That morning, the little house by the fields was bustling again. But it wasn't the sound of laughter. Nor the clatter of grandmother stirring pots, or the trickle of hot water in the stove.
All that could be heard was chaos.
Braak!
"Ouch!"
A book fell from the table. Then hurried footsteps echoed across the wooden floor, filling the entire room.
Mathien, curled up on a soft cushion in the corner of the room, let out a sharp sigh. His thick tail whipped the air in annoyance. His eyes—half-closed just moments ago—now widened in fury.
"What… kind of morning is this?" he muttered softly.
In the kitchen, Hana ran back and forth. Her socks weren't properly on. Her hair was messy, and the bottom of her white uniform still tucked into her skirt. Her lips moved silently, reciting chemical formulas, while her hands fumbled through her hair.
"Where's the tie?! I forgot where I put the tie—Oh, God!"
She grabbed a worn tie from behind a chair and tried to knot it, but the knot was all wrong. She tugged, and it snagged. She tugged again, and it only got worse.
"Ughh!!" Hana nearly cried.
Mathien just watched from afar, utterly unimpressed.
By the door, her school shoes waited patiently. But Hana didn't touch them. Instead, she stared at a small potted plant that hadn't been watered.
"Floooower—! Sorry! You'll all wilt!" she yelled in panic.
She dashed to fetch a small watering can from the kitchen and poured water on the line of pots by the window—spilling some onto the floor.
Then she realized—breakfast.
"Noooodles!!" Hana ran back to the kitchen, turning on the water, but it wasn't hot yet. The clock on the wall showed she was extremely, extremely late.
The next moment, she sank to the floor.
Silent.
She just froze.
Her eyes fixed on the empty space—one wooden chair at the end of the table still vacant. No grandmother there. No morning advice. No hand to fix her tie, no voice telling her there was still time.
And in that instant, her body could no longer hold it all in.
Hana wiped her tears quickly, tried to stand, then put on her shoes with trembling hands.
Meanwhile, from inside the room, Mathien sat silently. His eyes were no longer annoyed. He just stared at Hana's fragile back—back forced to be strong while the world seemed too heavy for one child alone.
"Hana…" he whispered in his heart.
But he remained still. He knew that if Hana needed a shoulder to lean on, he would come himself. And when that moment came, he would be the only one who would never leave.
Mathien rose.
He walked slowly to the window, watching Hana finally step outside with her uniform still messy and her tie crooked. The girl kept her head low, hugging her umbrella and school bag as she hurried along the village road.
And that morning, for the first time in his long life as a prince, Mathien felt a true desire to hug someone who wasn't of his blood.
Someone named Hana.
After Hana's footsteps disappeared at the end of the road, Mathien still stood by the window.
His eyes fell on the line of potted plants along the sill. Drops of water still clung to the leaves. But some pots in the corner were dry. Hana hadn't had time to water them.
Mathien snorted softly.
"Why is it so hard to water two more pots?" he muttered, annoyed.
He glanced behind him, ensuring no one was watching. Then, with a light movement, his small body began to glow. The round silhouette stretched, his body grew quickly—and in an instant, a soft zzzzhh—bloop! filled the room.
Now, a man stood in the middle of the room.
Disheveled black hair, a long royal robe slightly wrinkled instead of elegant, and an expression of utmost displeasure.
The Prince of Valtherion, heir to a great kingdom, now stood in Hana's tiny house.
Holding a watering can.
"I've never even watered flowers in the palace," he grumbled, opening the window wide.
He stepped carefully onto grandmother's small wooden stool, crouched in front of the little pink flowers that looked wilted. His eyes examined them closely.
He poured the water gently.
Splash.
Too much.
"Idiot!" he cursed, quickly lifting the pot so the water wouldn't overflow.
Then to the next pot. But as he poured, he didn't realize his robe touched the previous pot—almost knocking it over.
"—UGH!"
With incredible reflexes, he caught the pot with one hand while keeping the watering can steady in the other. His body bent awkwardly, like a failed ballet dancer mid-performance.
He froze in that position.
Then hissed,
"If anyone sees me like this, I'll burn this village down."
After finishing the watering, he let out a long sigh. His shoulders slightly tired.
But then…
Click.
The wooden gate creaked. The sound of a bicycle.
Mathien's eyes widened. "—DON'T TELL ME THAT'S HANA?!"
He glowed again instantly.
Zzzhh—bloop!
An orange cat tumbled onto the ground, tail up, face panicked. It scrambled inside the house, slipped on spilled water, snagged on the tablecloth, and finally—BRUK!
Just as the door opened.
Hana appeared, panting. Her hair still wet, tie still crooked.
She peeked inside and frowned.
"Chiro? Why are you soaking wet?"
Mathien turned from behind the table, face sweaty and speckled with dirt.
"Nothing happened."
Hana narrowed her eyes.
"You were watering the flowers, weren't you?"
Mathien glanced at the pots, now neat, refreshed, gleaming wet.
"No."
"You watered them."
"NO."
Hana giggled. "Never thought the prince watering flowers could slip like that too."
"QUIET."
And for the first time in a long, hard day, Hana laughed softly.
Not a big laugh. But enough. Enough for Mathien to secretly smile behind his grumpy cat face.
Hana's laughter lingered in the air as she stepped inside, took off her shoes, and placed her bag by the door. Her hair still damp, dripping small raindrops onto the wooden floor. She crouched and stroked Mathien's still-grumpy head.
"Thank you, Chiro…" she whispered softly, fingers slipping through his thick neck fur.
Mathien didn't turn. But his tail swayed lightly to the side, almost unconsciously.
Hana smiled, then stood and walked to the kitchen. Her voice floated softly from there, light and airy. "I just ran back because I forgot my exam paper. And you… got all wet."
Mathien followed slowly. He sat on the kitchen doorway, watching Hana lift the food cover and stir the leftover instant noodles from the morning.
"Sorry, I can't give you salmon today. But I saved one chicken-flavored treat stick for you," Hana said, opening a small drawer and taking out a slightly dented cat snack packet.
Mathien stared at it for a moment, then snorted. "If I were human, I'd probably be offended."
But Hana just chuckled. She sat on the floor, opened the packet, and offered it to Mathien.
"Even if you're a prince from another world, you're still a small round creature I care about."
Mathien froze for a moment. But he didn't respond. He just approached the treat and began chewing slowly, like a knight swallowing his pride for a more important battle.
Outside, the rain had softened to a drizzle. Morning sunlight began peeking slowly from behind the clouds.
"I'm starting to lose my sanity around her, damn it."
🌸🌸🌸