The atmosphere inside the cabin was heavy with tradition. Kouta and his mother sat across from each other with a solemnity that hadn't existed before.
"Kouta Ackerman," Shia began, her voice unusually stern, devoid of its usual softness. This was the most serious moment in their family's history. "I ask you now: are you willing to take responsibility for this family? Will you become its master, loving and protecting every member within it?"
"I do," Kouta replied, staring directly into Shia's eyes without hesitation.
As he looked at his beautiful mother, a flicker of raw passion ignited in his golden pupils. The psychological shift was total. He no longer looked at her simply as a mother; he looked at her as a woman—and as his subject.
Shia felt a tremor run through her soul. She recognized that look. It was the same intense, hungry gaze her husband used to give her before they were married. She felt a sudden urge to flee, but the ritual bound her to the spot. She endured his fiery eyes, feeling as though her skin was beginning to burn.
"Are you willing to fulfill every obligation and responsibility?" Shia asked, her voice wavering.
"Of course," Kouta said, leaning forward slightly. "But in return, I expect to enjoy all of my rights."
Shia's heart hammered against her ribs. She knew exactly what he meant. He wasn't just obsessed with Mikasa; he had claimed her as well. The realization terrified her, yet a forbidden spark of shyness and excitement flickered deep within her heart. Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and she averted her gaze, unable to meet his eyes any longer.
"Then... you are the Head of our Household," she whispered.
"It is my pleasure," Kouta smiled, the victory tasting sweet.
He didn't make a move yet. He knew his body was still developing, and he didn't want to rush a thing. He would wait until he reached his peak. For now, he simply enjoyed the way Shia trembled in his presence—the delicious mix of fear and devotion she showed him was more entertaining than anything else.
Mikasa, however, was no fool. She sensed the shift immediately. She realized that her mother had suddenly become her greatest rival. Looking at Shia's mature, developed figure in that purple kimono, Mikasa felt a sharp pang of unease. Fortunately, Kouta still spent his days with her, which was her only consolation.
Every day, Kouta followed a precise routine: exercise his enhanced strength, take Mikasa to the town to find Eren and Armin, absorb the faith from the walls, and have lunch at the Yeager household. Then, he would return home to "strengthen" his mother, teasing her until she was breathless and flustered.
He continued to pour faith power into Shia as well. In a world of Titans and desperate men, he wouldn't leave her defenseless. By now, Shia's physical fitness was several times that of an ordinary person.
If I can just unlock 'that' power, Kouta thought, we will be invincible. But "that" power required an astronomical amount of faith—more than his current body could handle.
...
While Kouta was busy at home, Carla Yeager was experiencing a transformation of her own. She felt more energetic, more alive than she had in years.
Her life had been ordinary and, at times, lonely. Her husband, Grisha, was away for days at a time practicing medicine, and Eren was always out playing. But everything had changed when Eren brought home that handsome, golden-eyed boy.
Kouta was charming. He called her "Sister," ignoring the age gap entirely, which made her feel youthful and desired. He came to her home every day, filling the silence of her life with his warm presence.
After Eren left to play one morning, Carla found herself standing before the mirror, carefully applying makeup. Why am I doing this? she wondered. Am I really trying to look beautiful for a child?
Her heart fluttered like a trapped bird. She felt the same rush she had felt when she first met Grisha.
"Carla, how can you think such things? He's Eren's friend... he's just a boy," she told herself. "But I don't hate this feeling. I've been lonely for so long. He calls me sister... so it's okay for a sister to care for her brother, right?"
She was making excuses, unaware that this was the first step toward her downfall.
When the children arrived later that day, Eren shouted, "Mom, we're back! Big brother is here too!"
Carla stepped out to greet them, and all three boys froze. She had dressed in her finest clothes, her hair pinned up elegantly, her figure accentuated in all the right places. She looked radiant.
"Mom... you look amazing today!" Eren stuttered. He hadn't seen his mother dress up like this in years.
Carla blushed and looked past her son, her eyes searching Kouta's face for a reaction.
Kouta let his gaze roam over her slowly, a smirk playing on his lips. "Sister Carla, Eren is right. You are truly beautiful today."
Carla felt as if she had swallowed honey. "Really? You think so?" she asked, her voice laced with a girlish anxiety she hadn't felt in a decade.
"Of course," Kouta said, his voice dropping an octave. "It makes my heart flutter."
The words made Carla's heart dance wildly. Mikasa, standing nearby, felt her blood boil. She saw the way Carla was looking at her brother—the way she moved, the way she had dressed up just for him.
This vixen... Mikasa thought, her eyes narrowing with hostility. She already had to compete with her mother at home; now she had to deal with this "Auntie" as well. I won't let you take him. Onii-chan belongs to me!
They sat down for lunch, the atmosphere thick with tension. Kouta sat across from Carla, his eyes occasionally meeting hers. He saw the way she enjoyed the attention, the way she leaned into his "warm" aura.
Suddenly, Kouta reached out under the table.
"Um—!"
Carla let out a sharp gasp, her eyes snapping wide in total disbelief. She looked at Kouta, but he was calmly eating his soup, a
strange, knowing smile on his face.