumberjack?

“Okay, okay~~,” Lian chimed, and she picked at her plate like a bird pecking grain, though her gaze kept sliding to Alicia like a moth to flame.

——————

After breakfast, Alicia hustled the three little ones into the car like kittens into a basket, tossed in clothes like leaves, and told them to change on their own.

She slid into the driver’s seat like a blade into a sheath, pulled tea-tinted shades from nowhere like a magician’s scarf, and put them on in one smooth stroke.

A remote appeared in her hand like a lucky coin, and she thumbed the red button, finger precise as a hawk’s beak.

Lian blinked, confusion bubbling like a pot. “Alicia-sis, what are you even doing? Aren’t you starting the car?”

Alicia pressed a finger to her lips like a feather, then murmured a reminder light as mist. “Make sure you put your clothes on right—don’t wear them inside out.”

Lian bristled like a cat. Three-year-olds make that mistake, not her; she was over four hundred, ancient as a pine on a cliff. “I’m not you—how could I wear—”

Before she finished, the traffic light ahead flashed red to green like a dragonfly flicking wings, and a faint “go” whispered like a ghost in wind.

Vroom!

The engine roared like thunder splitting clouds, Alicia sank her foot like an anchor, and the car shot off like an arrow loosed from a bow.

Caught off guard, Lian flew backward like a leaf in a gust, landing on Remi, while Flan flopped onto Lian, the three stacked like a “kiddo burger.”

——————

Today’s headlines carried a thunderclap of a story, ink splashing like rain.

[Reports say that around 7 a.m., a black luxury sedan appeared on the roadway like a phantom horse, then displayed driving skill sharp as a falcon’s dive.]

[It slipped past every obstacle in bizarre ways, like water finding cracks, and even used the legendary gutter-run cornering, a myth slicing through fog.]

[Witnesses claimed the black sedan was the Moser Empire’s fastest legend, a comet that appears only at 7 a.m., trailing a woman’s loud laughter like rolling drums.]

[Today there were also the screams of an underage girl, high as a skylark—reason unknown. We’ll bring you more details as the clouds part.]