"Since when did your massage feel this comfortable?" his mother said, glancing at Theodore who was still busy working on her shoulders. The exhaustion from a full day of work slowly faded away.
"Dinner's ready!" Allita shouted from the kitchen, carrying two plates in her hands. Theodore immediately stopped massaging his mother and went to help his sister set the table. Tonight, their mother had brought home some vegetables for dinner, so Allita cooked them right away.
"You're getting really good at cooking!" their mother praised, making Allita smile happily.
"Oh right, Allita, could you get the cake inside my bag?" she asked gently. Allita quickly obeyed and took out a cake box from the bag. When she opened it on the table, she saw a birthday cake inside.
"A birthday cake?" Allita asked in confusion, staring at her mother.
"That's right. Even though it's a little late… You both probably remember, a few months ago someone turned seventeen, and in a few months, our dear Allita will turn fourteen. I might only be able to give you one birthday cake for both of you today," their mother said with a sad smile. "But… would you mind celebrating a late and an early birthday together?" she asked softly.
"It's fine, Mom. But you didn't have to buy a cake. We still need to pay the house bills," Allita said worriedly, afraid the cake had cost too much.
"Mom, I think I'm too old for this kind of thing. Let Allita have it. I don't mind celebrating early," Theodore replied, looking at his mother with sympathy.
"You sound like you've lived for ages," his mother teased, chuckling lightly. "You're both such good kids, so I wanted to give you this cake. Now come on, Allita, light the candle and make a wish!" she said with warmth in her voice.
Theodore said nothing—he never thought he'd experience such a life. Allita obediently lit the candle, closed her eyes to make a wish, and then blew it out together with Theodore. Their mother clapped happily, then told them to cut the cake and eat together. That night, their meal was better than usual, but instead of feeling joyful, Theodore felt uneasy.
After dinner, Allita busied herself cleaning the kitchen, their mother started sewing worn-out clothes to make them usable again, while Theodore pretended to read a dull textbook.
"Mom, I'm going out for a bit," Theodore said—not really asking permission, but simply informing her.
He left before his mother could even reply. The cold night wind brushed against him as he ran through narrow alleys between houses.
"I must regain my power… or I'll live like this forever," Theodore muttered impatiently.
He truly had a kind, loving family now—so different from his past life, where servants cared for him and he rarely saw his parents. They had given him everything he wanted, but he had never truly felt their love.
After running for quite a while, Theodore stopped. He looked around—no one was in sight. Just as he wanted. He inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly.
He stepped one foot forward, his hands moving gracefully in sync with his breathing. His body flowed through several martial-like movements before dropping down to perform push-ups, his sweat dripping to the ground.
Once exhausted, he sat cross-legged on the damp grass. The cool night wind brushed gently against his skin. His hands slowly moved toward his abdomen, and then his body began to lift slightly off the ground. A faint blue light surrounded him.
This time, Theodore could feel power entering his body—his strength was slowly returning. All he needed now was to train his weak body to contain that power, unlocking it bit by bit until he regained his full strength. Without realizing it, three hours had passed, and his body shivered from the cold as he finished.
Theodore headed home, only to be greeted by Allita's fierce glare when he arrived. He immediately wondered why she looked so angry. His mother was asleep at the table, a blanket draped over her back to keep her warm.
"What time do you call this? Why are you coming home so late? And you smell like sweat!" Allita scolded, glaring at Theodore, who froze in confusion.
"I was just doing a marathon. I'll do it again tomorrow, so stop glaring at me like that. And keep your voice down—you'll wake Mom!" Theodore warned, completely unapologetic for making them worry.
Allita let out a sigh, then pinched his arm hard, making him yelp. "Mom waited for you until she fell asleep!" she snapped.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry," Theodore said, giving in, though his tone lacked any real remorse.
He then approached his sleeping mother and gently lifted her in his arms. Allita's eyes widened—her brother didn't seem to struggle at all while carrying their mother. Her face filled with questions. Did her brother somehow gain strength from running?
After laying their mother carefully on the bed and covering her with a blanket, Theodore stepped out of the room, catching Allita's shocked expression. "What?" he asked.
"It's just… since when could you carry Mom so easily?" she asked, puzzled. Without warning, she lifted Theodore's shirt to reveal faint abs forming on his stomach.
"Since when—?" she almost shouted before remembering their mother was asleep. Theodore quickly pushed her hand away and pulled his shirt down.
"That's rude, Allita. Anyway, just wait and see what I'll become," he said, walking past her into his room. Allita stood frozen, still astonished.
Inside his room, Theodore didn't go straight to bed. He took off his sweat-soaked clothes and sat cross-legged, focusing on tracing the remnants of his lost power and figuring out how to reclaim it. He continued until dawn, finally collapsing into sleep, only to be awakened by Allita at sunrise. Their mother had already gone to work as usual.
"Mom's already gone, huh," Theodore mumbled, yawning as he stepped out of his room.
"That's because you overslept," Allita said, sitting neatly at the table with breakfast ready.
Theodore sat down, drank a glass of water, and ate a plate of rice with a fried egg—that was his breakfast. Afterward, he and Allita walked together to school before parting ways at their respective gates.
School was as dull as ever. The same three boys still bullied him, but Theodore remained calm, accepting every blow. His freshly healed body began to bruise again.
Shiny continued trying to get close to him, though Theodore kept ignoring her. Only Wisley panicked each time—watching Theodore silently endure the bullying, his piercing gaze unfazed, and seeing how he dismissed Shiny's attempts to talk to him.
"Theo! What's wrong with you? You've been acting weird since yesterday!" Wisley exclaimed once again.
"I told you already, you'll just have to get used to it," Theodore replied, his usual response whenever Wisley questioned his behavior.
After school, Theodore didn't rest. He went running for hours, then trained his power again in a quiet place. No one knew what he was doing, until one week later—he finally looked at his hand with confidence, where a sharp shard of ice floated above his palm.
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