Al finally arrived at Indra's home, located on the outskirts of the city.
It was larger than a typical house, yet still felt humble. Parked in the front yard were a family car and a large fish truck, filled with the scent of the sea.
The compound was spacious. A mango tree, heavy with fruit, towered over a small chicken coop beside the kitchen.
Al walked up to the porch and knocked on the door.
Knock knock knock.
Shortly after, the door opened. A middle-aged woman wearing a floral house dress greeted him with a warm smile.
"Oh, Al! You came too…"
Al flashed his signature half-mischievous grin.
"Hello, Auntie… You're looking younger every day. Soon people will mistake you for Indra's sister."
The woman giggled softly and patted his shoulder like a fan meeting an idol.
"Oh, you sure know how to flatter. Come in, dear… I'll make you breakfast—you probably haven't eaten yet."
"Ah, Auntie, sorry to trouble you, hehe."
Al stepped inside. The house smelled of home-cooked food and polished wood—warm and inviting.
Inside, Indra sat in his room, surrounded by piles of books and an open laptop displaying modern fish-farming designs—classic imagery for a Fisheries major.
"Oh, you're already here?" Indra greeted, trying to speak.
But…
Al was fast asleep on Indra's folding mattress, hoodie still covering his head, backpack half-open.
Indra sighed. A fond smile spread across his clean, round face.
"Some things never change, this kid…"
---
Flashback — Orphanage, 12 Years Ago
Five-year-old Al sat in the corner of the playroom, hugging a wooden doll with a tiny club. His tiny face was incredibly cute—like a talking toy.
So adorable that the caretakers and the house mothers fought over him.
"Al, come here and get a hug from Sister~"
"Al, come nap with Mother~"
Meanwhile…
Other boys began to bristle.
"Ew, what a showoff."
"Let's prank him! Let's shake his bed!"
This all made Al miss sleep—often used as a plaything by the sisters and teased by other boys.
Every time Al fell asleep, someone shook his bed. His toys disappeared. Sometimes his face was smudged with charcoal. But Al never cried. He just stayed quiet… then drifted to sleep in the corner, sitting.
Indra, then seven years old, watched from afar.
He knew what it felt like to be bullied, but he'd never had a face as sweet as Al's.
Yet… seeing Al sleep with such exhaustion, clutching his wooden doll against the wall, Indra felt pity.
From that day…
He became Al's "sleep guard."
Every time Al slept, Indra would stand watch—hands folded, eyes sharp—deterring the others.
"Mess with him again and I'll toss you in the pond!"
Even though Al was small, he sensed it. Sometimes just before drifting off, he'd glance at Indra and smile softly. Without a word. Just sleep.
---
Back to the Present
Indra looked at Al—peacefully asleep with his innocent face and tousled hair.
"I don't get it… you sleep so freely here, even after becoming a rich kid with a fancy room and plush bed…"
He sighed.
"Maybe… this kid just doesn't fit into super-rich family life yet."
Indra returned to his work. But before resuming typing, he stood, walked to the window, and quietly drew the curtains.
Guarding someone's quiet sleep…
Just like old times.
---
One hour later, a gentle knock came at Indra's door. His mother entered carrying a tray with hot tea and a plate of homemade cakes—fragrant and tempting.
"This is for Al. Poor child. He probably still hasn't adjusted to his family lifestyle…"
Indra glanced lazily over.
"He's still asleep, Ma. Like a corpse. Just leave the cake on the table…"
His mother nodded and went to set the tray down—when suddenly…
A pale hand shot out from beneath the blankets.
Immediately grabbing a cake without hesitation.
GRAB—
Indra's mother nearly dropped her teacup. Indra jumped in surprise.
"Wow! Are you a real zombie? Just woke up from the dead—and all for cake?!"
Al sat up, half-lazy. His eyes still sleepy, but his hands busy shoving cake into his mouth.
"How did I fall asleep…" he murmured softly.
He looked at Indra's mother, then narrowed his eyes as if forming the most dramatic line of his life.
"…when an angel like you brought me this delicious cake?"
Indra's mother giggled.
"Oh, you—you sure are sweet-talkin'."
Indra glared in irritation.
"Alright, Ma. Just let him be. He might make you fall in love with his charm next."
His mother left the room in laughter, closing the door softly behind her. Only Indra and Al remained inside—one boiling with anger, the other with cheeks full of cake.
Indra exhaled and looked at Al seriously.
"I don't understand. You come here always tired. Now you're a rich kid—why act like a refugee? Didn't your house give you a private room?"
Al didn't reply. He calmly ate his cake, then took a sip of tea like a refined noble—pinky finger raised.
"Oh my… when your tongue tastes food, do all your other senses just stop working?" mumbled Indra before sighing, "…How do the rest of your senses even work with your tongue hogging everything?"
Al paused, setting down his tea. Then looked at Indra with a pseudo-philosophical expression.
"Indra…"
"Hm?"
"Do rich kids always have to wake up early?"
Indra stared in confusion.
"What kind of question is that... But yes, I guess so. Rich kids probably have lots of rules."
Al stared more seriously now, no grin. His voice low but cutting.
"How do you know? Are you a rich kid?"
Silence.
Instantly, the room grew cold. Indra stared at Al in shock—in disbelief that this lazy kid could wound human pride with a single sentence.
The next moment—
BRUK!
A pillow soared and struck Al's face.
"Feel that! You breathing-maligned brat!!!"
"Lying insult!! Waaahhh!"
"Yeah, I'm just a fisherman's kid. Done!!"
Al giggled as he parried the pillow attack.
"If you're a fisherman's kid, why do you live in a room? Go to sea already."
"Hey!!"
"This is my house—command me to get lost, buddy."
Chaos ensued.
---
After finishing his meal, Al stared sharply at Indra. As if he wanted to say something. But in the end, he said nothing.
Guess it's better if I don't tell him. What if he thinks I'm barbaric? Haah… he thought.
Through the reflection of a small mirror, Indra accidentally caught sight of a rather unpleasant expression on the face of the young man he'd always treated like a little brother.
Indra's oversensitivity toward Al's moods made him assume that Al was troubled or feeling down—even though Al wasn't really the sentimental type.
Still, Indra wasn't wrong. Something was weighing on Al's mind.
"Hm? You wanna say something?" Indra asked, turning to face him.
Al tilted his head up, meeting Indra's eyes.
The older man looked like he was trying to be considerate.
Al blinked rapidly, and somehow, that tiny motion made his hesitation fade.
Maybe… I should talk about it.
But then again… What should I even say?
His lips parted slightly, but the words refused to come out.
Indra, seeing Al struggle like that, assumed it must be something serious. So he decided to give a little nudge.
"Is there a problem with your new family?—Ah, I mean your real family. Are you doing okay over there?" he asked, trying to guess the cause.
Al was a little startled—he didn't expect Indra to hit the mark so easily. But that was just who Indra had always been—someone who tried to act like an older brother.
Al nodded.
"You knew?" he asked casually.
Yet somehow, to Indra, that simple question sounded like a line soaked in sorrow.
Indra smiled warmly.
"I figured as much. Do you want to talk about it?" he said in his usual calm tone.
Al stayed silent for a moment, sorting through his thoughts, trying to decide what he could and couldn't tell.
I guess I should stick to the safe parts. The parts where I caused chaos, made a mess, traumatized my father, or when I beat up a servant—yeah, better skip those. Haha. What would Indra think if he heard all that? he mused.
Then he finally spoke,
"It's not that I don't want to tell you… it's just, I don't even know how to explain it in a way you'd understand, hehe." he said, sounding a little more relaxed.
"What's with that? Haa… Fine, never mind. If you're not ready to talk, it's okay. You can tell me another time. Go get some sleep," Indra said teasingly, but his tone was gentle, comforting.
After thinking things through, Al let out a long breath.
"Fine, I'll talk." he said
Indra smiled and nodded,
"Good."
He didn't start a full-on story—instead, he began to speak slowly, as if asking for Indra's thoughts and perspective.
"Do you need to be something in order to be accepted in a family? Achievements, or at least acting according to their standards?" Al asked deeply.
Indra held his chin and thought. Al's question was sharp and profound.
"Hmm... are they demanding you do something great before they accept you?" Indra replied with a counter-question, trying to connect Al's question to the Virellano family, hoping Al would open up more rather than staying vague.
"Instead of answering, you're asking back." Al protested.
"Hahaha. Answer me first, then I'll give you advice. Oh right, true. Until now, there hasn't been any news about the Virellano family. They haven't made you public yet, but I guess that's normal. Elite families tend to be more cautious."
"Haah..." Al exhaled. "Technically, they've accepted me, but they don't truly acknowledge me."
"I see. So they openly refuse to acknowledge you?"
Al struggled to explain this part. If he thought about Sarah and David, there was clear rejection. But the others? It wasn't so clear.
"They're gray. It's like they're reluctant, but they still give me a chance." he said calmly.
"I think you just need to be a little more patient. After all, it hasn't even been a week since you got there." Indra replied.
Al nodded slightly, his gaze distant—like a philosopher lost in thought, as if Indra's words had just sparked a small ember of motivation within him.
Indra nodded back, feeling that Al had understood what he meant.
"Besides, we're different from them," Indra continued.
"We lived as orphans for years, raised with different values and standards of life. And now you have to live with super elites. We never cared about image or reputation back then. But now you live in that world."
Indra then fully turned his chair to face Al and continued,
"At the very least, you need to lower your expectations a little. Because now you're starting to see what they're like, how elite people live, and you shouldn't expect them to treat you the same way we used to be treated. And I hope they can at least see you within that paradigm as well."
He tossed a candy toward Al and went on,
"I also had to adapt a lot even though I was directly accepted by this family after being adopted. So I hope you can be stronger, because your challenges are even greater than mine."
Al nodded, smiling casually as he unwrapped the candy and popped it into his mouth.
"Yeah, you're right. I've only been there a few days, after all. And actually, they do see me through a different paradigm."
"Well, that's good to hear. At least they see you as a former orphan," Indra said with relief.
"That's not what I mean." Al replied with as small groan. "They see me more as a wild kid, a street kid."
Indra was momentarily taken aback.
"Haha, I guess elites see anything non-elite as wild."
Al only nodded, closing his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest with a faint scowl.
"Yeha. Exactly."
"But..." Indra spoke again. "Have you thought about just giving up and leaving that place? I'm not pushing you out, they are still your blood family. I just... don't want your life to worsen because you're forcing yourself into a world you're not ready for."
Indra sounded sympathetic toward Al, discomfort also rising within him even though he had only heard a little about Al's struggles.
Al looked at Indra.
"I've thought about that hundreds of times in just a few days. But like you said, I just need to be patient—it's only the beginning. Haha. Even though they're so, so, so, so damn annoying… Ughhh." he grumbled, his teeth grinding slightly.
Indra chuckled at Al's annoyed expression.
"Hahaha, that's good. But if in the end you leave, you know where you can return—to the orphanage, or here. Because we'd be more than happy to have you." Indra said warmly.
Al looked at him again, a faint amused smile curling at the corner of his lips. He leaned back, stretching out as he murmured,
"Hoaaaam… I won't fall that easily just because of a few small problems. Though honestly… if I didn't have a mission there, I'd rather just stay at the orphanage."
"Mission?" Indra asked, confused.
"To return to being a normal human." Al replied as he turned over and closed his eyes, trying to sleep again.
Indra frowned at those words.
"What do you mean, a normal human huh?! Don't tell me you're not normal already?" Indra asked irritably, as if Al was teasing him.
Al didn't answer, seeming to have fallen asleep.
"Damn... you fall asleep so quickly. Hufftt... anyway, you're right, you've never been normal." Indra grumbled as he turned his chair back toward his laptop.
Al lifted his head slightly.
"I don't mind being called not normal. But I won't accept being called not normal by someone even less normal than me."
Indra turned around sharply, his gaze intense.
"What did you say?! Are you calling me not normal? Less normal than you? Huh?!" he snapped.
"You didn't mishear. You're more not normal. I remember when we were at the orphanage, you secretly hid Mother Corla's underwear. Is that what you call normal, hahaha." Al shot back, raising his voice slightly, as if satisfied with his retort.
Hearing that, Indra was utterly shocked. How could Al bring that up so loudly? Indra then jumped, hugging and covering Al's mouth.
"What are you saying? Don't slander me!" Indra snapped angrily, his eyes blazing.
Al resisted and continued his taunt.
"Hahaha, do you really like Mother Corla's underwear that much? You're not just not normal, you're a total pervert. Haha!" Al spoke more enthusiastically.
"Stop, don't bring that up again. That was a misunderstanding." Indra argued.
"Haha, misunderstanding my ass."
"Arrrggghhh!"
Indra tried to hold Al's mouth shut to stop him from throwing more cruel teasing and accusations. And so, childish chaos erupted between the two of them.
Meanwhile, outside the room, Indra's mother—who was cooking—heard the commotion. She only chuckled softly, her expression full of warmth.
"You two really get along." She murmured happily.
---
The clock struck 10:00 a.m.
Al stepped out of Indra's home wearing the sweetest grin he could manage. His hair still messy, but his smile had the charm of a tea-drink commercial star.
"Thanks for the cake, Auntie. Please look after Indra… And tell him to study hard and sleep less."
Indra's mother blushed in amusement.
"Yes, yes… stay safe, Al…"
From inside the house a shout rang out:
"You lazy sleeper!!!"
"Get out—!!"
Indra burst through the door and kicked toward Al—but it was too late.
FWOOSH—
Al had vanished around the corner. Only dust and a breeze remained of the scene.
"Aaaaarrrgghhh!!"
---