I decided to sleep in, and as promised, Zai made breakfast—steak and hashbrowns. I could feel his eyes on me as I ate, so I made sure to give him a thumbs-up of approval.
"You disgust me," RJ said, glaring at Zai.
"No, what's disgusting is having to look at you while I'm eating," Zai replied.
Things were tense for a moment—then they both started laughing in unison. I guess this is just their usual banter? A second after I had that thought, they were fist-fighting in the middle of the kitchen. What the heck happened to provoke this?! I could tell they were holding back, since no lightning or fire was used, but still, it was shocking to see. After about five minutes, they retook their seats, now with matching black eyes. They even started eating at the same time... That was weird.
When I woke up the next day, only RJ came down for breakfast. I didn't want to seem ungrateful, but I couldn't help asking,"Where's Zai?"
RJ shrugged with indifference."I'm surprised he stayed here this long, to be honest."
He then took another bite of the French toast I made.Zai might not be coming back anytime soon… So I guess I cooked too much. I put the leftovers away and sat on the couch, sulking a little. Then RJ sat beside me.
"Do you... want to watch something?" he asked softly.
"Yeah… you can choose the show."
RJ never puts his hands on me, so I know I can trust him. My thoughts drifted back to when Zai told me that RJ likes me... What am I supposed to do with that information?! Should I start feeling awkward around him now?
He picked a cute comedy series with just the right vibe to help me relax. RJ fell asleep after two episodes. Even with the show playing and RJ in the room, the house felt cold and empty for some reason.
Later that afternoon, Zai finally came home. I felt like running to hug and welcome him back, but I forced myself to exercise self-control. If my hug was unwelcome or made things awkward, I'd never forgive myself.
"Hey, where were you?!" I asked.He smiled at me and put one finger to his lips."Secret."Then he walked upstairs.
Is he being petty right now?! He did say I don't have to tell him anything—and sure, I guess that means he has the same rights... but why do I feel so bitter? Why does my chest hurt? I need to get myself under control. It's not like we're dating or anything...
That night, I wanted a midnight snack, so I snuck to the kitchen—Zai was already there, eating the leftover French toast. He saw me and greeted me as cheerfully as always.
"You're hungry too, huh?"I nodded and sat on a stool by the counter. Seeing him had thrown me off so much I forgot to get food, and now I was too embarrassed to get up. Zai got up instead, went into the fridge, and pulled out a dessert. The whipped cream on top was shaped like a rabbit—it was almost too cute to eat.
"It's pudding," Zai informed me, handing me a spoon.
I took it, still quietly staring at the dessert in front of me. Once I pulled myself together, I opened the packaging and took a bite. It was delicious—soft chocolate cake hidden beneath rich chocolate pudding.
"I think... this is the best thing I've ever tasted," I said.
Zai laughed and grinned wide."Good, I'm glad."
"Where did you get it?"He shook his head."Nope. Not telling."
I groaned."Just tell me, Zai!"
He scoffed, but then I added a soft, "Please," and his cheeks turned red all the way to his ears."...I'll... take you with me next time. So don't worry."
He still hadn't told me anything, but that response was more satisfying than expected. We ate together in silence before going our separate ways. Later, I brought the wrapper upstairs and searched the café label on my laptop... It was three cities away, specializing in cute, animal-themed desserts. And my dessert? A limited-time item that cost $70?!
I've been on Earth long enough to know that's a high price for something so small... Is that where he was this morning? Just thinking it might be has me flustered. And his promise to take me with him next time… keeps replaying in my head.
No. Even if Smoke forgot me and moved on... I shouldn't be thinking about Zai. I should be focused on RJ—he's the one who found me. He's the one who gave me this room.
I stayed up too late thinking, so I ended up sleeping in again. Zai made breakfast once more—this time, fish stew. It was something I'd never had before, but I enjoyed it. Zai watched me, waiting for a sign of approval. This time I nodded and said,
"It's good!"
"I caught the fish," RJ announced proudly.Zai glared at him.
"No one gives a f**k."
And that's when they started fighting again. Why does this keep happening when Zai cooks?!
"Hey, guys, calm down! I care! Thank you for fishing!" I shouted, hoping to de-escalate.As expected… it didn't work.
Later, we all sat on the couch and watched the comedy RJ had picked earlier in the week. Zai laughed the most freely out of the three of us. I couldn't help but admire his innocence. He helped me with dinner, making light conversation—asking for my opinion on the show, then sharing his own.
Is this what having a family is supposed to feel like?
After dinner, Zai helped with the dishes, then we went our separate ways. When Zai and Rai fight, I never feel worried one of them will die, and they make up almost immediately. No issue lasts longer than ten minutes. I'm not used to that kind of security.
When I come into my room, I feel comfortable and safe—but that also scares me. I've never felt this content before, without something or someone ruining it.
I was the one who cooked the next morning, and we all ate together. After that, RJ had an errand to run, so it was just me and Zai. I know Zai would never hurt me, and I can't imagine him thinking perverse thoughts—so why does being alone with him make me so self-conscious?
"Snowe..."Why is he saying my name like that as soon as we're alone?!
"I bought popsicles. Want to try some?"
I nodded, and he went to the freezer, returning with a blue frozen stick of water. I licked it... I like ice cream more, but this isn't bad. He sat next to me and we ate in silence. Then Rai came back. He had some papers in hand and laughed when he looked at Zai.
"What?" Zai asked."Nothing… You just look like you've had a lot of practice," RJ said."Practice doing what?""Licking popsicles," Raijian clarified.
Zai glared at him for a second, then started laughing."Oh? I look like a professional popsicle eater, to you?"
RJ joined in."That's right."
A second later, they were fighting again—with Zai shoving the rest of his popsicle down RJ's throat. I stayed out of it this time. Five minutes of boxing later, RJ said,
"Okay… I won't make that joke anymore."
"Glad you know how to own up to your mistakes, unlike your father."
I gasped at Zai's response.
"...Well... I am my father's mistake," RJ replied solemnly.
They were silent for a good two seconds before bursting into boisterous laughter—snorting even. This time, the laughter was sincere. All the malice from earlier had disappeared.
"Wow, me too! I bet he regrets having us every day!" Zai retorted.
"I bet he even cries about it!" RJ added."Oh boo-hoo, my sons won't be my slaves!""Imagine his crying face! It's hilarious!"
They laughed together for a while, then started talking about some sport they like. I didn't have any input, so I stayed quiet—but I was glad they weren't fighting for real.
I brought my laptop into the living room and sat in the armchair. Even if they weren't talking to me, it felt nice to be in the same space.
After they finished, Zai came over to me."What are you doing?" he asked.
"Checking the weather for the week," I answered, still focused on my screen.
Zai wedged himself into the chair beside me, squishing us together, then rested his head on mine.
"What's the temperature tomorrow?"
I pointed at the screen, and he laughed."I'm not reading that. I want you to tell me."
"Um... It's going to be in the low 70s (21.1°C) tomorrow... and it'll most likely rain."
He nuzzled his cheek against the top of my head, and I felt my temperature spike to dangerous levels.
"What about the day after that?"
I told him about each day one by one. Sometimes he'd ask for more details—humidity levels, air quality, stuff I didn't think he'd care about. We separated eventually and I went to bed.
The next morning, there was a gift bag waiting for me. Inside was a raincoat, an umbrella, and a cell phone—all with the same floral black-and-white design. Was this from RJ… or Zai?
I noticed a note on the bag. The handwriting was unfamiliar—neater than the note RJ left me.
"You need a phone."
A contact number was written below it.