Ch.31Family (3)

*

Ms. Sylvia has been acting strange lately.

It’s not that she’s never done odd things before, like sniffing my blanket or burying her nose in the nape of my neck.

But until now, I’d simply dismissed it, thinking she was just fixated on human scent and traces because she’d spent so much time alone.

When I say “she’s acting strange,” I mean she’s started showing peculiar behaviors that differ from her usual self.

How should I put it? Her attitude toward me has been twisting in increasingly bizarre ways.

Fortunately, she’s not hitting me or showing any violent tendencies.

Quite the opposite, actually.

Since the day I passed her test, she’s become kinder and more attentive toward me.

One might wonder what’s wrong with that, but Ms. Sylvia’s attitude feels like…

Like a young mother caring for her newborn baby.

“Today, I’ll cook for you… Eek!”

Cooking is supposed to be my job, but she keeps insisting on doing it despite not being very good at it.

“…Huh? Why did it burn like this? Ah, but I’ll still do the plating!”

After burning the food to a crisp, she stubbornly insists on at least serving it herself.

“Hehe, doesn’t it look delicious? Eat up, dear.”

Then she tells me to enjoy the meal as if she made it herself.

“Ash? Come on, say ‘aah.’ Hurry, my arm is getting tired.”

She’ll scoop up a spoonful, blow on it gently, and try to feed me.

“Hey Ash… isn’t it difficult to wash yourself alone?”

She’ll quietly follow me to the river when I’m bathing and offer to wash my back.

And the worst thing that’s happened so far was a few nights ago when she forcibly made me lie down, saying she would rub my stomach until I fell asleep.

“Now, Ash… let’s go to sleeeep.”

“No, why are you doing this? Please stop.”

I didn’t feel this creeped out even when she was openly emanating killing intent.

Only after I desperately begged her to stop did she finally return to her room, her face full of disappointment.

That night, I went to bed trembling with fear.

What is this?

What on earth is going on?

No, seriously, what is happening?

Does she want to pretend to be a mother?

Actually, her behavior feels less like a “mother” and more like some kind of “mama” role.

It feels like… some kind of roleplay.

Perhaps seeing a poor orphaned boy working hard to grow stronger through training has awakened some sort of maternal instinct in her?

If that’s the case, even though the result is a complete disaster, her intention is quite touching.

But the problem is that there are many obstacles preventing me from feeling any maternal connection to her.

First of all, setting aside how clumsy and sloppy her actions are to the point of being incomprehensible, there’s only a four or five-year age gap between us.

Moreover, her prominently feminine chest and hips, her toned physique showcasing her health, and her sticky, bright red gaze are all problematic.

Ms. Sylvia has an incredibly sensual and attractive silhouette for someone trying to be a mother figure.

As a result, her bizarre motherly act feels more like a “secret service for adults with peculiar tastes” that might be operated in the depths of a red-light district.

Whenever she tries to do something, the space fills with perverted, deviant discomfort rather than the warmth of a comfortable home.

It’s different from the mischievous pranks she played that night when we slept side by side after being chased by a bear.

When she teased me by revealing her naked body to my embarrassed self, she wasn’t awkward but rather confident.

She was sexually attractive, but she wasn’t trying to stimulate such twisted fetishes.

Above all, the current situation isn’t just a temporary prank lasting one night like before.

Her creepy mother play has continued for five days since the test.

And surprisingly,

There were even more reasons why I found her strange.

*

The day before yesterday, it rained all day with thunder and lightning.

Thanks to the rain that had been falling since noon, I spent the entire day with her in the cabin, and sure enough, this uncomfortable mother… no, “mama” play continued.

I suddenly remembered Ms. Sylvia strangling my neck in her sleep.

I’m not sure why, but I almost wanted to strangle myself too.

When night fell, I hurriedly went to bed to avoid her.

After some time had passed, she suddenly woke me up as I was sleeping in the living room.

“Ash, um… Ash. Wake up.”

“…Ms. Sylvia? What’s wrong?”

“Ah, hehe.”

Hehe?

What’s with that laugh?

Having repeatedly experienced Ms. Sylvia’s bizarre dual personality over the past few days, I couldn’t hide my fear at her sudden change in attitude and became extremely wary.

Hugging a pillow large enough to cover her face, she blushed and tugged at the end of my sleeve, whispering:

“I’m scared… can I sleep with you?”

“…No, what are you talking about?”

I looked at her with an incredulous expression.

Afraid of thunder and lightning?

The vanguard and leader of the Demon Lord’s subjugation force who had to push forward through all kinds of rough terrain and bad weather?

Who had to camp and move forward day by day regardless of how harsh the environment was?

If that were true, it would be utterly ridiculous.

If the Demon Lord had only used lightning magic, humanity might have already been extinct.

She was generally large in build.

Her height was almost the same as mine, a man, and her shoulders were even broader than mine.

Her arms and legs were long and straight, with firm lean muscles, and her waist was slim yet toned with abs, giving her an appearance that felt “cool.”

If she didn’t have full breasts and wide hips, she might have looked like an incredibly handsome man.

Of course, she was also very attractive as a woman.

The point is, she looks very strong and actually is tremendously powerful.

She’s definitely not someone who would be afraid of thunder and lightning.

In fact, if someone told me that Sylvia had survived being struck by lightning directly, I might just accept it without question.

But now, with her large frame and those long, firm arms strangling a pillow, she was asking to sleep beside me.

Not saying something like, “If you don’t sleep with me, I’ll crush your body like this pillow.”

“I’m scared of thunder sounds…”

She was telling such an obvious lie.

As if to highlight my confusion, the sound of a large lightning strike boomed at that moment.

And she didn’t even blink.

Though she’d been making a sad face claiming to be scared, she didn’t even pretend to be startled by the lightning.

If you’re going to lie, at least put some effort into it.

It seemed that while acting as a “girl scared of thunder,” she couldn’t even hear the actual thunder.

I rubbed my eyes and asked:

“No… why are you doing this?”

“Because I’m scared, Ash. Can’t we… sleep together?”

“…Why?”

“I told you… because I’m scared.”

“…No, what’s the real reason?”

“…Don’t I look scared?”

“Not at all.”

“…Why not?”

She clicked her tongue, scratched her head, and went back to her room.

What is it, really?

First pretending to be a mother, and now pretending to be a child?

Setting aside how bizarre her proposal and the setup for it were, it was difficult to play along when the setup kept changing so drastically.

I slowly closed my eyes only after watching her disappear into her room as if being sucked in.

*

Today, Ms. Sylvia went hunting, so I was peacefully tending to the cemetery and Laila’s grave.

I dusted off the tombstone and pulled out the weeds growing on the soil where traces of fresh covering had already disappeared.

After pulling out the last visible weed, I plopped down in front of the grave and muttered a small complaint:

“Laila, Ms. Sylvia has been a bit strange lately.”

No, I should correct myself.

“Well, more than a bit…”

Though I knew there would be no answer, I still shared everything that had happened with my sister who was resting here.

Would Laila have laughed cheerfully?

A gentle breeze blew by, rustling the grass.

I nodded and continued:

“It’s funny, right? But your brother is actually quite serious about this. I don’t understand why Ms. Sylvia is acting this way. It’s like… she’s trying to act like a parent sometimes, and then suddenly trying to act like a child…”

Her hugging a pillow and begging to sleep together.

It was different from her usual behavior of emphasizing maternal love.

Rather, it seemed closer to pretending to be a child who would evoke protective instincts.

Of course, it was a role that suited Ms. Sylvia even less than the mother role.

Besides, I knew a girl who would have been perfect for such behavior.

Certainly, Laila used to be afraid of lightning like that…

Wait a minute.

Could it be?

I suddenly realized.

Waking me up because she was afraid of lightning.

That was exactly what Laila used to do when we were young.

Come to think of it, I had once told Ms. Sylvia about how I often slept with Laila because she was afraid of thunder.

I looked at Laila’s tombstone and muttered:

“Is she trying to imitate my little sister?”

.