The Portal: Life with the Vampire and Werewolf Queens
Chapter 7: Teaching Household Chores and Joyful Encounters
Upon returning to Miya's house, they were immediately tasked with cleaning the entire home—from the living room filled with chairs needing a good wipe-down to the kitchen where plates and pots awaited washing. Despite their protests, Lyra and Vespera, who resembled princesses suddenly relegated to the role of servants, had no choice but to comply.
"Why do we have to clean? Your house is so big—you should hire a cleaner!" Vespera complained, her face etched with dismay as she held the broom, clearly unsure of how to wield it properly.
"Exactly! My body's still aching from working in the fields—I can't handle cleaning too!" added Lyra, who attempted to dust the wall statues, her expression reflecting fierce resistance as she watched the dust rise around her.
However, Jiro explained calmly, like a parent imparting a vital lesson, "You need to learn household chores, especially since, in recent days, you've relied on Miya to do everything for you. Remember, we're just guests here."
Jiro assisted them in cleaning, acting like a teacher on the first day of class, his face brimming with patience despite the sweat beading on his forehead due to the house's heat and his relentless efforts.
"Let me guide you properly," he said, his voice gentle yet firm. "Hold the broom tightly and move it slowly to avoid spreading the dust—watch me."
He sat Lyra and Vespera in front of a small table, fetched a cloth, and demonstrated how to wipe surfaces effectively. "Do it in circular motions, and don't forget the corners—we need patience," he added, showing the technique while wiping sweat from his brow.
Lyra was the first to try, but her vigorous motion sent dust flying into her face, irritating her. "Argh! It stings my eyes! I can't do this, Jiro!" she groaned, wiping her face with her sleeve, only worsening the mess.
Vespera, on the other hand, attempted to wipe the table but soon tossed the cloth aside in frustration, sneezing repeatedly. "This is so hard! I hate dusty work!" she exclaimed.
Undeterred, Jiro approached Lyra, gently taking her hand to guide the broom's movement. "Go slowly so the dust doesn't scatter, Lyra. Once you start, you'll finish the task," he advised. Noticing her sweating from the heat, he wiped her face and neck with a towel, his touch tender and caring.
Minutes passed, and Jiro continued demonstrating—showing how to wash dishes without breaking them and how to clean other kitchen utensils.
"See, if we do this right, our home will feel more comfortable," he said. Lyra gradually improved, though she often paused at the sight of dirt, while Vespera remained eager but clumsy, accidentally shattering a plate while washing it. Panicking, she cried, "Oh no! I broke a plate—Miya will scold me!"
Jiro chuckled and reassured her, "Looks like you're not cut out for dishwashing—you might use up all our plates! Don't worry, I won't tell Miya—maybe she won't notice one's missing." Sweat continued to drip from Jiro's forehead, but he didn't complain, wiping it with his sleeve as he persisted.
"If you're struggling, let me know—I'll help you until you learn," he encouraged, inwardly muttering,
"This job as their babysitter is tough—like raising younger siblings."
Amid their exhaustion, Jiro noticed the fatigue in their eyes—their hands weakened, and their clothes damp with sweat.
To lift their spirits, he paused the cleaning and suggested, "If you'd like, we can go out for a walk. It'll give you a break, and maybe you'll forget your tiredness."
"Are we leaving, Jiro?" Lyra asked, perking up.
"Yes, but only if you want to," Jiro replied with a smile.
The duo doubted whether Miya would allow it, certain they'd be scolded if the cleaning remained unfinished.
"I'm not sure—Miya might scold us if we don't finish!" Lyra said worriedly, watching Jiro plan. "Yeah, she's working us like slaves every day—I can't take it!" Vespera added, her tone laced with irritation.
Smiling, Jiro responded, "Finishing the cleaning is important, but we can continue tomorrow. For now, get ready, and I'll talk to Miya to let us go out."
Delighted, the two hurriedly dressed, their faces glowing with excitement to escape the house, while Jiro wiped his sweat before approaching Miya.
Minutes later, in the car, Jiro instructed firmly, "Don't wander too far from me, and don't argue outside. Follow my instructions, okay?" They nodded, a hint of mischief in their eyes, their hands clutching him tightly. He dropped them off at the plaza, where they began exploring the park.
With the crowd—parents with children, vendors, and walkers—Lyra and Vespera clung to Jiro's arms, fearing they'd get lost.
"So many people, Jiro! We might get separated!" Lyra whispered, her grip firm, while Vespera hid behind him.
Smiling, Jiro reassured them in a calm voice, "You don't need to be afraid. You can roam around, just stay within the park and keep me in sight." Gradually, they relaxed and observed their surroundings.
They spotted people jogging around the park and others zumba dancing in a corner, like a joyful celebration of life.
"Come on, let's join them!" Jiro urged, his voice lively as he flashed a grin.
"Jiro, can I run with them?" Lyra asked, her werewolf instincts evident.
"Sure, just don't go too far," he permitted. Ecstatic, Lyra ran with the joggers, chasing the wind, her laughter syncing with their rhythm, her hair fluttering.
Vespera joined the zumba group, her movements slowly matching the music, chuckling at her own clumsiness, her eyes sparkling with joy.
Jiro watched with a smile, his heart swelling with pride. "They're really enjoying themselves, like kids," he thought. When they called him to join, he ran with Lyra, holding her hand, his steps gentle yet supportive.
"You're so fast, Lyra!" he said, his voice full of affection as she laughed. Then he danced with Vespera, like a couple swaying to the beat.
"Move slowly, Vespera—feel the rhythm," he guided, his hand lightly on her waist for support, their eyes locking in mutual understanding.
After a few minutes, they tired and rested on a bench where Jiro sat. He wiped their sweat with his handkerchief—gently passing it over Lyra's forehead and Vespera's cheek, like a caring parent.
"Thank you, Jiro! This is so fun!" Lyra said, sipping water he offered, her smile radiant. "Yes, it's great—thank you!" Vespera added, clutching his hand tightly, reluctant to let go.
"I'm glad you're enjoying it. I know you've been tired from work, but we'll find time to go out again for a break," Jiro promised.
Soon, some kids invited them to play a ball-passing game. "Come on, let's try!" a child with a sweet smile urged. Jiro allowed it, warning,
"You can play, but stay where I can see you." He watched diligently—calling them back if they strayed, offering water when they tired. His care was like a parent overseeing their first game, filled with patience and love. As Lyra drank, he took her hand, wiping it with his handkerchief.
"Don't rush, Lyra—enjoy the day," he said tenderly, earning a smile.
He wiped Vespera's forehead, "You're already good at this ball game, Vespera—keep it up," he encouraged, inspiring her.
Hours later, Lyra noticed people roller skating, gliding like skilled dancers. "What's that, Jiro? It looks fun!" she asked, her eyes curious as she held his arm. Seeing her interest, Jiro suggested,
"Want to try? Let's rent some roller skates." Excited, Lyra agreed, gripping his hand tightly as they headed to a shop.
Struggling with the skates, Lyra's feet slipped repeatedly, causing frequent falls. "Jiro, help me! I can't do this!" she cried, clinging to his arm for balance, her face a mix of shock and laughter. Jiro, sweating profusely, guided her like a teacher.
"Hold onto me, and push your feet slowly—don't be scared," he said, holding her hand as she learned. "Don't let go, Jiro, please," she pleaded.
"I won't leave your side, no matter what," he promised. Each fall led to a hug, and Jiro laughed softly, "It's okay, Lyra—you'll get it." His hands firmly yet gently supported her waist, offering security.
Jealous of the attention Lyra received, Vespera asked for help. "I want to learn too! Teach me, Jiro!" she said proudly, taking his hand. She tried the skates but, like Lyra, struggled to stand, falling often.
Jiro caught her swiftly, saying, "Trust yourself, Vespera. Go slow—hold onto me," his voice warm as he wiped her sweat with his handkerchief. Their eyes met during each fall, a silent bond forming amid laughter.
Wanting to continue, they pressed Jiro, who, exhausted and sweat-soaked, suggested, "If you like, let's try biking instead—it might be easier." Knowing their persistence, he opted for a new activity. They agreed and walked to a bike shop, hands tightly holding his.
At the bike shop, Jiro taught them anew, sweat pouring as he demonstrated. "Grip the handlebars tightly and pedal slowly—watch me," he instructed, showing the proper stance. Mistakes abounded—Lyra stumbled on the pedals, while Vespera lost balance, releasing the handlebars. "This is hard, Jiro! It's like my life's at stake!" Lyra complained, yet her eyes shone with hope as she held his hand for support.
Gradually, they learned under Jiro's guidance, like a parent teaching a child to ride. "It's better if you believing your self—look ahead and trust your skill," he advised, steadying Lyra's bike. With each success, he patted her head, "You're doing great, Lyra—I'm proud of you," his smile warm.
For Vespera, he showed balance techniques, lifting her gently after falls, "It's fine, Vespera—you'll learn," he said tenderly, wiping her forehead with his hand.
Once proficient, they competed. "I'm faster than you, Lyra! Check my speed!" Vespera boasted, racing ahead. "Not true! I'm better!" Lyra retorted, speeding up.
Jiro laughed, "You're both skilled—maybe you can manage alone now," his voice proud as he watched their joy. Their race paused at a booth where kids gathered, drawing their curiosity.
At the booth, a vendor invited them to a game where they had to knock down figures with a ball to win stuffed toys.
"I want that—it looks fun!" Lyra exclaimed, but Jiro wasn't nearby when the vendor demanded payment. "But we have no money," she said.
A child offered a ball, "Try it, ate!" "Really, you'll give me a ball?" Lyra asked, accepting eagerly as kids cheered,
"Go, ate!" She focused, whispering to herself, "Fill each throw with patience, Lyra—stay focused."
Her first throw hit a figure, delighting the kids. "You're amazing, ate!" one shouted.
The vendor challenged, "Try knocking down the red figure—grand prize!" pointing to a huge stuffed toy. Lyra accepted, receiving another ball.
"Okay, Mr. Teddy Bear, you're mine!" she declared. But her throw missed to fall the target, leaving the figure standing. "Why didn't it fall? I hit it," she wondered.
"It must fall to win," the vendor explained.
Breathing deeply, she closed her eyes, whispering, "Breathe deep, Lyra—do it with heart," preparing again.
Her second throw hit but didn't topple it.
"What? I hit it again!" she fumed.
Enraged, she snatched a ball from the child. Unknowingly using her werewolf power, her third throw was bullet-fast, shattering the figure and piercing the wall. Shocked, the crowd gasped, but Lyra rejoiced.
"I won! Give me my prize!" she demanded. Terrified, the vendor handed over the toy, shouting,
"What kind of person are you? Leave and don't come back!"
As they left, Vespera noticed Lyra's power use. "Lyra, you used your power! Jiro forbade that—he'll be mad!" she warned.
"I wouldn't have won without it! The vendor cheated—I needed a little strength," Lyra defended.
"But it's still wrong," Vespera countered. They argued, "You could've damaged someone's property!" Vespera said.
"There's no harm—the vendor was cheating!" Lyra shot back.
Jiro intervened, asking, "Why are you fighting?" Vespera snitched about Lyra's power use.
Shocked, Jiro scolded, "That's wrong, Lyra! You know you can't use your powers!" Lyra protested,
"No one got hurt!" annoyed at Vespera's tattling. "You're just jealous Because I won," she accused.
"Not true—I could win without cheating like you!" Vespera retorted.
To prevent escalation, Jiro held Lyra's hand, explaining, "It's not about damage or injury, but the promise you broke."
He touched her head gently, "Your powers can help, but don't use them in public." He asked her to promise not to misuse them again.
Though defiant, she agreed, her eyes reflecting regret and love for Jiro. "Sorry, I didn't mean to, Jiro."
Upset by the scolding, Lyra pouted. Jiro, holding her and Vespera's hands, offered, "Let's get ice cream to cheer you up—pick your flavors," his smile showing affection.
At the shop, they chose chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry, eating joyfully like children, often touching Jiro's hands in gratitude.
That afternoon, they encountered beggars on the street, their clothes filthy, faces sad. Jiro explained softly, "Not everyone has a home—some need help, and this is our chance to be kind."
They approached, and Lyra offered food, "Here, eat well," her voice caring as Jiro guided her hand. He taught, "Be generous to those in need—you'll be blessed."
Holding Vespera's hand, he said, "See, Vespera—helping brings joy, doesn't it, seeing their smiles?"
They learned the value of giving, their eyes filled with new understanding. Jiro wiped Lyra's sweaty forehead,
"You did great, Lyra—I'm proud," his voice tender. Vespera clung to his arm, asking,
"Wasn't your house destroyed, Jiro? Good thing we're not sleeping on the street."
Jiro joked, "True, so don't fight or upset Miya, or we'll all sleep outside!"
That night, they returned home. Miya greeted them at the door, "Did you enjoy your outing?"
"Miya, were you waiting for us?" Jiro teased.
"Yes, we went to the park," Lyra replied.
They eagerly shared their adventures—running, zumba, and roller skating.
"We had fun, Miya! Thanks to Jiro!" Lyra beamed.
But Miya added, "I'm glad, but you must work tomorrow to cover today's expenses."
Lyra groaned, "Work again? Please, no more chopping wood or planting in mud!"
Vespera pleaded, "Please, Miya, give us a rest day." Smiling,
Miya said, "I won't make you do that—how about slaughtering pigs or cleaning horse dung instead?" Clutching their heads, they screamed,
"No! No way!" and "Not that, please, anything but that!" before rushing to their room.
Jiro and Miya laughed at their reaction. The night ended peacefully, with Jiro and Miya delighted by the duo's growth and joy, their hearts filled with new hope.
Jiro smiled, reflecting on their effort, his sweat a testament to his dedication, his love guiding their progress.