Time flew by in the blink of an eye, and two years had passed since I first met the Nishimiya family.
I was about to turn three.
During this time, I had tried all kinds of methods to summon the system, but none had worked.
Countless small things had happened around us, but one thing remained constant: the strange, warm chaos of this family. There was Dad—carefree and unreliable—Mom—affectionate and occasionally unhinged—and me, who remained mostly silent through it all.
I became known in the neighborhood as that kid. The quiet one. The obedient one. The cute one. No one ever suspected that the soul of a full-grown university student lived inside this tiny body.
As first-time parents, Shizuka Miyamura and Daiki Miyamura, adored their child—me. To them, I was a miracle, a piece of themselves they had fought hard to bring into the world. Suspicion never entered their minds.
One morning, I stood in front of the full-length mirror and stared at my reflection.
After a long moment...
"Heh. This Grandpa's still got it."
Shizuka, who was kneeling on the tatami reading a magazine, glanced up and said, "You're starting to act really full of yourself—always admiring your own reflection."
I raised my right hand, extended one chubby finger, and waved it at her without turning around.
"You're noisy, Shizuka-chin."
Her temple twitched. She didn't say a word—just quietly got up and walked toward me. I saw her approaching in the mirror but didn't move.
She scooped me into her arms, locked my legs with hers to keep me from escaping, and began rubbing my face with both hands.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Mom!" I quickly caved, my voice muffled. Any more and she'd rub the skin off my face!
She stopped eventually, gently patting my now-red cheeks before planting a big kiss on my face.
I watched as she nonchalantly returned to the table and picked up her magazine, acting like nothing had happened—like a total scumbag boyfriend pulling up his pants and ghosting you.
I could only sigh and wipe off the trail of saliva left on my cheek.
A few days of peaceful life passed.
Then, one day, Shizuka came home from the Nishimiya house with news that stirred ripples across the still water.
Our family was gathered in the living room watching a comedy show. Daiki peeled an orange while I lounged beside him on the tatami.
Shizuka suddenly paused as if remembering something. She turned to Daiki and said, a little nervously, "Hey... did you hear?"
"Hear what?" he replied cautiously, hands freezing mid-peel.
"I just got back from visiting Yaeko. She said Shouko's been diagnosed with a hearing impairment."
"Ah... what?" His reaction was strange—half surprise, half... something else. Guilt?
Shizuka took the half-peeled orange from him and started peeling it herself, talking as she worked. "Apparently the doctors confirmed it. She'll need hearing aids. Maybe even learn sign language."
She handed him half the orange and then turned to me, breaking off a small piece and gently feeding it to me.
Daiki forced a sigh. "Shouko's still so young... I hope it's a misdiagnosis."
"Yeah," Shizuka agreed softly.
From their exchange, I could tell: once again, Dad had distracted Mom, and the secret stash of cash he'd hidden behind the TV might live to see another day.
Pretending to be innocent, I chimed in, "Mom, Dad hid money behind the TV."
Shizuka turned, murder in her eyes, and grabbed Dad by the collar with lightning speed.
Several days later...
The Nishimiya family had visited four or five different hospitals.
All the results were the same: Shouko had permanent hearing loss. She would have to rely on hearing aids and learn sign language to communicate.
That night, Mr. and Mrs. Nishimiya sat in silence at the dinner table. The diagnostic reports lay scattered in front of them.
Mr. Nishimiya looked down at one of the reports, sipped cold water, and asked coldly, "Why didn't you tell me about the genetic defect in your family?"
Yaeko's eyes narrowed. She was already on edge—and now, her husband was trying to pin the blame entirely on her.
Clenching her fists, she hissed, "The doctor said it wasn't genetic. Shouko's hearing loss was caused by a viral infection—which she got from the father's side."
Mr. Nishimiya chuckled, still calm, swirling the water in his cup. "So... it's your fault after all. She had problems in your womb."
Yaeko slammed her palm down on the table. Water splashed over the reports.
"You think I wanted this to happen?!"
"So you admit it was your fault?"
"I was infected by you! This is on you!"
"Or maybe... you didn't get vaccinated."
Yaeko's voice broke. "If only I'd known...!"
"Let's talk about it tomorrow," he said, glancing at his watch. "We shouldn't disturb the neighbors."
She was too exhausted to keep fighting. After cleaning up the table, she returned to the master bedroom with Shouko in her arms.
That night, she slept with her daughter curled in her arms. Mr. Nishimiya took the guest room.
The next morning, the doorbell rang at the Nishimiya home.
Yaeko opened the door and was surprised to see a familiar face.
Her mother-in-law smiled coldly. "What? Not happy to see me?"
"N-No, of course. Please come in." Yaeko reached for her bag, but the older woman dodged her politely, keeping hold of it.
Soon, they were all seated at the dining table again. This time, Yaeko's own mother, Kei, was present too.
Mr. Nishimiya opened the conversation. "Let's continue discussing the child's... issue."
"What child's issue?" his mother asked, feigning surprise.
He briefly summarized Shouko's diagnosis while sipping from his cup.
His mother gasped in theatrical shock. "What!? Shouko's deaf?!"
"That's right," Mr. Nishimiya nodded calmly. "We were deceived."
Yaeko's face darkened. The two were putting on a bad play—and she was the villain in it.
Mr. Nishimiya went on, "We never imagined she'd give birth to a defective child."
That was the final straw.
Yaeko slammed the table. "What the hell do you mean, defective?!"
He stood up, slamming the table back. "That's what she is! She's not normal!"
"So what do you want to do then?!"
There was a long silence.
Mr. Nishimiya looked her straight in the eye.
"Let's take her to the orphanage. Quietly. Leave her at the door."
She stared at the man she had spent nearly a decade with, wondering who the hell he even was.
Her throat tightened. Her chest ached. And then, she whispered:
"...Let's get a divorce."
His mother slammed her hand on the table and snapped, "Fine! If you don't want to send her away, then you raise her on your own. Our family doesn't want a freak like that."
Yaeko picked up the water cup in front of her and threw it in Mr. Nishimiya's face.
He held his mother back as she began to shout, and wiped his face with a smirk, dismissing Yaeko entirely.
Tears spilled freely down her cheeks.