The evening sun spilled through the curtains, bathing the room in warm, sleepy light.
Bell stretched on the bed with a cheerful yawn. "Good morning, Papa! What are you doing in the kitchen? It smells sooo good!"
I glanced over my shoulder, spatula in hand, stirring the pot. "Just making dinner. You must be starving after sleeping all afternoon."
"My stomach is growling like a lion!" she said dramatically, rubbing it.
"Hah, just two more minutes."
On the surface, her antics made me chuckle—but in my mind, Aisha's words from earlier kept replaying.
.l"Bell was born from your wish. She can grant your wishes. I gave her that power."
Even hours later, the memory gnawed at me. Was any of it real? Or had I finally gone insane?
Bell sniffed the air, tilting her head. "Papa… are you making pudding?"
"No, no pudding. Just veggies tonight. And didn't you eat pudding already? Don't push your luck," I said, raising an eyebrow.
"Ohhh… right." She pouted. "Then can I help with something?"
"No need. Just sit tight. Dinner will be ready before you know it."
She hummed and skipped away happily.
We ate together as though we'd been family for years, like this was the most natural thing in the world. Bell smiled, laughed, and made silly faces at the vegetables she disliked—while I sat there, tasting food that no longer felt real on my tongue.
After dinner, I finally asked her. "Hey, Bell, do you know that lady? The one who told you to wait here… who is she?"
Bell froze for a moment, then shook her head slowly. "No… I don't know her."
My heart sank just a little. "…I see."
So no answers there. Maybe Aisha made it up. Or maybe she erased Bell's memory.
Still curious, and maybe a little reckless, I decided to test what Aisha had said.
"Bell," I said casually, forcing a smile, "give me one million."
She tilted her head, blinking innocently. "One… million?"
The way she repeated it, in that small confused voice, made me panic. "N-no! I was just kidding. Forget it."
Relief washed over me when she only tilted her head further, puzzled. I sighed and ruffled my hair. "This is ridiculous…"
Yet when Bell looked up into my face with those big, violet eyes that glittered like stars, she whispered:
"Papa, if something bothers you… tell me. I'll fix it in two minutes."
Her sincerity pierced me deeper than Aisha's cruel mockery had. My chest ached. "…It's nothing, Bell. Just… forget it, okay?"
"And It feels little weird you can call me Big brother but Papa.... " I said to her
Bell pouted again but hugged me anyway. "I'm still calling you Papa!"
I gave a weak smile and returned to my desk, forcing myself to focus on textbooks instead of on the little girl who may or may not have been born from my dying wish. "I've got to study for tomorrow."
Bell wanted to help, grabbing one of my books proudly. "I'll study too and support you!"
"…You're holding it upside down."
She went red instantly, hiding behind the book. "…S-sorry…"
I couldn't help but laugh. "…Just sleep, Bell. You're already supporting me just by being here. That's enough."
She nodded reluctantly and curled up under the blanket. "Good night, Papa."
I whispered back, "Good night."
Then, as the night dragged on, I studied until my eyelids grew heavy. Somewhere between half-solved equations and half-written notes, a careless thought slipped out of me—
"Yawn… I wish, one day, I could be the class topper too…"
Before I knew it, I was gone.
The next morning felt ordinary. The alarm buzzed. My body groaned. I dragged myself up, prepared breakfast, and brushed away the strange dreamlike haze of yesterday.
When I checked the bedroom, the bed was empty. My chest tightened. No Bell. No proof of what had happened. Had I imagined everything?
But there was no time to dwell on it, not with a test looming.
At school, I tried not to think too hard. The test papers were handed to us. My palms sweated as I scanned the first page—and froze.
Every question. Every single one. They were the exact questions I had glanced at last night, the same problems I had half-heartedly tried to memorize before collapsing. Not similar. Not close. The same.
My pen shook. No way…
Could it be? Could Aisha have been telling the truth? Was Bell really…?
I swallowed hard and forced myself to breathe. No, it has to be a coincidence.
But by the time I put down my pen, I knew. This wasn't normal. This was impossible.
After lunch, when the teacher read the results aloud, disbelief nearly floored me.
"…And our highest scorer this time, across all sections—White. A perfect 100."
The room exploded. My classmates turned in their seats, whispering, staring. Some glared. Others looked amused. But all I could do was sit there dumbly, clutching the test paper like it was someone else's.
Perfect marks. Me.
I wasn't smart. I wasn't hardworking. And yet, here it was, my wish granted.
My stomach twisted. It's real…
After class, Zen patted my back so hard that my bones rattled. "No freaking way, man! The loner beat Shu?! Bro, you're a legend!" He laughed like a hyena and slapped me again.
I managed a weak chuckle in return, my mind still drowning.
But as I was about to leave, she appeared.
Shu. The untouchable class topper. The perfect student.
She stood in front of my desk, her long black hair brushing her shoulders, her sharp eyes narrowing as they fixed on me.
"Meet me on the roof."
Just that. Cold and clear. And then she turned without another word.
I blinked, stunned. Shu had never spoken to me before. Not once. And now, out of nowhere—this.
My hands tightened on my bag as a familiar shiver crawled down my spine.
What does she want from me?