Dinner was quieter than usual.
Not silent.
With Karin and Hikari at the table, true silence was impossible unless something was deeply wrong, and after what happened at school, I had already had enough deeply wrong for one day. But the noise had softened. It was not the usual chaotic dinner where Karin argued with vegetables, Hikari questioned whether soup remembered being water, and Ruri quietly managed everyone's pace like a small dining room administrator.
Tonight, the girls stayed closer together.
Hikari sat near Astrea.
Not beside me.
Astrea.
That alone said enough.
She had her small hands wrapped around her spoon, eating slowly, still a little tired from crying earlier but clearly calmer than before. Every few bites, she glanced at Astrea as if checking whether the word she had said in the car still existed.
Mama.
The word had changed the air in the house.
Nobody had forced it. Nobody had planned it. Nobody had sat down with a document and decided the household required one more adult title to make the children feel stable.
It just happened.
Hikari said it because she needed it.
Karin accepted it because it sounded strong.
Ruri thanked her because Ruri understood emotional truths faster than most adults.
And Astrea...
Astrea did not reject it.
That was the dangerous part.
The former Demon Queen, who had once sworn to reclaim her power and kill me, now sat at my dining table in house clothes, serving Hikari an extra small portion of her favorite side dish while pretending not to care that the child was watching her with sparkling eyes.
"This is enough," Astrea said, placing the dish down. "Eat slowly. Crying wastes stamina, and you have already spent enough today."
Hikari nodded solemnly. "Hikari will recover stamina."
Karin raised her spoon. "Do tears count as stamina loss?"
"Emotionally, yes," Astrea said.
"Can you train against it?"
Ruri looked horrified. "Karin."
"What? I'm asking."
Astrea considered it with far too much seriousness.
"You can build composure, but suppressing pain completely is foolish. Pain ignored becomes weakness in the foundation."
Karin blinked.
Ruri blinked too.
I looked at Astrea.
That was surprisingly good advice.
Astrea noticed me looking and narrowed her eyes.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You are staring as though I accidentally said something wise."
"You did."
"I say wise things often. Your comprehension is merely slow."
"Sure."
"Mage."
I drank water.
Survival.
After dinner, Ruri helped clear the table even though I told her she did not have to. Karin wanted to help too, which meant she carried exactly two plates with the dramatic seriousness of a soldier transporting supplies through enemy territory. Hikari tried to help by carrying spoons, then got distracted and asked Astrea if Mama could make the spoons sparkle later.
Astrea froze for half a second at the title.
Then answered as if nothing happened.
"After homework. And only if the spoons remain clean."
"Hikari will make spoons clean."
"You will wash them properly, not baptize them in bubbles."
"Hikari understands."
Karin whispered, "Spoon baptism."
Ruri whispered back, "Please don't."
I stood by the sink washing dishes and watched them from the corner of my eye.
The house felt different.
Not repaired completely.
The girls had been hurt today. That kind of thing did not disappear just because someone kicked down a principal's door and declared war on inadequate education. Hikari would probably ask more questions later. Karin might try to act tougher than she felt. Ruri would quietly think about it long after everyone else moved on.
But something had settled.
A missing branch had not magically grown on their family tree.
Someone had simply stepped into that blank space and said, Mine.
Loudly.
With property damage.
Very Astrea.
Very inconvenient.
Very effective.
After homework and bath time, I tucked the girls into bed one by one.
Ruri was first. She had arranged her blanket neatly and placed her family tree drawing on her desk. I noticed that she had added something to it. The linework was careful, but the ink was newer.
Beside my figure, she had drawn Astrea.
The hair was long, the posture straight, and the expression far more dignified than any children's drawing had the right to be. Underneath, in small handwriting, she had written: Mama.
I stood in the doorway for a second too long.
Ruri noticed.
"...Papa?"
I smiled quietly and walked over, sitting on the edge of her bed.
"You okay?"
She looked down at her blanket.
"I think so."
"That means not completely."
She nodded after a moment.
"Maybe not completely."
I placed a hand on her head.
"You don't have to be okay immediately."
Ruri's eyes softened.
"Is Astrea-san really okay with it?"
"With being called Mama?"
She nodded.
I looked toward the hallway.
"I think she's trying to pretend she's only tolerating it."
"But?"
"But she has not corrected anyone."
Ruri's mouth curved slightly.
"She looked happy."
"She looked attacked."
"Maybe both."
"That sounds accurate."
Ruri leaned lightly into my hand.
"Papa."
"Yeah?"
"Thank you for bringing us home first before asking."
My chest tightened.
Too smart.
Too observant.
Too kind.
"You noticed?"
Ruri nodded. "The car was quiet. But home felt safer."
I swallowed the small lump in my throat.
"Yeah. I wanted you somewhere safe."
"Papa always does that."
"I try."
"You do."
I nearly died again.
Emotional damage by Ruri should be classified as a high-rank threat.
I tucked her blanket around her shoulders.
"Sleep well."
"Goodnight, Papa."
"Goodnight, Ruri."
Karin's room was next.
She was already under the blanket, but her eyes were open and stubborn. That meant she was tired but refusing to admit it.
Classic Karin.
I sat beside her.
"You okay?"
"I didn't cry at school."
"I know."
"I cried at home."
"I know."
She frowned.
"That doesn't count."
"Why not?"
"Because home is base."
I nodded seriously.
"Fair."
"At school, if you cry, enemies see weakness."
"They were classmates, not enemies."
"Today, they were enemies."
I sighed.
Not because she was wrong exactly.
Because she was six, and I did not want her learning the world like that too early.
"Karin."
She looked away.
"I know. No punching."
"I wasn't going to say that."
"You were thinking it."
"Maybe."
She looked back at me.
"If someone says Hikari isn't loved again..."
Her voice shook.
Not with fear.
With anger.
I brushed her hair back gently.
"Then you tell the teacher. And if the teacher doesn't fix it, you tell me."
"And Mama?"
I paused.
Then nodded.
"And Mama."
Karin's eyes brightened a little.
"She kicked the door."
"She did."
"That was awesome."
"That was expensive."
"Doors can be replaced."
"Who taught you that logic?"
"Mama."
"Of course."
Karin grinned for the first time since pickup.
Small.
But real.
I tucked her in.
"Sleep."
"Papa?"
"Yeah?"
"Is Mama strong?"
"Yes."
"Stronger than you?"
"Right now? No."
"When she gets all her power back?"
I looked at her.
Karin's sharp eyes watched me with complete seriousness.
"That depends."
"On what?"
"Whether I'm allowed to sleep first."
She stared.
Then giggled.
Good.
Mission accomplished.
Hikari was last.
She was hugging her pillow and looking at the door like she had been waiting for me. Her eyes were still a little puffy, but the fear from earlier had faded into sleepy curiosity.
"Papa."
"Yeah, tiny spoon creature?"
She smiled faintly.
"Papa borrowed Mama's nickname."
"Technically, Mama called you that first."
"Hikari likes it."
"I know."
I sat beside her and pulled the blanket up.
Hikari grabbed my sleeve.
"Can Mama sleep with Hikari tonight?"
My hand paused.
Ah.
There it was.
The reasonable request that was not simple at all.
I looked toward the hallway.
Astrea was downstairs. Probably sitting on the couch with her arms crossed, waiting to accuse me of taking too long, while also listening to every sound in the house because she was absolutely not concerned.
"Hikari."
"Hm?"
"Mama and I need to talk first."
Her face fell slightly.
"Did Hikari do bad?"
"No. No, you did nothing bad."
"Is Mama going away?"
That one hurt.
I leaned closer and pressed a hand gently over hers.
"No. She is not going away tonight."
"Promise?"
I hesitated for only half a second.
Then nodded.
"Promise."
Hikari held my sleeve tighter.
"Then after talk, Mama can check Hikari?"
"I'll ask her."
"Hikari wants Mama to know Hikari is not sad anymore."
"I think she'd like to know that."
Hikari nodded, satisfied enough for now.
"Papa?"
"Yeah?"
"Hikari loves Papa."
I closed my eyes briefly.
Direct hit.
"Hikari loves Mama too."
I opened them.
She looked sleepy and sincere and completely unaware of the absolute chaos she had caused inside the household structure.
"I know."
"Is that okay?"
I brushed her hair gently away from her face.
"Yeah. That's okay."
Hikari smiled.
"Goodnight, Papa."
"Goodnight, Hikari."
By the time I returned downstairs, my emotional stamina had been reduced to dust and parental instinct.
Astrea was exactly where I expected her to be.
Sitting on the couch with her arms crossed.
Back straight.
Expression guarded.
The television was off. No anime. No chips. No tea.
Just Astrea, waiting.
The house felt quiet around us.
Different from the earlier silence. This one had weight.
I sat on the couch opposite her.
For a few seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then Astrea raised one eyebrow.
"What now, Mage?"
I leaned back slightly and let out a tired breath.
"About what happened earlier..."
Her eyes sharpened immediately.
"Let me make things clear, Mage."
"Here we go."
"I did not do it because of you."
"I figured."
"In fact, I still plan on killing you once I regain my powers."
I nodded.
"Well, that checks out."
She narrowed her eyes.
"You accept that too easily."
"It's consistent."
"You are irritating."
"I've been told."
"Frequently, I assume."
"By people who love me and people who tried to kill me. Wide demographic."
Astrea's mouth twitched.
Only slightly.
Then she hid it by leaning back and crossing her arms tighter.
"Speak. You wanted to discuss something."
"Yeah."
I reached for the folder on the low table.
The same folder I hated.
Paperwork.
The final boss of adulthood.
"I actually want to propose something."
Astrea's gaze dropped to the folder.
Suspicion appeared immediately.
"Spill it out, Mage."
I opened the folder and slid a form across the table.
Not an official completed document yet. Just a draft. A framework. Something I had put together from old forms, guardian templates, and the fake wife paperwork I had been avoiding since the girls entered my life.
Astrea picked it up.
Her eyes scanned the page.
I watched her expression carefully.
"I can unseal another portion of your power," I said. "Not everything. Not even close. But I can bring you up to fifteen percent."
Her eyes lifted.
"That is not what this form says."
"No."
"This form concerns the children."
"Yeah."
She stared at me.
I rubbed the back of my neck.
"Today hurt them. More than I expected. I thought I could cover everything alone with paperwork, guardianship, and enough fake explanations to get through school systems. But kids don't think in paperwork. They saw a blank space where a mother should be, and people used that blank space to hurt them."
Astrea said nothing.
So I continued.
"I'm not asking you to become anything real for me. Let's make that clear before you threaten my coffee again."
"I may still threaten it."
"Understood."
I pointed at the form.
"I'm asking you to become the girls' mother until they become stable. Publicly. Officially enough for school and records. At home, only if they want it. You can set boundaries. You can complain. You can call it temporary, strategic, logistical, whatever helps your pride survive."
Her eyes remained on me.
Sharp.
Unreadable.
"But if they call you Mama, and you're willing to answer... then I want to make sure the world stops treating that like a blank space."
Astrea looked back at the form.
Her fingers tightened slightly around the paper.
For a long moment, she was silent.
Then she sighed.
"I knew you would ask something like this."
"Did you?"
"Of course. You are predictable when it concerns them."
"That's insulting and fair."
She lowered the form.
"I made a scene at the school."
"You kicked a door off its hinges."
"It was a weak door."
"It had hinges."
"Poorly defended hinges."
"I'm paying for those hinges."
"You may deduct the cost from your dignity. It has little remaining value."
"I walked into that one."
"Yes."
She looked at the form again.
"If I refuse?"
"Then we figure out another way."
"You would not force it?"
"No."
Her eyes narrowed.
"Why?"
"Because forced motherhood sounds like an excellent way to traumatize everyone involved."
Astrea stared.
Then she looked away.
"Hmph."
There it was.
The sound of half a wall lowering.
"Fine," she said.
I blinked.
"Fine?"
"Do not make me repeat myself."
"You agreed faster than expected."
"I said fine. Since I already made a scene at the school, I might as well live with it for the meantime."
"For the meantime."
"Yes."
"Temporary."
"Obviously."
"Strategic."
"Precisely."
"For the kids."
Her gaze sharpened.
"Only for the kids."
I nodded.
"Good."
She looked suspicious again.
"You are accepting this too calmly."
"I like peace."
"You are never peaceful."
"I aspire."
"You fail."
"Daily."
I reached for my phone.
Astrea watched me.
"What are you doing?"
"Calling Ruruka."
Her expression immediately soured.
"Must we involve the swordswoman?"
"If this becomes paperwork, yes."
"I dislike how often your world requires witnesses."
"Me too."
I called Ruruka.
She answered after the third ring.
"Nii-sama?"
"Can you come over today?"
A pause.
Then a sigh.
"How urgent?"
"It involves the kids."
The line went silent.
Not a casual silence.
A dangerous one.
"I'm on my way."
She hung up.
I stared at the phone.
Astrea raised an eyebrow.
"Your sister is intense."
"Yes."
"That was not a conversation. That was a deployment order."
"Also yes."
While waiting for Ruruka, Astrea and I remained in the living room with the form between us like a sleeping monster.
Technically, the form was not binding yet.
Practically, it had already changed things.
Astrea tapped one finger against her arm.
"How will this work?"
"That's what we need to decide."
"You and I still do not like each other."
"That's generous. You still want to kill me."
"Correct."
"And I still prefer not dying."
"A cowardly preference."
"A healthy one."
She leaned back.
"If I am to be considered their mother, then our cohabitation requires structure. Children notice tension."
I looked at her.
"You've been thinking about this."
"No."
"You definitely have."
"I observed."
"Same thing."
"It is not."
"It is when you do it."
Astrea glared.
I held up both hands.
"Fine. Structure. We keep things stable in front of the girls. No death threats during meals."
"You make that difficult."
"Try."
"No public hostility at school," she added.
"That applies to you too."
"The principal survived."
"Barely."
"He should be grateful."
"He probably is."
Astrea looked pleased.
I continued before she got too proud.
"We also need rules about discipline."
"I am aware. Karin responds to command. Hikari responds to reassurance. Ruri responds to responsibility, but she carries too much of it and must be stopped from acting like an adult."
I stared at her again.
She frowned.
"What?"
"You really do know them."
Her expression tightened.
"I live here."
"You care."
"I perform the role I accepted."
"You accepted it five minutes ago."
"I have high standards."
"Sure."
"Mage."
"Sorry."
She looked toward the stairs.
"They are not normal children."
I went still.
Astrea did not look at me.
"I have known since the first day. They smell ancient. Not like humans. Not like demons either. Their mana is too deep, but sealed. Hidden. Their instincts are too clean. Hikari's questions are foolish, but her presence is not. Karin's aggression feels more like young predator energy than human misbehavior. Ruri's stillness is... old."
I watched her carefully.
The room suddenly felt smaller.
Astrea turned back to me.
"What are they?"
I exhaled slowly.
I knew this conversation would come eventually.
Honestly, I was surprised it took this long.
"They're dragons."
Astrea did not react.
No widening eyes.
No dramatic pause.
No accusation.
She simply nodded once.
"I see."
"That's it?"
"What did you expect?"
"I don't know. Shock?"
"I was sealed, not blind. My instincts remain flawless."
"Of course they do."
"They are young dragons, then?"
"Yes."
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees.
"They hatched from eggs. Long story. Very strange. Expensive. Their public records say they are my daughters. Human. Age six. Normal enough. I hide their wings, tails, horns, and status through arcane concealment."
Astrea's eyes sharpened.
"Constant concealment?"
"Yes."
"That is inefficient."
"It is necessary."
"It strains you."
"A little."
"Liar."
I looked away.
"It's manageable."
She studied me.
"Does the swordswoman know?"
"Ruruka knows they're dragons."
"The guild master?"
"Aaron? No. Not that part."
"Good."
"You agree?"
"Obviously. The fewer people aware of their nature, the safer they are."
That was not the answer I expected.
Astrea looked toward the stairs again.
"Dragons, demons, humans, spirits, it makes no difference."
"No difference?"
"They are children."
The words were simple.
Too simple.
My throat tightened.
Astrea crossed her arms again, as if embarrassed by her own statement.
"If I am their mother, then I am their mother. Their species is irrelevant. I will do the job."
I looked at her for a long moment.
Then nodded.
"Thank you."
She looked annoyed.
"Do not thank me yet. I may perform the role with unbearable excellence."
"That sounds expensive."
"It will be."
"Great."
She held out her hand.
"The fifteen percent."
I sighed.
"You never forget payment."
"I am not a charity."
"No. You are apparently a temporary mother with contract benefits."
Her eyebrow twitched.
"Do you want me to change my mind?"
"No."
I stood and moved to the open space near the couch.
Astrea stood as well.
Releasing another chain would be harder than the first. The ten percent I gave her before had been urgent, messy, and done under pressure. This time, I had to stabilize the seal properly. The Arcane Seal I used on her now was a lower version of the original spell that sealed her three years ago.
The original was Absolute Seal.
That thing was brutal.
A full conceptual lock binding body, mana, spirit, and authority. It had nearly killed me to use at full scale back then. The current Arcane Seal was weaker, cleaner, and adjustable. Still painful to modify, especially while my available power had not fully recovered.
Astrea watched me quietly.
"You do not have to do this tonight."
I glanced at her.
"You worried?"
"No. I am assessing whether you will collapse and force me to carry the household alone tomorrow."
"Very caring."
"Practical."
"Sure."
"Mage."
I smiled faintly.
Then raised my hand.
Arcane circles unfolded in the air, one after another. Pale blue lines wrapped around Astrea's body like floating threads, each one connecting to invisible chains embedded deep within her mana circuits. The seal responded to my command, humming low enough to vibrate in my bones.
Astrea stood still.
Proud.
Unflinching.
But her fingers tightened once.
I saw it.
"Relax," I said.
"Do not order me."
"You're tense."
"I am always composed."
"You're always dramatic."
"I will injure you after this."
"Noted."
I reached into the seal.
The second chain was deeper.
Harder.
I pulled carefully, using arcane control to loosen the binding without tearing the structure apart. Pain lanced through my arm first, then my chest, then behind my eyes. It felt like trying to unhook a blade from my own ribs while smiling politely.
Fantastic.
Loved that.
The chain shifted.
Astrea inhaled sharply.
Dark mana flickered around her shoulders.
The room temperature dropped, then rose, then steadied.
I gritted my teeth and pulled.
The chain unlocked.
Power flowed back into her.
Only another five percent.
Fifteen total.
But the difference was obvious.
Her presence sharpened immediately, heavier than before, not overwhelming but undeniably dangerous. The air around her obeyed in small ways. Shadows at the room's edges deepened. The weak glow from the lamps bent subtly toward her like light itself was reconsidering its life choices.
I released the spell and stumbled half a step.
Pain shot through my chest.
My vision blurred for a second.
Astrea moved.
I prepared for the worst instantly.
Old instincts.
Enemy gaining power. Seal loosened. Close distance. Possible attack.
My mana gathered on reflex.
Astrea grinned.
Not kindly.
Abyssal power covered her fingers.
"Ah."
I began forming a barrier.
Too slow.
She flicked my forehead.
Hard.
A sharp burst of abyssal energy snapped against my skin.
I sat back on the couch more from surprise than damage.
"Ow."
Astrea smirked.
"That is partial pain for my ongoing revenge."
I stared at her.
Then sighed.
"You got fifteen percent back and used it to flick me."
"Correct."
"You are ridiculous."
"I am merciful."
"That hurt."
"It was meant to."
"I almost defended."
"You should have."
I rubbed my forehead.
Then, against my better judgment, I chuckled.
Astrea blinked.
Then her own mouth curved slightly.
Not a full laugh.
Just enough.
A dangerous amount of almost-laughter.
"You're enjoying this," I said.
"I enjoy your suffering."
"Consistent."
"Good."
The doorbell rang.
Both of us turned.
I checked the camera.
Ruruka.
She did not wait.
The smart lock opened because she knew the code, and my younger sister entered like she paid rent in authority.
She removed her shoes properly this time, then marched into the living room and sat across from us.
Her eyes moved from me to Astrea, then to the paperwork on the table.
"Now spill. What happened?"
I leaned back and sighed.
"Long day."
"Nii-sama."
"Right."
I explained.
The school activity.
The family tree.
The comments.
The girls crying.
Hikari asking why she did not have a mother.
Astrea kicking the principal's office door off its hinges.
Ruruka's expression changed several times during that part.
Concern.
Anger.
Pride.
Annoyance.
Back to concern.
When I mentioned Hikari calling Astrea Mama, Ruruka's gaze moved slowly toward Astrea.
Astrea lifted her chin.
"What?"
Ruruka stared.
Then sighed.
"I kind of expected this to happen."
I blinked.
"You did?"
"Yes."
Astrea frowned. "Explain yourself, swordswoman."
Ruruka crossed her arms.
"The girls already trusted you. Hikari liked you. Karin admired you. Ruri watched you carefully and accepted you. Then you defended them publicly. Children understand actions more than explanations. Of course they attached the title to you."
Astrea looked displeased.
Not because Ruruka was wrong.
Because Ruruka was very right.
Ruruka looked at me next.
"And you, Nii-sama, are too slow with these things."
"Excuse me."
"You are emotionally competent only after being hit by consequences."
"That sounds unfair."
"It is accurate."
Astrea smirked.
I pointed at her.
"Don't enjoy this."
"I enjoy accurate judgment."
"Traitor."
"I was never your ally."
"You two are bonding through insulting me. I hate this."
Ruruka ignored me and picked up the form.
"If she is willing to do it, then we do it properly."
Astrea narrowed her eyes.
"I did not say I was willing to be handled by your bureaucracy."
"You already broke a school door and declared the girls your daughters."
"It was necessary."
"Then paperwork is necessary too."
Astrea leaned back.
"Your world is obsessed with paper."
"Yes," Ruruka said. "And that paper protects my nieces."
That quieted the room.
Ruruka placed the form back on the table and continued, professional now.
"First, Astrea needs a legal identity. Not Astrea, obviously. That name is dangerous and too traceable if anyone digs through historical or dungeon records."
Astrea looked offended.
"My name is not something to be hidden."
"It is if you want to attend parent meetings without causing international panic."
Astrea opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
Good.
Ruruka was effective.
"We use Ria," Ruruka said.
Astrea's expression shifted slightly.
"Hikari's name for me."
"Yes. It is already what the household uses. Simpler."
I nodded.
"Ria what?"
Ruruka looked at me.
Then at Astrea.
Then back at me.
"Arclight."
I felt my soul leave my body briefly.
Astrea slowly turned toward me.
"What."
Ruruka continued before either of us could fully react.
"If she is going to be registered as the girls' mother and appear in school records, medical emergency contact, residence documents, and guardian paperwork, the cleanest route is to register her as Ria Arclight."
Astrea's eyes sharpened into weapons.
"Explain the implication."
Ruruka did not flinch.
"Ren Arclight's spouse."
Silence.
Heavy.
Dangerous.
The kind that made coffee machines fear for their lives.
Astrea looked at me.
"Spouse?" she repeated slowly.
Dark mana flickered at her fingertips.
"I will tear this paper apart. Then I will tear the system that created it apart. Then I will tear you apart for suggesting it."
I raised both hands immediately.
"Hey, I didn't even say it yet—"
"You thought it," she snapped.
"That's not illegal."
"It should be."
Ruruka didn't move.
Didn't flinch.
Didn't even blink.
"If you destroy the paperwork," she said calmly, "the school will ask questions."
Astrea's gaze snapped to her.
"I will silence them."
"With what?" Ruruka asked. "Violence?"
"Yes."
"And when the authorities investigate?"
"I will silence them too."
"And when the guild gets involved?"
Astrea paused.
Ruruka continued, voice still level.
"And when they discover three children with concealed identities, unstable records, and a guardian who cannot legally exist?"
Astrea's fingers tightened.
The dark mana flickered harder.
"I will erase the records."
"You don't know how this system works," Ruruka said. "Records are duplicated, archived, cross-referenced. You erase one, ten more appear. You escalate, they escalate. Eventually, someone stronger than me gets involved."
Astrea's eyes narrowed.
"I welcome that."
"No," Ruruka said. "You don't."
Silence again.
Sharper this time.
Ruruka leaned forward slightly.
"Because if you turn this into a conflict, the girls become targets. Not because of what they did. Because of what they are."
Astrea went still.
Completely still.
Ruruka didn't stop.
"You said you would protect them. That you would act as their mother."
Astrea's jaw tightened.
"I did."
"Then act like it."
The words landed harder than any attack.
"If you reject this solution," Ruruka continued, "you don't hurt Nii-sama. You don't hurt me. You hurt them. Because the world will keep asking questions, and you will have no answer that keeps them safe."
Astrea's gaze dropped to the form.
Her fingers loosened.
The dark mana faded.
Ruruka finished quietly.
"You don't have to like it. You don't have to accept the meaning behind it. But if you want them protected, this is the cleanest path."
Astrea exhaled slowly.
Long.
Controlled.
Then she clicked her tongue.
"...Tch."
She looked away.
"Your logic is irritating."
"I know."
"It is also correct."
"I know."
Astrea glared at the paper like it had personally offended her existence.
"...Fine."
She crossed her arms.
"But if anyone interprets this beyond its function, I will correct them."
"With words?" I asked.
"With overwhelming force."
"Of course."
Ruruka nodded once.
"Then we proceed."
Her eyes narrowed into a full glare, the kind that promised violence in several creative forms.
"Do not get the wrong idea, Mage."
I raised both hands.
"I like to live my life in peace, thank you very much."
Ruruka gave me a dry look.
"Nii-sama, your life has not been peaceful for years."
"I aspire."
"You fail."
"Everyone keeps saying that."
"Because it is true."
Astrea stared at the form like it had personally insulted her lineage.
"Spouse, huh?"
"On paper," Ruruka said.
"That word has weight."
"It solves problems."
"It creates others."
"Fewer than explaining why an unrelated woman lives in my brother's home, answers to Mama, handles school complaints, and has no legal identity."
Astrea paused.
Ruruka had a point.
A very annoying point.
I hated paperwork logic.
It was evil because it was often correct.
Ruruka continued.
"We create a background: Ria Arclight. Returned from overseas after a long medical and family-related absence. Mother of the girls. Spouse of Ren Arclight. Residence registered here. Emergency contact. Guardian authorization. School records updated."
Astrea looked at me.
"Medical absence?"
"Better than sealed Demon Queen."
"Hmph."
Ruruka nodded. "We will also need identification. Insurance records. Possibly a marriage registration backdated through correction procedures."
I rubbed my forehead.
"That sounds illegal."
"Not illegal if handled through existing irregular-document correction channels."
"That sounds more illegal."
"It is bureaucratically inconvenient, not illegal."
Astrea looked between us.
"Your society is absurd."
"Yes," Ruruka and I said at the same time.
Astrea almost smiled.
Almost.
Ruruka gathered the forms into a neat stack.
"I will help."
Astrea's gaze sharpened.
"You are helping me?"
"No," Ruruka said immediately. "I am helping my nieces."
Astrea snorted.
"Yeah, sure, sure. Go along now, swordswoman."
Ruruka stood.
"I am not finished."
"You appear finished."
"I will contact Aaron."
"No," I said immediately.
Both women looked at me.
I cleared my throat.
"Maybe not Aaron yet."
Ruruka narrowed her eyes.
"Nii-sama."
"I'm serious. I already told Aaron my wife was overseas. That's the story he believes."
She paused.
"...You told him that?"
"Yeah. It was the cleanest explanation at the time. If we suddenly go to him asking for document help about a 'new' wife appearing out of nowhere, it'll raise questions we don't want."
Ruruka crossed her arms.
"He already thinks your paperwork is suspicious."
"Suspicious is fine. Contradictory is not. Right now, he thinks the girls are mine and my wife's. Biological. Normal. Stable."
Astrea glanced at me.
"...Biological."
"On paper," I said.
Ruruka's gaze sharpened.
"And if we involve him?"
"Then we risk him digging deeper. He's not stupid. If anything doesn't line up, he'll start asking questions. And once he starts, he won't stop until he's satisfied."
Ruruka went quiet.
I continued.
"We don't need him for this. You can handle the documents. You're better at this kind of thing anyway."
"That is true," she admitted.
"And if Aaron stays out of it, then nothing changes from his perspective. My wife came back from overseas. The girls are ours. End of story."
Astrea crossed her arms.
"That does sound... cleaner."
Ruruka exhaled slowly.
"...Fine. We keep Aaron out of it."
I nodded.
"Good."
"But if something goes wrong—"
"I'll handle it."
She stared at me for a moment.
Then sighed.
"I always have to use vague words when dealing with your life."
"Thank you."
"That was not praise."
"I'll take it."
Ruruka moved toward the entrance, then stopped and looked at Astrea.
Her expression grew serious.
"Ria."
Astrea's eyes narrowed slightly at the name, but she did not reject it.
"What?"
"If you hurt them, I will not care what you were, what you are, or how much power you regain."
Astrea stood.
Slowly.
For a second, the air tightened.
Fifteen percent of the Demon Queen faced my A-rank little sister in my living room beside a stack of family registration forms.
This was my life.
Astrea lifted her chin.
"If I hurt them, swordswoman, you may strike me first."
Ruruka went still.
So did I.
Astrea continued, voice cold and honest.
"But if another harms them, stand aside or follow me. I will not wait for permission."
Ruruka stared at her.
Then nodded once.
"Good."
She turned to me.
"Goodnight, Nii-sama."
"Goodnight, Ruruka."
"And ice your forehead."
I paused.
"What?"
She pointed.
Astrea looked smug.
I touched my forehead.
There was a small red mark from the flick.
"Traitor," I muttered.
Ruruka smiled faintly.
Then she left.
The door closed.
The house returned to quiet.
Astrea looked toward the hallway.
"Your sister is intense."
"Only if you're hostile."
Astrea looked at me.
"And?"
"And me."
"You are a category?"
"Apparently, yeah."
"That explains much."
"Does it?"
"Yes."
We both sat back down.
The forms remained on the table.
Ria Arclight.
Ren Arclight's spouse.
Mother of Ruri, Karin, and Hikari.
I stared at the words in my head and felt my soul consider early retirement.
Astrea stared at the same forms with an expression that suggested she was imagining setting them on fire, then deciding Hikari would be upset if the paperwork disappeared.
After a few minutes, she spoke.
"This does not change my intention."
"To kill me?"
"Yes."
"I know."
"I am only doing this for the children."
"I know."
"I am not your wife."
"On paper, apparently."
"Mage."
"I mean legally, maybe."
"Mage."
"I'll stop."
"Good."
Another quiet stretch passed.
This one was different.
Less heavy.
More tired.
Like the day had finally run out of strength.
I stood and gathered the forms.
"I'll put these away before Hikari draws on them."
"She would improve them."
"Probably."
"Your paperwork lacks charm."
"It lacks many things."
"Including dignity."
"Goodnight, Ria."
She paused.
Just slightly.
Then she stood as well.
"Goodnight to you as well, Mage."
That was new.
Not an insult.
Not a threat.
Not even a scoff.
Just goodnight.
I looked at her for half a second longer than necessary.
She noticed immediately.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You are thinking something foolish."
"Always."
"Then stop."
"I'll try."
"You will fail."
"Probably."
We headed toward our rooms in opposite directions.
Before I went upstairs, I checked the girls' hallway one more time. Ruri's door was slightly open. Karin had kicked part of her blanket off. Hikari was asleep hugging her pillow, face peaceful now.
Safe.
Loved.
With a father who was tired beyond human language.
And apparently a temporary mother who was legally about to become Ria Arclight.
I stood there for a moment and exhaled.
Another day was over.
A school office had been destroyed.
A Demon Queen had accepted motherhood.
My sister had weaponized paperwork.
I had unsealed another five percent of a former enemy's power and got flicked in the forehead as revenge.
Hopefully tomorrow would be more normal.
I immediately regretted thinking that.
Normal had a habit of hearing me and laughing.
*****
End of Chapter 36
Arclight Parenting Status
Parents:
Ren Arclight — Retired Archmage / Full-Time Dragon Dad
Ria Arclight — Former Demon Queen / Full-Time Dragon Mom (Temporary... allegedly)
Current Family Objective:
Complete family registration
Protect the girls' future
Prevent paperwork from becoming the strongest enemy
Children Under Protection:
Karin — Fire / Chaos / Future Door Inspector
Ruri — Ice / Emotional Intelligence / Family Architect
Hikari — Light / Reality Risk / Inventor of "Mama"
Today's Activities:
Completed bedtime patrol
Provided emotional support to all daughters
Held late-night parental conference
Negotiated temporary motherhood
Unsealed additional Demon Queen power (15% Total)
Survived minor revenge attack (Forehead Flick)
Established household co-parenting rules
Prepared legal family registration
Successfully recruited Ruruka as Bureaucracy Commander
New Developments:
Ria officially accepted the role of "Mama"
Household now operates under two-parent authority
Children emotionally stabilized after school incident
Dragon identities remain secure
"Ria Arclight" identity approved
Marriage paperwork now considered a tactical weapon
Household Status:
Stable
Emotionally Growing
Legally Complicated
Parents Stress Levels:
Ren
Physically Recovered
Emotionally Vulnerable
Bureaucratically Terrified
Ria
Tsundere
Protective
In Complete Denial
Parenting Skill Growth:
Ren: 58.9% (Family Foundation Bonus Applied)
Ria: 34.8%
(Mama Instincts Unlocked)
Family Synergy: 41.3% (Co-Parent Protocol Established)
Current Parents Status:
Ren
Active
Protective
Slowly Losing Every Argument
Ria
Active
Defensive
Absolutely Not His Wife (According to Ria)
Immediate Priorities
Finalize legal documents
Maintain stable household
Raise three dragon daughters
Prevent Hikari from decorating official paperwork
Prevent Karin from redefining "discipline"
Remind Ruri she is still a child
Operational Assessment:
Mission Type:
Family Registration + Emotional Stability
Difficulty:
Paperwork
Emotional Status:
Ren
Calm - Hopeful - Confused
Ria
Embarrassed - Protective - Denying Everything
Future Outlook:
Household Stability Increasing
Co-Parent Coordination Improving
Romantic Tension Accidentally Rising
Children Already Believe This Is Permanent
Parents Personal Statement:
Ren: "Hopefully tomorrow will be normal."
Ria: "I am only doing this for the children."
Reality's Response:
"Paperwork has successfully accomplished what three Demon Wars, one Abyss, and countless life-threatening battles never could.":