"Ahhhh, it's good to be home!" Ayaka groaned in pure bliss as she collapsed face-first onto her bed. Her arms sprawled out like she'd just finished running a marathon, and her body sank into the plush mattress like it was a cloud sent by the gods, a haven after days of relentless sightseeing and constant motion. The soft fabric of her sheets felt like a luxurious embrace after the hotel's unfamiliar bedding, and the familiar scent of her own room was a comfort she hadn't realized she missed so much.
The trip had been short, just a weekend, but it had been fun. More than fun, for the first time in forever, their family had actually gone somewhere together, done things together, truly shared experiences. They had smiled together, laughed together, and connected.
And most shocking of all?
She'd actually liked it.
A lot. Far more than she had ever anticipated. The genuine warmth, the shared laughter, the simple presence of her parents, both truly engaged and happy, had been a revelation.
Ayaka lay there, blinking up at the ceiling, a soft, contented smile playing on her lips. Who would've thought having two loving parents, truly present and engaged in their lives, could be this amazing?
It almost felt like one of those fantasy slice-of-life anime she secretly enjoyed, the kind where families were always happy and supportive—except, you know, with less superpowered perverts and awkward misunderstandings, and more genuine, heartfelt family warmth that felt utterly authentic.
For the longest time, she'd harbored a deep, simmering resentment for the man who was her father. She'd hated him. Hated how he ignored her, how he was always distant, always preoccupied with his own demons. Hated how she used to sit by the front door, a small, hopeful child, listening for his footsteps, praying he'd come home sober, hoping he'd want to play or tuck her in or… anything that resembled a normal father-daughter bond, anything that showed he cared.
And when he did come home? It was worse. The shouting, the crashing, the tears, her childhood had been colored by dread, by the constant fear of another argument, another disappointment that would shatter the fragile peace.
She remembered envying her classmates, watching the other girls get picked up by smiling dads who swung them around, held their hands, braided their hair, called them their little princesses, their eyes shining with adoration.
Meanwhile, her dad… hadn't even known her birthday half the time, let alone the color of her favorite dress or her dreams.
So when he changed, suddenly, completely, after that mysterious accident, it had felt fake. Too good to be true. She'd expected it to be an act, a temporary facade that would eventually crumble, revealing the same distant, distasteful man underneath.
But over time, it didn't fade. His efforts were consistent, his affection unwavering, his presence undeniable. And slowly… she'd let herself believe it, allowed herself to hope.
She smiled to herself, a private, almost mischievous thought forming, a hint of her usual sarcasm.
If she'd known all it took was a near-death accident to turn him into an actual decent human being, a truly loving father, maybe she would have planned one for him ages ago, a dark, humorous twist.
She let out a short giggle at the dark thought, then yawned, a wide, sleepy stretch, and rolled over onto her side. Her limbs were heavy, her eyelids heavier, the exhaustion of the trip finally catching up to her, pulling her towards slumber.
She needed sleep. Tomorrow was school, and dealing with that horny ape-dog Hyoudou, while exhausted, was a one-way ticket to detention—or murder, depending on how annoying he was and how little sleep she got. The mere thought of his lecherous antics made her stomach churn.
"Ugh," she muttered, pulling the covers higher, burrowing deeper into her bed. "Why, oh, why did our beloved prince, Kiba, get infected by that perv's aura of degeneracy? He's too pure for that, too noble to be tainted by such vulgarity."
Guess it was up to her and the other girls of the school to protect their precious idol, the handsome Kiba, from the grasp of ultimate cringe and perversion, a noble mission indeed.
Her thoughts faded as she drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep.
xxxx
The Next Morning
The kitchen table was filled with the dull thud of half-dead children slowly chewing their breakfast like it was prison gruel, their faces sad and drawn, eyes barely open. The vibrant energy of yesterday's vacation had completely vanished, replaced by an almost comical weariness.
Kenji watched with amusement as his children practically oozed despair. Their vacation energy had evaporated, leaving behind husks of their former selves, barely capable of lifting their spoons to their mouths.
Even Ren, the usually energetic ball of chaos, looked like a man walking to the gallows, his small shoulders slumped, his eyes glazed over with the dread of school.
Anastasia was trying to keep a straight face, a valiant effort, but the corner of her mouth twitched, a silent battle against her own amusement at their children's misery.
"Come on, kids," Kenji teased, trying to poke at the misery, a mischievous glint in his eye. He poured himself a fresh cup of coffee, the rich aroma filling the air, a stark contrast to the children's glum expressions. "Aren't you ready to go back to learning all the fun stuff? Equations! History dates! Gym class! All the exciting things you love and miss so much!" His voice dripped with mock enthusiasm.
All three kids turned their heads in unison, a slow, synchronized movement, and glared, their eyes narrowed in sleepy defiance, a silent, unified protest.
The icy silence that followed was louder than any yell, a collective groan of unspoken protest that resonated with the universal dread of Monday mornings.
Kenji grinned, a wide, satisfied smile spreading across his face. Ah yes… the joy of parenting, the subtle torture of Monday mornings, a rite of passage for every father. Was this what his own parents felt watching him as a kid, when he, too, dragged himself to school, utterly miserable? He felt a warm sense of pride swelling inside him, a quiet triumph at having achieved this quintessential "dad" moment.
Now all he needed to become a certified dad was—
"But I don't wanna go," Ren whined, rubbing his eyes with a small fist, his voice thick with sleep and misery, a perfect setup. "Dad, I'm tired."
Kenji's eyes sparkled. His lips curved into a smirk that could only mean one thing, a classic setup he had been waiting for.
"Hi, Tired," he said proudly, his voice booming with mock formality, a triumphant gleam in his eye. "I'm Dad."
The groans that followed were glorious, a symphony of adolescent despair and utter mortification. Ayaka looked ready to die from embarrassment, burying her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Aoi dropped her toast in horror, a dramatic gasp escaping her lips, her eyes wide with disbelief. Anastasia blinked, paused, a slow realization dawning on her face, and then sent him a slow, judging look that screamed Why did I marry this man, though a faint, fond smile played on her lips, betraying her hidden amusement.
Victory. Sweet, cheesy, undeniable victory.
He was officially a dad now, complete with the terrible jokes and the ability to elicit such profound reactions from his children.
After the kids left for school, shuffling like prisoners heading to their doom, their backpacks heavy with textbooks and the weight of another week, Anastasia left for work. Kenji finally flopped onto the couch in the living room. He sighed in contentment, stretching out his legs, feeling the soft cushions embrace him.
"Finally... silence." He savored the quiet, the absence of chatter and demands.
Today, no leveling. No battles. No stress. Just sweet, lazy peace, the kind he rarely got to experience anymore, in his new, chaotic life.
He glanced at the system icon still flashing with unclaimed rewards and unopened notifications, a tempting beacon of power and progress. The sheer volume of pings suggested a significant haul from his recent extermination.
"Nope. Not today," he said to himself, shaking his head, resisting the urge. "Today is for relaxation. And maybe a nap. A long, uninterrupted nap."
Coffee in hand, he settled deeper into the couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table, and turned on the TV, flipping through channels, searching for something mindless to watch, a distraction from the deeper currents of his life.
Ding.
He blinked, a flicker of annoyance, wondering what now.
"...why now?" he muttered, his voice laced with mild exasperation.
He pulled up the Multiversal Chat System, the holographic interface appearing before him, shimmering with an unexpected vibrancy.
The screen lit up—and Kenji did a spit-take, coffee flying from his mouth, splattering across the coffee table in a brown spray. His eyes widened in disbelief, his heart leaping into his throat.
Why?
Because right there blinking was erza's username, back active.
Her name, once gray, was now a vibrant, glowing red. A wave of relief washed over him, followed by a surge of pure elation. She was back. She was alive.
More messages started flooding in, a chaotic stream of disbelief and joy from the other chat members, mirroring his own reaction.
[Eternal Virgin]: WAIT WHAT??!! erza?! IS THAT REALLY YOU?! I THOUGHT—
[Self-Proclaimed Human]: erza, you're alive! What happened?!
Kenji's hands flew over the interface, typing frantically, trying to calm them down even as his own heart pounded. Then he pinged erza.
The chat fell silent for a moment, waiting for her reply.
Then, finally, she replied, her message appearing clearly, a beacon of hope and reassurance.
[Red Cake Boss]: I'm sorry if I worried everyone.
Another wave of relief and chaos hit the chat, even more intense than before, a torrent of questions and exclamations.
Everyone was typing at once, questions and exclamations. Erza, relieved to be back, quickly explained everything, how the S-Class exam had gone wrong, how the dark guild Grimoire Heart attacked them, how the legendary Black Dragon, Acnologia, had appeared, seemingly wiping them all out… and how she'd thought they were all dead, only to awaken seven years later—rescued by none other than Mavis Vermillion, the first Fairy Tail master, who had encased them in the protective spell, Fairy Sphere, saving them from annihilation.
Seven. Years.
Even though Kenji had known it was going to happen, it still hit him hard. He let out a sigh of pure relief from his world, a deep, shuddering breath that released days of pent-up worry. He was honestly worried that he had caused a butterfly effect and caused her to die, that his inaction had sealed her fate. But she was back. She was alive.
Kenji: erza… I'm so sorry. I knew what was going to happen. I should've warned you. Maybe I could've—
[Red Cake Boss]: No, Kenji. There's nothing to forgive. You told me about my future and even gave me a way to learn from it, but I was the one who didn't take it seriously, and I made that choice to face it like that, but I wasn't prepared for Acnologia. That's not your fault. I was stubborn… and nearly got my friends killed because of it.
He stared at her message for a long moment, a heavy weight lifted from his shoulders.
Kenji: Being cautious about your future is natural. We all are. I'm just glad you're back. Truly.
After that, the chat stayed active for a while, a joyous reunion of interdimensional friends. They laughed. They shared stories, catching up on each other's lives, the mundane and the fantastical.
Vandalieu updated them about his awkward domestic situation: a girl named Elizabeth and her mother, who somehow thought he was her missing husband—and now Van was awkwardly playing house, while also ruling his undead kingdom and going to adventurer school, a bizarre but endearing life.
Sora was still working on building the Werebeast Coalition and helping Imanity reclaim their territories on Disboard,
When they asked Kenji, he kept it vague, omitting the more violent details of his Kyoto escapade. He didn't want to scare them, especially Sora, who was the normal guy in their group.
Kenji: Some yokai came after me and my family. They were… dealt with. We're all safe now. No need to worry. Just a minor skirmish.
Sora expressed some worry, ever the cautious one, sensing the underlying tension in Kenji's vague words, but Van didn't seem concerned, perhaps used to such brutal realities in his own world, where "dealt with" often meant utter annihilation.
Still, Kenji knew better than to tell Sora he'd casually slaughtered a yokai gang and annihilated half a mountain range with a mini-black hole.
Eventually, erza said goodbye and left to rejoin her guild, eager to reconnect with her family after seven long years of absence. The rest followed soon after, the chat slowly emptying, leaving Kenji once again in the quiet of his living room.
Kenji closed the chat and leaned back, a deep sigh escaping him, a mix of relief and renewed purpose.
He tried to relax.
Tried to enjoy the peace, the quiet of his home, the lingering warmth of his coffee.
But…
He couldn't sit still anymore.
erza's return had shaken something in him,
"Okay, okay. Just a peek at the rewards." He knew he couldn't resist. The lure of reward, of progress, was too strong.
Because really, how could anyone just sit on a mountain of loot and not look? It was against his very nature as a Gamer, a fundamental impulse he couldn't deny.
Time to see what he'd gained from murdering a whole damn yokai army. It was time to claim his spoils.
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