Ceadar lost the struggle.
There was no heroic last stand—just Judy's grip and his own short limbs working against him.
"I don't wanna—!" he protested, fingers digging into the bedsheet as she tugged.
"Too late," Judy said cheerfully. "You smell like you rolled in dirt."
"I'm four!" he shot back. "That's normal!"
She laughed. "Tell that to Mom."
The moment his feet hit the floor, resistance became pointless. Judy dragged him into the hallway, ignoring the way he tried to slow himself by planting his heels.
The bathroom door shut behind them as they proceeded to disrobe.
Steam curled upward as the water warmed.
Ceadar sighed dramatically. "This is humiliating."
"You say that like I haven't bathed you a hundred times already," Judy replied, folding her hands.
"That was when I was… smaller," he muttered.
She glanced at him. "You're still small."
"…Rude."
Judy snorted and crouched beside the tub.
"Sit."
Ceadar obeyed, arms crossed, sulking as he dipped his feet into the water.
"Hey," she said suddenly, tapping his forehead lightly. "You've been zoning out a lot today."
He stiffened. "No I haven't."
"You totally have." She tilted her head. "What were you even doing alone in the room earlier?"
"Nothing," he said quickly. Too quickly.
She narrowed her eyes. "That was suspiciously fast."
Ceadar looked away. "I was just… thinking."
"About what?"
"…Stuff."
Judy stared at him for a long second, then shrugged. "You're weird."
"Hey!"
"But," she added, tone softer, "if something's bothering you, you know you can tell me, right?"
Ceadar hesitated.
For a brief moment, the words almost slipped out.
About the blue panel.
About the strange voice from years ago.
But before he could say anything—
"Alright," Judy said, clapping her hands. "Enough sitting around. Wash time."
She handed him a cloth. "You said you could scrub yourself. Prove it."
He took it reluctantly and started scrubbing his arms.
"…your back too," she reminded him.
"I know," he grumbled.
He twisted awkwardly, trying—and failing—to reach the middle of his back.
Judy crossed her arms, watching. "Need help?"
"No."
"…You sure?"
"Yes."
He strained harder, nearly tipping over.
"…Okay, maybe a little."
She grinned. "Thought so."
"Don't get all smug about it!"
After the bath, Judy wrapped him in a towel and rubbed his hair roughly.
"Hey—! Be gentle!"
"Relax. Builds character."
"I don't want character," he muttered. "I want dry hair.
Judy laughed and gave his head one last rough rub before finally letting go. "Go sleep, drama king."
Ceadar huffed, crawling under the blanket. "You're the worst big sister."
"And you love me," she shot back, already climbing into her own bed.
"…Unfortunately."
Dawn came quickly.
Ceadar was half-awake when the front door creaked open, familiar footsteps echoing through the house. A moment later, voices followed.
"They're home," Judy murmured, rolling over.
The smell of food soon filled the air.
Ceadar shuffled into the kitchen with Judy not long after, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Their parents were already there—Victor setting his tools aside near the door, Hannah washing her hands at the basin.
"There you two are," Hannah said, smiling when she saw them. "Did you sleep well?"
Judy nodded. "Ceadar kept complaining about his bath."
"I did not," he yelled. "You attacked me."
Victor chuckled as he took a seat. "Sounds like a normal night."
"How was work?" Judy asked, climbing onto her chair.
Hannah sighed softly. "Busy. A few new patients came in today."
Victor stretched his shoulders. "And my back's going to hate me tomorrow. Framing took longer than expected."
Ceadar tilted his head. "Dad?"
Victor looked down at him. "Hmm?"
"How come you're a carpenter even though you have a Scavenger class?"
The table went quiet for a moment.
Then Victor smiled.
"Well," he said, "my dad was a carpenter too. Even with a Scavenger class, you're allowed to learn skills outside it."
"Really?" Ceadar's eyes lit up.
"It's not easy," Victor continued. "Learning skills outside your class takes more effort. Your class makes some things feel… natural. Other things don't."
"I didn't know that," Ceadar said honestly. "That's amazing, Daddy."
Victor laughed, a little embarrassed. "Thanks."
Hannah set a pot down on the stove. "Dinner's almost ready. I'm making chicken soup tonight."
"Yes!" Judy cheered. "I'm starving."
They didn't wait long before bowls were placed on the table. Steam rose gently as they began eating together.
About alfway through, Ceadar hesitated.
"Dad… can I ask you something?"
Victor glanced up. "Of course."
"Can I get a mentor to teach me swordsmanship?"
The room froze.
Judy blinked. Hannah paused mid-bite. Victor stared at him for a long second.
"Swordsmanship?" Hannah repeated carefully.
"Ceadar, you're still very young."
"You can wait a little longer," Judy added. "Like… a lot longer."
"I don't want to," Ceadar said stubbornly. "I wanna start now."
Victor leaned back, arms crossed, studying him. "Training won't be easy."
"I know," Ceadar replied immediately.
Silence stretched.
Then Victor sighed. "Alright. On one condition."
Ceadar straightened. "What is it, Dad?"
"You train on your own first," Victor said. "If you can impress me, I'll find you a mentor. I'll teach you the basics myself—starting tomorrow."
Ceadar's face lit up. "Really?!"
"Yes."
"Yay!" He nearly jumped out of his seat. "Thank you, Dad!"
Judy stared at him, lips trembling. "Huh…"
She looked away, fists clenched. "So this is what you've been thinking about."
Ceadar blinked. "Judy—"
"I thought," she said quietly, eyes almost watering, "that I'd be able to look after you."
Guilt hit him instantly.
"I'm sorry," he said quickly, reaching out. "I didn't mean to keep it from yo—"
Thump.
"Ouch!" He clutched his stomach.
"That's for keeping secrets," Judy said, sniffling. "Dummy."
"…I deserved that," he admitted.
Victor cleared his throat. "Ceadar. Training won't be a game."
"I know, Dad."
Hannah placed a hand on Victor's arm. "Please take it easy on him."
Victor exhaled. "I'll try."
Ceadar smiled quietly to himself.
"Alright, kids. Bedtime," Victor announced, standing from the table.
Judy groaned loudly. "Already?"
"Yes, Judy. Now get some rest," Hannah said calmly as she gathered the dishes.
"Okay, Mom," Judy replied, dragging out the words as she stood.
After dinner, they were escorted to their room. Hannah tucked them in one by one, spreading their blankets neatly over them.
"Good night, Judy. Good night, Ceadar," she said warmly, leaning down to give each of them a gentle kiss on the forehead.
"Good night, Mom," they said together.
Hannah smiled and left the room, quietly closing the door behind her.
For a moment, there was only silence.
Then Judy turned onto her side, facing him. "I wonder what class you'll get if you train with a sword," she said curiously.
"I'm not sure," Ceadar replied, still staring at the ceiling.
"Well…" Judy hesitated, then added, "if you're having a hard time falling asleep, you can come sleep on my bed."
"I'll never," Ceadar said immediately, shrugging.
"Hmph," Judy muttered. "You always like acting tough."
"Whatever," he shrugged it off once again.
But despite his words, sleep didn't come.
Ceadar couldn't get his mind off the translucent blue panel that had appeared before him earlier that day.
What was that? he wondered. It looked like a frickin' RPG game menu.
I wasn't hallucinating… was I?
He'd read about things like this in manga back in his previous life. Systems. Interfaces. Status screens.
But reading about them and seeing one appear in front of his own eyes were two very different things.
It still seemed impossible.
Ceadar lay there in silence, thoughts piling up one after another, until he finally exhaled slowly.
Okay, he decided, I need to get my thoughts straight—about all the important stuff I've learned so far in this life.