Morning sunlight slipped through the thin curtains of the small apartment room. Mila's heavy eyelids fluttered open, her body still drained of energy. She lay sprawled on the bed, her hair slightly disheveled.
Slowly, Mila pushed herself upright, sitting on the edge of the bed with her eyes fixed on the floor.
❝Only one hour of sleep… my body still feels so weak.❞
Dragging her feet toward the corner mirror, she combed her long hair with her fingers. Her face looked pale, but her gaze remained sharp.
"Hah… I really only slept an hour," Mila muttered, staring at her reflection.
She leaned closer, pressing her palm against the cold surface of the glass.
"When will I ever… get out of the Justice Team? When can I stop being the student council president? It feels like… I'm nothing more than a ceremonial puppet."
Letting out a long sigh, she trudged toward the door and stepped into the living room.
There, Mita was already bustling about. The younger girl was bent over, wiping the table with a damp cloth while faint local pop music played from her phone.
Mila glanced at her, then offered a faint smile.
"Hey, Mita…" she greeted hoarsely.
Mita turned immediately, her face bright. "Oh! You're already awake, sis? That's fast. I thought you'd sleep until afternoon. Last night you came home looking like a ghost."
Mila leaned against the wall, folding her arms.
"A ghost? That's pretty harsh coming from your own sister."
"Hehe…" Mita grinned, continuing her cleaning. "But it's true, sis. Your face was already ghost-level. Lucky I didn't record it, otherwise it would've gone viral across school."
Mila covered her face with her hand.
❝Is she my sister or a stand-up comedian?❞
"I'm serious, Mit," Mila spoke again, this time softer. "I'm tired of being the student council president. Tired of being in the Justice Team. It's like… I don't have time to just be myself anymore."
Mita paused, turning to her sister with a gentle gaze.
"Sis… I know the weight you're carrying. But I also know you've never really been alone. You have me, and you have your friends. Even if you complain endlessly, I'll still listen."
Mila fell silent, her eyes softening. She walked closer, snatched the cloth from Mita's hand, and tapped her sister's head lightly.
"You little wannabe philosopher."
Mita winced but smiled. "Well, who told you to look like a ghost first thing in the morning?"
Mila groaned, then chuckled. "Alright, that's it. I'm officially trading in my little sister. The real one must be sweeter than this."
"Hah!? You're replacing me!?" Mita pointed dramatically, faking outrage.
The quiet living room soon filled with warmth and light teasing. Yet deep down, Mila's unease lingered, stubborn and unresolved.
❝Will I ever really be free from all this?❞
---
Later, Mila stepped out of the bathroom, her hair damp, droplets trickling down her bangs. A towel hung around her neck, and her casual clothes—an oversized white T-shirt and black shorts—made her look more like an ordinary student than a student council president or Justice Team commander.
Dragging her feet lazily to the small kitchen, she pulled out a chair and sat, resting her chin on her palm. Her blank eyes wandered to the table as she muttered:
"Today… I hope there's some magical coffee that can keep me sane."
As if in answer to her prayer, Mita appeared from behind with a cheerful grin. In her hands was a tray carrying two steaming cups.
"Ta-da~! Sis, you'll love this!" she declared dramatically, placing the cups on the table before sitting across from Mila.
Mila stared down at them, narrowing her eyes.
"…Mita."
"Yes?" Mita replied innocently.
"Why… is this tea?" Mila's voice grew heavy.
Resting her chin in her palm proudly, Mita answered, "Because tea is healthier! You stay up too much, thinking about all kinds of weird things. From now on, I'll be your health manager!"
Mila lifted one cup, sniffed the aroma, then gave her sister a flat look.
"Coffee keeps me sane."
Mita slammed her palm on the table. "And tea keeps you alive!"
Silence hung between them. The sisters locked eyes, an invisible duel filling the air, the rising steam only adding to the tension.
❝Good grief… when was the last time I ever won an argument against her?❞ Mila thought, sighing inwardly.
Finally, she pushed the cup aside. "I give up. I'll make my own coffee."
Mita's eyes widened. "Hah!? Sis! That's selfish! I made this with love, you know!"
"Your love tastes more bitter than my coffee." Mila huffed, standing up to prepare instant coffee in the corner.
Mita sat quietly, hugging her tea. Her eyes drifted as Mag's voice echoed in her memory from their chat the other day:
"We can't truly understand someone's feelings until we experience what they feel. And even then… we still might not understand."
Biting her lip, Mita exhaled softly.
"…Maybe Mag was right," she murmured under her breath.
Meanwhile, Mila poured hot water, her hands busy but her thoughts elsewhere.
❝Even a cup of coffee feels more honest than all these stupid titles stuck on me.❞
Suddenly—
Ding-dong!
The doorbell rang, breaking the silence.
Mita jumped slightly, startled. "Eh, who's here this early?"
She shuffled toward the door in her slippers. Mila glanced up from her fresh cup of coffee, calling lazily:
"If it's anyone from the Justice Team, just say I'm still asleep."
The door opened. Mita froze, eyes widening.
"…Eh?"
At the doorway stood Kaito, his face pale. Beside him was a small girl with shoulder-length hair—Miraka—who waved enthusiastically.
"Hi, Mama!" Miraka chirped.
Mita blinked, pointing at herself. "M-mama? Me?"
Kaito panicked instantly. "M-Miraka! That's not—!"
Before he could explain, Mila stepped out holding her coffee. "Mit, who's making all that—"
The moment she appeared, Miraka stopped waving, her eyes bulging wide.
"Huh!? Why are there two Mamas!?"
Mila nearly dropped her cup. "WHAT!?"
Mita glanced between her sister, Miraka, and back again. Her face twisted in confusion.
"Mila… don't tell me… this is your secret child with Flying Teacher!?"
"WHAT!?" Mila and Kaito shouted in unison.
Kaito flailed his hands frantically. "W-wait! That's not it! Not at all!"
Mila's face flushed red, a vein twitching at her temple. "Mita! You've completely misunderstood!"
Crossing her arms like a courtroom prosecutor, Mita pressed on.
"Fine then… explain. Why is there a little girl calling me 'Mama,' and calling you 'Mama' too? Spill it now."
Kaito buried his face in his hands.
❝Why do I always get caught in the wrong drama, at the wrong time, with the wrong people…❞
Miraka tilted her head innocently. "What's wrong? I'm just looking for Mama…"
Mila rubbed her temples, glaring at Kaito. "Flying Teacher, explain. Otherwise, a brand-new rumor's going to be born right here."
Kaito stiffened, chest rising and falling. He glanced at the two sisters, then at Miraka.
"O-okay… I'll explain…"
❝Unbelievable. I once commanded troops in war—gave orders to hundreds of trained soldiers. And now… I'm about to be interrogated by two sisters who haven't even had breakfast.❞
Looking between them, he said firmly:
"Please believe me. This isn't what you think."
---
The living room fell into tense silence, broken only by the ticking of the wall clock. Four figures sat together: Kaito on the sofa's end, Mila beside him with an uneasy face, Miraka nestled between them clutching a pillow, and Mita sitting across with her hands folded on her lap.
Taking a deep breath, Kaito began calmly:
"So, here's the truth, Mita. That day, Mila and I were walking through Kromision Park. There, we saw Miraka sitting alone by the roadside. Her face… she looked terrified."
Miraka lowered her head, fiddling with the pillow tassels.
"Because… I had just been left behind… after being kidnapped…" Her voice was tiny, almost a whisper.
Mila added seriously, locking eyes with her sister.
"We couldn't just leave her. So I thought at the very least, we should look after her for now. But… Miraka immediately saw us as her parents. She insisted."
Kaito nodded quickly, raising his hands in a peace gesture.
"So… please understand, Mita. It's not what you thought."
Mita was quiet, eyes settling on Miraka's innocent face. Finally, a small smile broke through. She leaned forward slightly and patted her chest.
"In that case, Miraka… you can just call me Auntie, okay?"
Miraka's eyes lit up. "Okaaay! Auntie!"
Mita chuckled softly, leaning back with a thought that warmed her heart:
❝This child… she's just too cute.❞
Mila raised a brow at her.
"So… you can accept this now, Mita?"
Mita sighed, glancing at Kaito and Mila alternately.
"It's not that I can't accept it—but I need to make sure of one thing: can you two really take responsibility, if this child truly believes you're her parents?"
Kaito scratched his head awkwardly.
"Uh… well… that's the hardest part…"
Miraka suddenly beamed.
"But I'm happy! I have Mama Mila, Papa Kaito, and Auntie Mita!"
The heavy mood melted instantly. Mila groaned, covering her face with the weapon propped against the wall beside her.
❝Oh no… this is so embarrassing…❞
Minutes later, the room brightened with laughter. Miraka was happily playing with Mita, stacking little wooden blocks from who-knows-where. Mita looked like she was enjoying every second, transformed into a natural babysitter.
Meanwhile, Mila reclined on the sofa, her sharp gaze drifting to Kaito, who sat stiffly. Narrowing her eyes, she asked in a low, cutting tone:
"Teacher… why exactly are you here? And how do you even know my apartment address?"
Kaito rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish.
"Ah… well, I got it from Anwar. He happened to be at the Amiratul Hukm Tower, so I asked."
Mila frowned.
"And? Why bring Miraka here?"
Kaito looked at Miraka laughing with Mita, a faint smile tugging his lips, though his tone was firm.
"Because… I couldn't leave her at the Tower. If I did, Natasya might end up teaching her how to use weapons…"
Mila covered her face briefly with her palm.
"Oh God… don't tell me…"
With a resigned sigh, Kaito admitted:
"Yeah. Yesterday, Miraka actually shot at me. So… I figured it's safer if I leave her with you."
Mila froze, then eventually let out a faint smile.
"…Fine. I get it."
Miraka's and Mita's laughter echoed again. The little girl darted behind the sofa while Mita chased her with exaggerated theatrics.
"Beware! The pillow monster is coming!" Mita shouted, swinging a cushion.
"Kyaaa! Bad Auntie!" Miraka shrieked, collapsing onto the carpet in giggles.
Kaito rose, straightening his jacket.
"Well then, I'll take my leave. Please take care of Miraka, Mila."
Mila nodded silently, while Mita remained lost in laughter with Miraka, oblivious to the serious exchange.
Stepping out of the apartment, Kaito was met by the crisp Akarius morning air. His phone buzzed in his pocket. A new message flashed on the screen:
[Alps – Marry Academy]
"Teacher, please teach me how to use a weapon."
Kaito frowned, muttering as he read.
"Huh? How can she not know? Isn't every student in this city required to learn weapon handling?"
Exhaling deeply, he lifted his eyes to the brightening sky.
❝Looks like… I'll be dealing with a very different kind of student this time.❞