“…Name?” The little one mouthed the last two words, head wobbling like a puzzled sparrow.

“Right, your name~ What’s your name?” Dreamsound asked, eyes bright like lanterns on a lake.

“?”

Their tongues were two rivers that didn’t meet. No matter how Dreamsound asked, the girl couldn’t catch the meaning.

“Why aren’t you talking? Why!”

“Talking…? Why…?”

“Huh? Do you not understand me?” Dreamsound paused, a breeze of thought stirring. Mom had picked this new sister up. Not understanding was normal.

“My… words…?”

“Guh.”

Dreamsound narrowed her eyes, lids sliding down like twilight clouds. She watched, then sighed, the sound soft as wind leaving bamboo.

This sister really didn’t get it. It wasn’t a joke.

“Fine… if you don’t understand, I’ll teach you!” Dreamsound planted both hands on her hips, confidence rising like a sun.

“Teach… me?”

“Yep, I’ll teach you~ You’re my little sister, after all~” Dreamsound reached out and ruffled her hair, laughter bubbling like spring water.

Her hair was silk-smooth, and she carried a milk-sweet scent, warm as morning bread.

They wrestled with words all morning, and Dreamsound almost got spun mad, like a top.

The girl only repeated what Dreamsound said. Whatever came out, she echoed the last few words like a talking magpie.

“Argh, you’re driving me nuts! Do you even understand?”

“Understand…? Ah~?” The blue-haired girl tilted her head, smiling with a mischief-glint, cheeky as a fox cub.

Heat puffed up in Dreamsound’s skull like kettle steam. That smile felt like a tiny needle pricking pride.

“!!!”

“Sigh.” Dreamsound flopped onto the sofa, limp as a washed kite, not wanting to move.

The little sister leaned in, pressing softly against her side. Small hands nudged her shoulder, gentle as feathers. Dreamsound glanced over, then feigned sleep, closing her eyes like shutters.

“Mm… whimper…” After repeating a few useless nudges, the blue-haired girl deflated, gloom settling like rain. She curled beside Dreamsound, imitating her posture, and shut her eyes.

Dreamsound quietly peeled one eyelid open, a cat in the reeds. Once the girl’s breathing smoothed into sleep, Dreamsound sat up from the sofa.

‘Mm, my hand…?’

One hand was pinned under the girl. Dreamsound tried to slide her right hand free, slow as a fish slipping from weeds. No luck. Her fingertips touched that soft, bouncy cheek, and a tremor rippled through her heart.

‘So soft… softer than Mom’s.’

Her eyes flicked, a small spark lighting. A strange idea fluttered in.

“Ah… umm. Slept so well~” Yaya stumbled out of her room with a yawn, comfort glowing on her face like sunshine through gauze.

“Huh…?”

The sight snagged her breath. Little Dreamsound sat on the sofa, hugged by the tiny newcomer, and was kneading the girl’s face like dough?!

When did they get this close?

And why wasn’t the kid fighting back at all?

When Yaya was small, her brothers and sisters had gone too far, rough hands and bullying games. Cheek-squishing left a thorn in her heart, a shadow that stuck like burrs.

Dreamsound seemed to have it too.

She’d been squished plenty as a child.

‘Still, she’s getting… doted on and didn’t wake up? This kid’s heart is huge.’

If Yaya hadn’t found her, the child might have frozen without even knowing.

Yaya let out a relieved breath, like mist easing off a pond. Then she called out, “Alright, Dreamsound. Don’t bully your sister. I’m making lunch. What do you want?”

“Grilled fish! Giant lobster! Pan-fried sea turtle eggs!”

“Okay, okay…” Yaya gave a helpless smile, then swam toward the kitchen, flipping on the water-separation rig to light the fire.

You could spark flames in soul-water form, but the heat was low, like coals under snow. For real meals, separated fire was better. The cooking smoke drifted into bubbles and rode hidden vents to the shore, then got refined away by magic, clean as rain.

She didn’t need to buy ingredients. Say the word to the maids, and the sea would open its pantry. Fresh goods arrived in about half an hour, swift as gulls.

After an hour of dance with pot and flame, Yaya plated the dishes Dreamsound craved. She eyed the leftover cuts on the board, hesitation hanging like a slow tide.

‘Should I try something new?’

Aside from sleep, making proper meals was the one craft that set her heart alight, soft as embers. Magic and martial arts didn’t suit her hands. Ruling a nation or playing power games was a language she couldn’t speak, strings she couldn’t pluck. Maybe she was meant to be an ordinary mom, warm as a hearth.

Born royal, but with almost no grand deeds. Still, she had parents and elders who loved her, blessings sprinkled like dew. That was fortune inside misfortune.

Truth was… Yaya had talent. In battle or study, she wasn’t behind her siblings. Her temper was the stone in the path; she despised the royal way of schooling. So she ran, stubborn as a wild horse.

She found the right person anyway. Married early, yet her days flowed carefree, like a clear stream.

Dreamsound inherited her mother’s gifts. She just played harder, like a kite that refused the string.

“Smells amazing!” The aroma hit, and Dreamsound’s belly protested like a drum. She dropped her sister and slid into her seat, snatching chopsticks and stealing a taste.

“No, Dreamsound… As the big sister, you call your little sister to eat first. Don’t start before her, just like Mom tells you.” Yaya tapped Dreamsound’s forehead lightly, a willow switch on water, then lifted a slice of fish to taste, savoring like a connoisseur.

Mom, that’s not persuasive…

Dreamsound shot her mom a look, sharp as a sparrow’s peck, and let a small storm brew.

“Hmph… You’re an adult. Don’t eat first either. Come with me to call her!”

“…”

Yaya hadn’t expected to be scolded by her daughter. Color rose on her cheeks like cherry petals, and she set down her chopsticks.

“Okay, okay, together it is…” Yaya pouted a little, then, while Dreamsound wasn’t looking, snatched the chopsticks. “Hehe~ No sneaking bites, Dreamsound!”

“Ah! Mom, you villain!”

Dreamsound swung tiny fists and thumped her mother’s shoulder, a drumroll without hurt. She’d planned to grab a fried egg and stuff it into her mouth before they went.

The little one slept deep, like a stone under the sea. Even with them standing by, calling loud and rocking her side to side, there was no sign of waking. Yaya’s look turned odd, like a fish seeing a lantern. The girl didn’t seem sick. Just plain knocked out.

Still, that was too deep a sleep…

Then the little one twitched her nose, sensing the kitchen perfume drifting like ribbons through the opened panel. Hunger tugged her awake. She blinked, then rolled off the bed neither fast nor slow, thumping to the floor. Her head bumped and went a little red, but she only knit her brows and kept crawling toward the table, stubborn as a turtle.

“Don’t crawl on the floor, little one.” Yaya sighed, warm as steam, scooped her up in white arms, and carried her to the table. She set her on a stacked chair, safe as a nest.

“Here~” Yaya handed the prepared bowls to both of them. This time, the little one didn’t dive in. She watched, curious as a seal, studying their hands.

Seeing her sister copy her, Dreamsound grew proud, posture rising like a banner. She lifted her chopsticks and showed off, neat and clear, how to eat.