The house Tony chose was a two-story duplex villa, complete with a small garden and a garage. To Clara, none of that really mattered.
What mattered most was the location.
The villa sat within one of Brooklyn's top school districts, close to both middle and high schools.
The house was equipped with underfloor heating. Not long after stepping inside, warmth spread through the rooms, making it comfortable even after taking off thick winter coats.
The previous owners had emigrated to Canada due to work. All household appliances and daily necessities were still there. To prevent dust buildup during vacancy, everything had been carefully covered with khaki cloths. Ironically, the house had been listed for only a couple of days before being snapped up.
Pepper explained that the property was officially under Happy's name. Since Happy was now Clara's legal guardian, it made everything much more convenient.
"Y-yeah, it's a gift from my boss," Happy scratched his head awkwardly. "He likes giving things away—armor, houses—especially when he feels guilty for doing something wrong…"
"Happy," Pepper cut in sharply.
Some things were not appropriate to say in front of a child.
"Alright, let's go eat," Pepper said smoothly. "I saw several specialty restaurants near the intersection earlier. What do you feel like, Clara? Brazilian? Indian? Or Mexican?"
"Indian," Clara answered without hesitation.
At the restaurant, Pepper ordered several North Indian–style dishes. Perhaps adjusted to suit local tastes, the food was good—but it didn't quite match the authentic flavors.
After dinner, Pepper took Clara to a nearby supermarket to buy daily necessities. If Clara hadn't shaken her head and refused with every ounce of determination she had, Pepper would have gone as far as hiring a full-time live-in nanny for her.
After seeing Pepper and Happy off, Clara opened all the windows to let the house air out, filling it with the scent of sunlight. Although the previous owner hadn't been gone long, there was still a thin layer of dust in uncovered areas that needed cleaning.
When everything was done, Clara leaned sideways into the sofa and let herself sink into its soft cushions.
She closed her eyes.
A cool breeze brushed against her cheeks. Outside, fragmented sounds drifted in from the world beyond the windows, as if coming from another reality. That familiar feeling—quiet, lonely, and still—returned.
At the corner of her closed eyes, a faint shimmer appeared.
—
By mid-January, the middle school near Clara's villa—one that operated on an early-semester system—began accepting new students.
Happy parked the car in the garage. Since the school was nearby, they walked there together.
"How should I address you, Mr. Hogan?" Clara asked.
This was only her second time meeting Happy. Aside from knowing he was Tony's driver and close friend—as introduced by Pepper—she knew nothing else.
"Just call me Happy," he said cheerfully. "That's what my friends call me… your mom called me that too."
"You knew my mom?"
"Of course. I was already Tony's bodyguard when he was with Laura. Back then, Tony was like a fragile little princess—and I was a battle-hardened boxer!"
Happy bounced on his feet and struck a boxer's pose, making huh, huh sounds. Paired with his slightly pudgy figure, it looked more funny than intimidating.
"Clara," he said hesitantly, "what do you think about your mom…?"
Happy had heard about Laura's episodes of domestic violence and worried about how it might have affected Clara.
"If she hadn't been addicted to drugs," Clara replied calmly, "she would have been a perfect mother."
It was an objective answer based on memory. Laura loved Tony Stark just as deeply as she loved Clara.
"That damn bastard…" Happy muttered through clenched teeth.
"What did you say?"
"Nothing! Look—we're here. Wow… there are a lot of people."
No matter the world or the country, parents were always the same—willing to do anything to get their children into a good school.
Under the sun, Happy stood in line, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
Tony had originally planned to handle Clara's school enrollment online in one go. But Happy insisted on experiencing what it felt like to be a child's guardian.
Standing in the shade, Clara watched Happy in the queue and felt her eyes sting.
In another life, Father Kruser had once done the same—standing in endless lines, calling in favors, pulling strings—day and night—just to get his daughter into a good school…
At noon, Clara slung her new schoolbooks over her shoulders and headed home with Happy.
With a small backpack on her back, she felt momentarily transported to the age when she used to hop like a bunny on her way to school.
She was still that age now.
But the urge to skip and jump was gone.
"Thank you, Happy," Clara said softly. "Lunch is on me today. I'll cook food."
She wasn't exaggerating.
In the past, her stomach had been weak. Bad food meant instant trouble, so she rarely ate street snacks or fast food. To satisfy cravings, she had forced herself to learn how to cook—and learned well.
At the supermarket, Clara picked out ingredients suitable for simple home-style dishes, planning to keep things light.
When they got home, she realized they were out of salt and asked Happy to make another quick trip to the store.
—
"Robbery! Stop him—someone stop him!"
A woman in red high heels screamed sharply. A man wearing a baseball cap sprinted ahead, clutching a red women's wallet.
Happy, fearless as ever, stepped into the middle of the road and spread his arms, ready to stop the robber.
Seeing someone block his path, the man didn't slow down at all. Instead, he pulled a knife from his pocket.
In the blink of an eye—
A red-and-gold armored figure descended from the sky.
One blast from a repulsor cannon, and the man convulsed violently as electricity surged through his body.
"You're pretty brave, Happy," Tony's familiar, teasing voice echoed from inside the Iron Man armor. "Trying to set an example for your daughter now that you're a dad?"
"I'm not her dad," Happy snorted. "More like an uncle. Guys like this? I could take on a few more. Why are you here? Navigation error?"
"This isn't your house. I go wherever I want." Tony pointed at the bag in Happy's hand. "Planning a career change? Becoming a chef?"
"Clara's treating me to food. She's cooking it herself. Want to join us, Tony?"
"I'm not going," Tony scoffed. "A thirteen-year-old cooking food? I'll end up with a stomachache."
His mind flashed back to the half-burnt scrambled eggs he'd made on a plane after three hours of effort—the final destination had been the trash can.
"That's exactly why you should come!" Happy said seriously. "Brothers face hardship together! She bought so many ingredients—I can't finish them alone. If we don't eat, won't it hurt her feelings?"
"So you're not inviting me to eat," Tony said incredulously. "You're dragging me down with you? Happy, I misjudged our friendship!"
"You're the one who showed up! I didn't call you!" Happy grabbed Tony and started dragging him along. "Clara can cook—how bad could it be? Just go through the motions with me!"
"Let go of me! I can walk on my own! I don't like being dragged by another man!"
Despite his protests—
Tony Stark was still half-pulled, half-willingly dragged along.
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T/N:
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