Day Three
Time: Probably around 5:30 a.m.
Do I have a clock to confirm that? No. But I'm wide awake again.
Another sleepless night—nothing new. Last night, I didn't just count giraffes… I upgraded to dinosaurs. Spoiler: it still didn't work.
Not that I was expecting much. It was just something to pass the time.
"Ara~ my munchkin's awake before me again?"
And thus began another cheek attack. My daily initiation into the waking world.
She picked me up, showering my cheeks in kisses. I braced myself for a routine ambush… but this was no ordinary assault—it escalated into an all-out war. I had no choice.
Activate: [Sleep Jutsu] — Tactical retreat mode, baby edition.
Once she was satisfied that I had "fallen asleep," she gently laid me back down and moved on to her morning chores.
First, she washed her face. Then she lit the chulha—a clay stove—and began preparing breakfast. The rich smell of burning wood and simmering spices slowly filled the air.
About half an hour passed. One by one, the rest of the household woke up: Father, then Brother, and finally… the last and laziest of them all, my adorable airheaded sister.
"Sania, sweetie, could you please wake Kaira up? Breakfast is ready."
"Okay, Mama!" she chirped, then shuffled over to me and gently nudged me awake.
"Wake up, sister~ it's breakfast time!"
"Wowe," I mumbled, doing my best to look excited.
She passed me into Mother's arms, who was already waiting with a warm cup of goat milk, served fresh and apparently with great pride.
"Here you go, my little munchkin—the world's most delicious meal! Fresh goat milk, just for you!"
"Wooow," I said again, trying to act as impressed as possible.
"Ohh~ my munchkin's so well-behaved today! Come on, open your mouth."
She brought the clay cup to my lips and gently tilted it. I drank, slowly.
The taste really is getting better with each passing day. Is that nostalgia or Stockholm Syndrome?
Later the whole family was outside, relaxing on the charpai in the crisp morning air.
Father lounged with a gentle smile, Mother cradled me in her arms, and Brother—ah yes, dear Brother Rohan—was in his own fantasy realm.
Stick in hand, he was battling some imaginary demon king, probably from one of his self-invented stories. His facial expressions were intense. Dramatic. Wild.
Definitely delusional.
Sania lay beside us, lazily swaying her legs off the edge of the charpai, humming to herself.
Raghavan (Father): "Ohh, my little munchkin, are you full? Look here!"
He hid his face behind his palms, peeked through dramatically, and then—
"Boo!"
"Wahahahah!"
Laughter escaped me involuntarily.
Raghavan beamed. "Look! She laughed! I made her laugh!"
Kaira's inner monologue: What a ridiculous adult. That was so bad it actually worked. The comedy of failure, I suppose.
"Boooh!" Sania added, jumping in with her own version of the game.
So, it's officially confirmed—that's where her personality comes from. Still, my sister is just too silly and adorable for her own good.
After about an hour of rest, everyone returned to their usual tasks.
Mother was washing the dishes, Father was outside chopping wood, and Rohan—well, he was still deeply immersed in his imaginary battle against evil.
"Heh… So you've finally shown yourself, Void King Azarath—the scourge of my 13th soul seal! Don't think I've forgotten the scar you burned into the very fabric of my shadow!"
Wait, what?
No way—has he already defeated the previous demon king? Impressive.
He's already on to his next dramatic villain: Void King Azaret—or Azr… something. I've lost track at this point.
As for my sweet, silly sister—she was off in dreamland, probably imagining something delicious.
Most likely eating it too… in her dreams.
"This battlefield may seem like fantasy to you, but to me… it's the final layer of the Abyss Realm—where only the cursed can breathe! And I've trained there blindfolded!"
Wow… his battle is really getting intense. He's swinging that stick like it's a real sword—faster and wilder than before.
My gaze slowly shifted to my sister, who was sitting right beside me… drooling in her sleep.
Please, oh please, don't grow up to be like him, my sweet, silly sister, I silently prayed—wishing with all my tiny baby heart.
"Tch. Always showing up uninvited, landing punches when I'm already down. But guess what? I've memorized all your combos. Hit me all you want—I'm not staying down this time!"
Yes, Azar-whatever—give him a good beating! Turn him into a pig-headed mess so I can show him in his future and watch his embarrassed face as he realizes this is part of his 'black history.'
"You think just because you're the Void King, you get to break me? Newsflash: I've died a thousand times in my dreams and still woke up swinging. So bring it on—throw your chaos! I eat despair for breakfast!"
Lies. He had rice porridge and two glasses of water this morning… and released both of them behind the hut shortly after.
"Nice try, Life. But I already signed a contract with rock bottom—and broke it. Every scar you gave me? I turned them into armor. Now it's your move. This is your final chance!"
"Aaah… what now?"
"You strike like destiny holding a grudge, Life… but I've danced with regret, dined with doubt, and still carved out my own legend. If pain is your language, then let me scream back in fluent rebellion!"
This is getting really good… I wish I had popcorn and a cold drink. Or even better—samosa with a steaming cup of tea.
"My turn, Void King Azarath! I'm done playing defense—feel the wrath of every dream you tried to crush! This fist carries the weight of every 'almost' and 'not yet'—and it's heading straight for your throne!"
Wow… what an intense grudge for someone so small.
"I warned you, Void King Azarath… I don't break—I evolve. This strike? It's for every silent scream, every midnight war you thought I'd lose. Now taste the fury forged in rock-bottom fire!"
Wasn't it just 'rock' earlier? When did it evolve into rock-bottom fire? And seriously, where is he learning this stuff from?
"Hah… On your knees now, are you, Void King Azarath? Funny—something so cruel bleeds just like everything else. Remember this moment… because next time you come for me, I'll be stronger. And I won't show mercy."
Well, that was a short battle. But does he really need to shout the villain's full name every time? And again—where is he getting these dramatic lines from?!
For a five-year-old, his vocabulary is suspiciously intense.
My eyes drifted back toward Sania.
Please, my dear silly sister, don't turn out like him.
...She won't, right? Right?