Astrea's pov
Friday morning began with an offense.
Not a great calamity. Not a dungeon breach. Not a monster attack. Not even Karin attempting to hide crunchy snacks in her socks, though that had already happened once this week and required a stern correction.
No.
This offense was worse in a quieter, more personal way.
The mage intended to attend Family Day wearing that.
I stood in the living room with my arms crossed, staring at Ren Arclight as he came downstairs in what he apparently considered appropriate clothing for presenting himself before other parents, teachers, and children.
A loose shirt.
Old pants.
Shoes that had clearly survived things shoes should not survive.
His hair was fixed only in the sense that it had lost a battle with his hand and been declared acceptable by a man who possessed no standards.
He stopped at the foot of the stairs when he noticed my stare.
Then he looked down at himself.
"What?"
I stared harder.
His expression became wary.
"What now?"
"Mage."
"Yes?"
"You are not going to Family Day looking like that."
He blinked once.
Then twice.
Then sighed as though I had asked him to conquer a continent before breakfast.
"Do I have to?"
"You are a father."
"I know."
"Then dress properly."
"This is proper enough."
I looked him up and down.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
With the full weight of my judgment.
"It is not."
His shoulders dropped.
"Ria, it's a school activity. I'm not attending a royal banquet."
"You are attending an event where your daughters will introduce their family. You will stand beside them. They will look at you with pride. Other children will look at you. Other parents will look at you. Teachers who already fear this household will look at you."
"That last part sounds like your fault."
"Correct. Which is why the rest of us must look impressive."
He rubbed the back of his neck.
"I don't know if impressive is necessary."
"It is."
"Comfort is important too."
"Dignity is important."
"I lost most of that when I became a father."
"Then recover what little remains."
He opened his mouth.
I narrowed my eyes.
He closed it.
Good.
Ren Arclight was an absurd man. Powerful enough to seal me. Reckless enough to unseal part of my power because of children. Irritating enough to survive most of my insults through laziness alone.
But he was not immune to a proper glare.
He sighed again.
"Fine."
He turned and went back upstairs.
I watched until he disappeared.
Only then did I hear giggling behind me.
I turned.
The three children stood near the dining table, dressed in the outfits Ren had selected for them.
Ruri wore a simple dress with a cardigan. Neat, acceptable, but not enough.
Karin wore a casual top and skirt combination that looked prepared for school, but not for victory. Her hair had been brushed, but without ambition.
Hikari wore a cute dress, yes, but the ribbon was not balanced and the collar sat slightly unevenly.
I stared.
The children slowly stopped giggling.
Karin blinked.
"Mama?"
I moved closer.
"Who dressed you?"
"Papa," Hikari said proudly.
Ruri looked down at her own outfit, then back at me. "Is something wrong?"
I looked toward the stairs where the mage had vanished.
Then back at the girls.
"Nothing is wrong."
Karin tilted her head.
"That sounds like something is wrong."
"Correct."
Hikari touched her ribbon. "Is Hikari crooked?"
"Only slightly."
"Hikari is slightly crooked?"
"No. Your ribbon is."
"Oh."
Ruri's expression became thoughtful. "Papa tried his best."
"I am aware. That is why I will not insult him where he can hear."
Karin grinned. "You already insulted him."
"That was necessary."
Hikari raised her hand.
"Mama can make Hikari extra cute?"
I froze.
The question was simple.
The expression was not.
Hikari looked at me with absolute trust, both hands holding the edge of her dress, eyes bright in the way that made refusal impossible unless one possessed no soul. I had been called many things in my life. Demon Queen. Calamity. Tyrant. Sovereign. Disaster. Monster.
Soulless was inaccurate.
Unfortunately.
"Yes," I said. "Come here."
Hikari immediately cheered and ran to me.
Karin followed. "Me too?"
"Obviously."
Ruri held her hands together. "I am fine as I am."
I turned to her.
"No daughter of mine will be less cute than possible."
The room went silent.
I realized what I had said a second too late.
Daughter.
Mine.
The word had left my mouth naturally.
Disgusting.
Dangerous.
Unrecoverable.
The three girls stared at me.
Then their faces lit up.
"Mama said daughter," Hikari whispered.
Karin pumped her fist. "Daughter rank confirmed."
Ruri's cheeks turned pink, and she smiled in that quiet way that always felt like being struck by a spell that ignored barriers.
I cleared my throat.
"Do not become distracted. We have limited time before the mage returns wearing something hopefully less offensive."
"Yes, Mama!" all three said.
That was unfair.
Coordinated emotional attack.
They had learned too quickly.
I brought them to the bedroom and began repairs.
Hikari first.
Her dress was already good, but the details needed correction. I fixed the collar, adjusted the ribbon, brushed her hair carefully, and tied a softer bow with better balance. Hikari stayed still for exactly seven seconds before curiosity returned.
"Mama, is Family Day like a festival?"
"Smaller."
"Will there be food?"
"Yes."
"Will there be family?"
"That is the purpose."
"Will Hikari introduce Mama?"
I paused with the brush in my hand.
"Yes."
Hikari smiled into the mirror.
"Hikari will say Mama is pretty."
"You will say what the teacher asks."
"Hikari thinks teacher will ask."
"Then you may speak accurately."
"Hikari understands. Mama is accurately pretty."
I closed my eyes.
This child was dangerous.
Karin was next.
She wanted "battle cute."
I refused the term.
She insisted.
We compromised.
I adjusted her outfit to allow easier movement while still making her look presentable. I fixed her hair with a side clip, then added a small ribbon that she initially rejected until I said it looked like a commander's mark.
That settled it.
Karin stood before the mirror, turning once.
"I look strong."
"You look presentable."
"Strongly presentable."
"Acceptable."
"Can I backflip at school?"
"No."
"What about if people ask for talent?"
"No."
"What if it is a controlled backflip?"
"No."
"What if Papa catches me?"
"No."
She pouted.
"You and Papa are both anti-backflip."
"Because we value your skull."
"My skull is strong."
"Not stronger than school flooring."
She considered this seriously.
"Fair."
Ruri came last.
She stood quietly while I adjusted her cardigan and brushed her hair. Unlike Karin and Hikari, Ruri did not ask for anything. She rarely did, which was precisely why I paid more attention. Children who asked loudly were easy to hear. Children who quietly accepted whatever they were given required vigilance.
I chose a small hair accessory that matched her dress but did not stand out too much.
Ruri touched it gently.
"It is pretty."
"It suits you."
She looked up at me.
"Thank you, Mama."
There it was again.
The title.
Gentle this time.
Not desperate like yesterday. Not triumphant like Hikari. Not battle-certified like Karin.
Just warm.
I looked away first.
"Hmph. If you are to stand beside me today, looking presentable is the minimum requirement."
Ruri smiled.
"Yes, Mama."
By the time we returned downstairs, the three girls looked perfect.
Not overly decorated. Not uncomfortable. Not like dolls. They looked like themselves, but brighter. Ruri, neat and gentle. Karin, lively and sharp-eyed. Hikari, soft and sparkling with every step.
The children cheered for themselves in the hallway.
"Hikari is extra cute!"
"Karin is battle cute!"
Ruri smiled. "We look nice."
"You look superior," I corrected.
Karin grinned. "Mama says superior."
"Do not repeat that at school."
"Why?"
"Other parents may become jealous."
Hikari gasped softly. "Mama is protecting other parents' feelings."
"Something like that."
Ren returned downstairs at that moment.
I turned.
Then stopped.
He had changed into fitted jeans, proper shoes, a white shirt, and a casual coat that actually suited his frame. His hair was still somewhat careless, but in a way that looked intentional if one was generous.
I was not generous.
But I could admit function.
He reached the living room and spread his arms slightly.
"Better?"
I looked him up and down.
Once.
Twice.
The children watched me like judges awaiting a verdict.
"Acceptable," I said.
Ren blinked.
"That's it?"
"You now look like a proper spouse."
The room froze.
I froze.
Ren froze.
The children did not freeze.
Hikari clapped. "Papa is proper spouse!"
Karin looked at Ren seriously. "Papa leveled up."
Ruri covered her mouth, trying not to laugh.
Ren stared at me.
"Proper spouse?"
I lifted my chin.
"For paperwork purposes."
"Right."
"Do not get the wrong idea."
"I am actively avoiding wrong ideas."
"Good."
He looked like he wanted to laugh but also wanted to live. Wise choice.
I adjusted the sleeve of my dress.
Unlike the mage's earlier disaster, my clothing was appropriate from the beginning. A simple dress. Comfortable enough to move in. Elegant enough for public appearance. Modest enough that teachers would not faint and other parents would have no excuse to stare too long.
The girls had helped choose it last night.
Hikari said it made me look like "pretty Mama from anime."
Karin said it was "not armor, but still intimidating."
Ruri said it suited me.
Their combined judgment had been acceptable.
Ren looked at me for slightly too long.
I noticed.
He immediately looked away.
"School waits for no one," I said. "Everyone, let's go."
The girls gathered their things.
Ruri whispered to Ren as we moved toward the entrance, but I heard her clearly.
"Papa, Mama is so pretty."
Ren sighed softly.
"Yeah. Pretty..."
He paused.
Then added under his breath, "Pretty scary."
"Mage."
He stiffened.
"I said pretty."
"You added unnecessary commentary."
"I mumbled."
"Poorly."
He raised both hands.
"Noted."
I collected the food containers I had prepared for Family Day. A proper spread. Not excessive, though the mage would disagree because his financial instincts had been traumatized by grocery shopping. Rice balls shaped carefully for Hikari, seasoned chicken for Karin, gentle side dishes for Ruri, fruit, sandwiches, and enough extra food because school events attracted unexpected mouths.
I lifted Hikari into my arms because she reached for me before I could pretend not to notice. With my other hand, I held Karin's hand. Karin held Ruri's hand.
A proper formation.
Ren looked at us.
"Battle formation?"
"Family formation," I corrected.
Karin grinned. "Family battle formation."
I considered this.
"Acceptable."
Ren sighed.
"Why do I even try?"
"You do not try enough," I said.
"That was rhetorical."
"It was weak."
We drove to school.
The car was noisier than yesterday.
Better.
Hikari talked about introducing me to everyone. Karin asked whether talents could include "controlled acrobatics." Ruri reviewed the activity schedule like a small event coordinator. Ren drove with the tired expression of a man who expected another door repair invoice to appear from the sky.
I sat in the passenger seat with the food containers secured at my feet and watched the school grow closer.
The building looked different today.
Yesterday, it had been a battlefield.
Today, colorful banners hung near the entrance. Parents entered in groups. Children pulled adults by the hand. Teachers smiled with the nervous optimism of people hoping no Demon Queen would damage property twice in one week.
Reasonable fear.
We parked.
Ren looked at me before getting out.
"No kicking doors today."
I gave him a calm look.
"No one has earned it yet."
"That is not reassuring."
"It is conditional peace."
"I'll take it."
We entered the school grounds together.
I felt the attention immediately.
Some parents looked at me with curiosity. Some recognized us from yesterday's incident, or at least recognized Ren from the aftermath. A few teachers straightened unconsciously when they saw me.
Good.
Awareness was healthy.
Hikari wriggled in my arms until I set her down, then immediately grabbed my hand.
"Mama, come!"
She dragged me toward her classroom with surprising determination.
Ren followed with the food, Ruri, and Karin.
The classroom had been arranged for Family Day. Desks pushed aside, mats spread in one area, a display board decorated with drawings. Children moved around with parents, grandparents, siblings, and guardians. The air smelled of crayons, food, and the peculiar nervousness of adults trying to appear cheerful in a school environment.
Hikari pulled me to the first classmate she saw.
"This is Mama!"
The child stared up at me.
I looked down.
Small. Round face. Holding a paper crown.
"Hello," I said.
The child hid slightly behind his mother.
Hikari beamed. "Mama is pretty."
The mother laughed nervously. "Yes, she is."
"Accurately pretty," Hikari added.
Ren made a quiet choking sound behind me.
I ignored him.
Hikari dragged me to another child.
"This is Mama!"
Then another.
"This is Mama!"
And another.
"This is Mama! Mama can make sparkle dragons, but not fire indoors."
Several children gasped.
Karin, hearing this, immediately joined.
"Mama kicked a door yesterday."
"Karin," Ren said.
"What? She did."
A nearby teacher looked like her soul almost left.
I gave her a measured glance.
She bowed slightly.
Excellent.
Then the parents from yesterday approached.
I recognized them from the principal's follow-up message. Two sets. Nervous. Properly dressed. Their children stood between them, heads lowered.
The first mother bowed deeply.
"Mrs. Arclight, Mr. Arclight... We are deeply sorry. Our son said something very hurtful yesterday. We spoke with him at home, and he understands he was wrong."
Mrs. Arclight.
The title landed strangely.
Not unpleasant.
Not pleasant either.
Heavy.
Like a cloak placed over my shoulders before I had decided whether to wear it.
Ren glanced at me.
I kept my expression composed.
The father beside her bowed too.
"We apologize. It was careless and cruel, even if he did not understand the full meaning."
The second family apologized as well.
Their child, a small boy with watery eyes, stepped forward.
"I'm sorry," he said, voice shaking. "I shouldn't have said you weren't loved."
Another child beside him bowed.
"I'm sorry too. My mom said families can be different and still love each other."
Hikari held my hand tighter.
Karin looked like she wanted to evaluate whether the apology met standards.
Ruri stepped forward first.
"Thank you for apologizing."
The small boy looked up.
"You forgive me?"
Ruri looked at her sisters.
Karin crossed her arms.
Hikari blinked, then nodded slowly.
"Hikari forgives. But don't say Hikari is not loved again."
"I won't."
Karin pointed at him.
"And don't make Ruri cry."
The boy flinched.
"I won't."
"And don't make me almost cry."
Ren sighed softly.
"Karin."
"What? I'm setting terms."
I approved.
Not aloud.
Ruri smiled gently.
"We are classmates. Classmates can be friends if we are kind."
Hikari nodded. "Friends should not make hearts ouchie."
The apologizing children nodded quickly.
I looked at the parents.
"It is fine."
They visibly relaxed.
I continued, "But it had better be the last time."
They froze again.
Good.
I let the silence sit for exactly long enough.
Then added, "Children learn from correction. Adults are responsible for ensuring correction happens before ignorance becomes cruelty."
The first mother bowed again.
"Yes. You're absolutely right."
Ren leaned slightly toward me and murmured, "That was almost merciful."
I did not look at him.
"I am merciful."
"You threatened them with grammar."
"I threatened them with accountability."
"Terrifying."
"Correct."
The teacher clapped her hands soon after, perhaps to rescue the room from my presence.
"Everyone, thank you for coming to Family Day. We'll begin with family introductions. Each child can introduce who came with them today, and after that, we'll have a small talent-sharing activity."
The children cheered.
Karin perked up dangerously.
Ren immediately looked at her.
"No backflips."
Karin looked betrayed.
The introductions began.
One child introduced his mother and grandmother. Another introduced his father and older brother. A girl introduced both parents and a baby sister who appeared deeply uninterested in being introduced. There were small laughs, claps, and occasional shy voices.
Then it was our turn.
The teacher smiled carefully.
"Ruri, Karin, Hikari, would you like to introduce your family?"
The three girls stood together.
Ren and I stood behind them.
I could feel his nervousness.
Not fear.
Something softer.
He wanted this to go well for them.
So did I.
Ruri began first, because of course she did.
"My name is Ruri Arclight. This is my Papa, Ren Arclight."
Ren gave a small wave.
"Hello."
Karin stepped forward next. "Papa is strong, but lazy."
The classroom laughed.
Ren closed his eyes briefly.
I approved of the accuracy.
Hikari waved both hands.
"Papa makes food and drives Fluffy."
A child raised a hand. "Who is Fluffy?"
"Our car," Hikari said proudly.
More laughter.
Ren looked like he wanted the floor to open.
Good.
Ruri continued, cheeks slightly pink but voice steady.
"This is our Mama, Ria Arclight."
The room clapped.
I stood still.
Ria Arclight.
The name still felt strange.
But when Hikari looked back at me with a smile, it became easier to tolerate.
Karin added, "Mama is beautiful and scary."
The teacher's smile strained.
Hikari nodded seriously. "Mama is accurately pretty."
A few parents laughed.
I lifted my chin and accepted the praise with dignity.
Ren muttered, "Accurately pretty is going to stick."
I heard him.
I allowed him to survive.
Ruri spoke again.
"We also have Auntie Ruruka. She is Papa's sister and very strong."
Karin added, "She has a sword."
The teacher blinked.
Hikari said, "And Mr. Guild Master Uncle."
Ren stiffened.
I turned my head slowly.
Mr. Guild Master Uncle?
Ren whispered, "Aaron is going to kill me."
Karin corrected Hikari. "He's not uncle. He's guild master uncle."
"That is worse," Ren muttered.
The other children gasped with admiration.
"Your uncle is a guild master?"
"Your aunt has a sword?"
"Your mama kicked a door?"
"Your papa has a cool car?"
The classroom's perception of our family rose rapidly and for questionable reasons.
I stood proudly anyway.
My daughters were no longer being pitied.
They were being admired.
That was acceptable.
After introductions, the talent portion began.
Ruri went first among the girls.
She held a small paper in both hands and stood at the front of the classroom. Her voice was quiet, but clear.
"My talent is poetry."
The room settled.
Ren stood beside me, very still.
Ruri began reading.
Her voice was soft, but steady.
"In our house, the lights are warm,
and mornings feel nice when we wake up.
We laugh a lot and run around,
and it feels good to be there.
Papa comes home every day,
and he talks and plays with us.
My sisters laugh with me,
and that makes me happy.
When it gets dark,
someone stays with us so we're not scared.
She stands close,
and we feel safe.
Our home is a place
where we are together."
The room stayed silent for a heartbeat after she finished.
Then the applause came.
Warm.
Sincere.
Ren looked away for a moment.
I pretended not to notice.
Ruri returned to us, and I placed a hand on her head.
"Well done."
Her smile could have made weaker beings cry.
I did not cry.
Naturally.
Karin went next.
She walked to the front with far too much confidence.
"My talent is backflip."
"No," Ren said immediately.
Karin froze mid-preparation.
The entire room laughed.
"Papa!"
"No backflips."
"But it's talent time!"
"Not skull damage time."
"I practiced."
"When?"
"At home."
Ren slowly turned toward me.
I shook my head.
"Do not look at me. I forbade it."
He turned back to Karin.
"Dance."
Karin crossed her arms.
"That's less cool."
"Still has bones afterward."
The teacher smiled nervously. "A dance would be lovely, Karin."
Karin sighed like a warrior denied glory, then performed a lively little dance instead. It was energetic, slightly chaotic, and included two movements that looked suspiciously like combat footwork.
The children loved it.
Karin bowed dramatically when she finished.
"Battle dance," she declared.
Ren whispered, "Of course."
Then came Hikari.
She walked to the front, then stopped.
Her eyes moved to me.
I felt danger.
Not physical danger.
Worse.
Emotional danger.
"Hikari's talent is singing."
The teacher smiled. "Wonderful."
Hikari held her hands together.
"But Hikari wants to sing with Mama."
Every eye turned to me.
I stared at her.
No.
Absolutely not.
I had faced armies.
I had commanded legions.
I had stood beneath burning skies and broken kingdoms beneath my authority.
I did not sing in front of classrooms.
"Hikari," I began carefully, "Mama is not prepared."
Hikari looked at me with hopeful eyes.
The full force.
Wide.
Bright.
Trusting.
Cruel.
Ren made a small sound beside me.
I looked at him.
He was grinning.
Quietly.
Dangerously.
If I had not been surrounded by children, I would have harmed him.
"Mama?" Hikari asked.
I closed my eyes.
Defeat.
Again.
"Very well."
Hikari's face lit up like a spell.
She ran back, grabbed my hand, and pulled me toward the front. The room watched with smiling interest. I ignored every adult in it and focused only on Hikari, because that was the only way this humiliation could be reframed as duty.
"What are we singing?" I asked.
Hikari whispered, "Memories."
Ah.
The song from the pirate illusion.
Their favorite.
The soft one.
The one Hikari liked because she said it sounded like "sailing with family."
I exhaled.
"Fine."
Ren's grin widened.
I pointed at him without looking.
"Do not."
He lifted both hands.
"I didn't say anything."
"You breathed with mockery."
"I was breathing with support."
"Liar."
The teacher played the instrumental version from her tablet after Hikari requested it. The melody began softly.
Hikari held my hand.
Then she sang.
"Chisana koro ni wa takara no chizu ga... Atama no naka ni ukandeite..."
Her voice was small, sweet, and slightly off in places, but sincere enough that imperfections became irrelevant. She looked up at me halfway through the first line, waiting.
"...Itsudemo sagashita kiseki no basho o..."
So I joined.
Quietly at first.
"...Shiranai dareka ni makenai you ni..."
Then steadier.
The room changed.
Children stopped fidgeting. Parents smiled. Even the teacher looked surprised.
I had not sung in years.
Not like this.
Not without command behind it. Not as ritual. Not as war chant. Not as victory song after battle.
This was different.
This was standing in a classroom beside a child who called me Mama, singing a song from an anime about memories, dreams, and sailing forward.
Absurd.
Ridiculous.
Unbecoming.
Warm.
Hikari squeezed my hand as we reached the chorus.
"Moshi mo sekai ga kawaru no nara... Nanimo shiranai koro no watashi ni..."
I adjusted my voice to match hers.
"...Tsurete itte omoide ga... Iro asenai you ni..."
Not overpowering.
Supporting.
The way one supports a small flame from wind.
By the time the song ended, the room erupted in applause.
Children cheered.
Hikari beamed.
Ren clapped the loudest.
Of course he did.
He even looked proud.
I glared at him.
He clapped harder.
I would remember that.
Hikari hugged my waist at the front of the room.
"Mama sang with Hikari."
"Yes."
"Hikari is happy."
"...Good."
The applause continued a little longer than necessary.
I accepted it with dignity.
Mostly.
After the classroom activities ended, families moved outside for lunch under the trees within the school grounds. The weather was pleasant. Sunlight fell through the leaves in shifting patches, and the schoolyard buzzed with children showing parents crafts, comparing food, and forming temporary alliances over snacks.
We chose a spot beneath a large tree.
Ren spread the mat. Ruri helped arrange the containers. Karin guarded the crunchy food from imaginary invaders. Hikari sat beside me, still humming the song softly.
I unpacked the lunch.
The girls' eyes brightened immediately.
"Hikari's favorite rice balls!"
"My chicken!"
Ruri smiled. "You packed the crackers too."
"Yes," I said. "Eat properly."
Ren sat across from me with a bottle of tea and the expression of a man trying not to grin too obviously.
I narrowed my eyes.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You are smiling."
"Family Day is going well."
"That is not all."
"It's nice seeing Mama Duties in action."
The chopsticks in my hand paused.
"Do not say that."
"Why? It's accurate."
"I will burn you to crisps."
"Karin, Mama threatened me."
Karin looked up from her food.
"Papa probably deserved it."
Ren placed a hand over his chest.
"Betrayed by my own daughter."
Hikari leaned against my side.
"Mama sang pretty."
Ren nodded. "Mama did sing pretty."
I glared.
He smiled.
Lazy.
Infuriating.
Alive only because the children were present.
Ruri picked up a piece of fruit and looked at me.
"Thank you for today, Mama."
The threat inside me dissolved.
I looked at her.
"For what?"
"For coming."
Karin nodded with her mouth full, then swallowed after Ruri looked at her.
"And for making Papa dress better."
Ren sighed.
"That part again?"
Hikari added, "Papa looks proper spouse."
Ren choked on tea.
I looked away.
The children laughed.
Even Ruri.
Especially Ruri.
Ren coughed once and wiped his mouth.
"That phrase is banned."
"It is accurate," I said.
He pointed at me.
"You started it."
"And?"
"You can unstart it."
"No."
"Merciless."
"Correct."
The girls ate happily.
That was what mattered.
Hikari's earlier fear was gone. Karin's anger had turned into pride. Ruri's quiet worry had softened into something peaceful. The children from yesterday had apologized. The classroom had admired them instead of pitying them. Their family had been introduced with no blank space left undefended.
It was...
Worth it.
I realized I had thought the words when Ren looked at me.
He was watching.
Again.
With that tired, irritating, gentle expression that made him look less like a mage who sealed calamities and more like a man quietly grateful for a normal lunch under a tree.
I clicked my tongue.
"What now, Mage?"
"You look satisfied."
"I am assessing the event."
"Worth it?"
I looked at the girls.
Hikari humming.
Karin eating proudly.
Ruri smiling.
Then I looked away.
"Worth it, I guess."
Ren's grin appeared.
Slow.
Unbearable.
I pointed my chopsticks at him.
"Stop it, Mage. I'll burn you to crisps."
"With fifteen percent?"
"I will make it sufficient."
He chuckled.
Not mocking.
Just... warm.
"Hikari," he said, "Mama is scary."
Hikari hugged my arm.
"Mama is pretty scary."
Karin nodded. "And cool."
Ruri smiled.
"And kind."
I had no response to that.
None that would preserve dignity.
So I picked up a rice ball and placed it on Hikari's plate.
"Eat."
"Yes, Mama."
The afternoon wind moved gently through the tree branches above us.
The schoolyard remained noisy.
The mage remained irritating.
The children remained close.
And for reasons I refused to examine too deeply, I found myself hoping the day would stretch a little longer before we had to go home.
Not because I enjoyed Family Day.
Obviously not.
I merely wished to ensure the event concluded properly.
That was all.
The mage looked at me again.
I glared.
He wisely looked away.
Good.
He was learning.
Slowly.
*****
End of Chapter 37
Arclight Parenting Status:
Parents:
Ren Arclight — Retired Archmage / Full-Time Dragon Dad
Ria Arclight — Former Demon Queen / Full-Time Dragon Mom (Still Denying Everything)
Current Family Objective:
Successfully survive Family Day
Prevent Karin from weaponizing school events
Preserve household dignity (Mission Failed)
Children Under Protection:
Ruri — Ice / Emotional Support / Poetry Specialist
Karin — Fire / Chaos / Certified "Battle Cute"
Hikari — Light / Reality Risk / Ambassador of "Accurately Pretty"
Today's Activities:
Forced Ren into socially acceptable clothing
Upgraded three daughters to maximum cuteness
Successfully attended Family Day
Publicly introduced the Arclight family
Accepted multiple apologies from classmates
Supported children's classroom activities
Ria performed first public duet with Hikari
Completed Family Day lunch without property damage
Maintained temporary peace among parents
New Developments:
Ria instinctively referred to the girls as "my daughters"
"Mrs. Arclight" officially entered public vocabulary
Ren promoted from "Lazy Papa" to "Proper Spouse"
Children proudly introduced both parents together
Family reputation shifted from "pitiful" to "admired"
Hikari's phrase "Accurately Pretty" officially became household canon
Household Status:
United
Publicly Recognized
Emotionally Thriving
Parents Stress Levels:
Ren
Well Dressed
Mildly Embarrassed
Constantly Teased
Ria
Elegant
Tsundere
Secretly Happy
Parenting Skill Growth:
Ren: 61.4% (Proud Father Bonus Applied)
Ria: 46.2% (Mama Duties Activated)
Family Synergy: 57.8% (First Official Family Event Cleared)
Current Parents Status:
Ren
Active
Proud
Officially "Proper Spouse"
Ria
Active
Protective
"Accurately Pretty"
Immediate Priorities:
Continue building happy childhood memories
Prevent Karin from demonstrating backflips indoors
Protect Hikari from unlimited curiosity
Support Ruri's quiet emotional growth
Teach Ren how to coordinate children's outfits
Pretend today's compliments meant nothing
Operational Assessment:
Mission Type:
Family Day + Public Family Integration
Difficulty:
Social Interaction
Emotional Status:
Ren
Content - Proud - Thoroughly Outnumbered
Ria
Satisfied -Flustered • In Complete Denial
Future Outlook:
Public Reputation IncreasingChildren Growing More Confident"Mama" Usage Permanently EstablishedRen's Wardrobe Under Permanent SupervisionTsundere Symptoms Progressing Rapidly
Parents Personal Statement:
Ren:
"I am actively avoiding wrong ideas."
Ria:
"No daughter of mine will be less cute than possible."
Reality's Response:
"The Demon Queen came to supervise a school event... and somehow left with three daughters, one proper spouse, and an entire classroom convinced she was the coolest mom in attendance."