Ch 119: Past bedtime

Good news. Our territory found a new dungeon spot?

Bad news. What the-.... our territory found a new dungeon spot?! Already?!

No no no, not some shallow little den or a mysterious zone of death. Not even a crack of magical interference, spawning unholy monsters and plants in the deep dark forests. This was a legit hole in the road? A deep one? The one?

To make matters even worse it was my parents who discovered it?! Accidently mind you. But what the hell?

The truth of the situation was finally revealed to the light, and it made one of my cute little minions pout for a good half a day.

"I told you." Amar sulked, arms crossed.

For a known liar he doesn't really like being called one. Ah, but it can't be helped. Kids are very sensitive about being wrongly accused.

"There there, good boy, telling the truth this time. Very good spying minion. Keep it up Don't sulk. Have some fruit and nuts." I wave a treat as comfort.

It is not very effective, even if he still opens up and eats it. Still pouting. Still very cute though. The late-night snack is probably too healthy and not enough sugar for him. Which is bad for our teeth? Bad minion, eat more healthy normal foods and less snacks and sweets.

Kids are just so darn picky.

"I wanna go! That would be so cool. We should go. We should go explore it! Is it near the camp or Rosa's house? Whoa! So cool. So cool we get more monsters to fight and thingies to find and practice because my sidekicks are sometimes really weak. Sometimes Amar is ok but noooooowhere as awesome as me and Rosa's even stupid weaker-"

At once two separate pairs of small hands stuff Lukas's mouth with different goodies. It's open so wide that it all fits, score. The chattering blonde happily chomped down on whatever combo of healthy dessert fruits we just threw in there and continue throwing in there.

It's a bad game of how much we can fit in to shut him up.

Huh just how much food can fit in there? It shouldn't be physically possible for a child's mochi cheeks to stretch this much. But Lukas is a black hole that I'm not sure how anyone ever missed a lifetime ago. What a waste. How fascinating.

"Hey, Amar do you think we can fit a melon in-"

Wait I'm getting distracted from the very important point here!

"Hahaha alright kiddos, get to cleaning up for bed before Gable catches you." my grampa lifts the platter away.

"But grampa...I-"

"Go go go before Gable catches me" the old man shoos at us, sliding the rest of the snacks down his own fat face while constantly looking over his shoulder.

As if Gable was already there, disapprovingly tapping his foot, or worse, his wand. I've never personally seen what's the big deal, but from the way Lukas and my own big bad grampa fall over themselves to avoid it, I'd say it's bad.

While I personally don't want to find out just what bad consists of, this sort of truth bomb needs follow-up. Detail. More importantly future spoilers from the worse sort of cheat, me.

That dungeon....wasn't supposed to be discovered for years, and most certainly not where it was reported. A terror of hollow earth, terrible pests, and the sought after natural resources. Even more unsavory adventurers and desperate fortune seekers would make their way to Ventrella lands to try their luck.

Why is it getting found so early now? Why is it in the wrong spot? Everything is all wrong.

"Okay. Come on." Amar pushes me, pulling along a still chewing Lukas and me. 

"But-"

"It's ok. We just need to get rid of the evidence first. You can go back and sleep with your grampa tonight."

"What?!"

As I scream, Grampa abruptly chokes. Swallowing down the snuck stolen snack, he drops the platter with sparkling eyes. The same evil sparkling eyes that he makes before sudden surprise trips to hellish 'adventures' or when he's about to bother Gable over something very very stupid.

Said stupid cow eyes are lasered in on poor little me.

"Cap? Rosa's feeling too lonely without her mama and papa. She can't say it right but she wants to be with you more tonight."

"What?! No no no that's not what I said, ever! I didn't even think it out loud? You brain damaged little-"

"Awwww does my little granddaughter miss her family so much!!?! Never fear Frampapa' is here!"

"Eeeeeeeeeep!"

Suddenly I'm being spun and thrown in the air. Grampa's too-strong arms abusing tiny little body with those infamous too-tight hugs. The kind mother obviously took it after. Air! I need air! Ohh I shouldn't have had that last piece of fruit and cheese.

On the floor, a full chipmunk-cheeked Lukas starts pounding at Grampa's leg. Demanding a death hug of his own, rather than any noble intentions. Something that Grampa quickly obliges to, picking up the other child with one hand.

Ooompf, he's squishy. Too much spinning and hugs, Too little space. I'm going to die.

"But we have to brush our teeth first?"

"Oh! Right! What a good big brother you are Amar! Rooosa~ Luuuukas, clean up like good children! I will handle it here so Gable will never find out, and come for you soon!" the crazy old man finally frees us from the dizzying ride, ruffling Amar's head and shooing us off.

Bumping along with an equally disoriented minion, why do I get the feeling that I've been set up? A trap, it was a trap. Ahh so dizzy.

The world still slightly spins even as I'm led into the bathroom and up the stool, a pasty toothbrush stuffed into my mouth.

Ack. Bleck.

"I can brush myself!" I spit.

Then proceed to drown my own minions in the sink with their own toothbrushes. Kids are just so messy and careless. It's quite tough babysitting these two. Especially since they're losing their baby teeth.

Surprisingly it's Amar that lost his first, not just one but two. Yeah that's something magic isn't going to heal back.

"Open up! You eat too much candy, brush your teeth more carefully. Lukas, hold him down."

"Open open open! Cool, it's like a big hole! In your mouth! I eat lots but mine still won't fall out. Why are you first? That's not fair because I'm bigger. But Gable says if I pull it out before it's ready he'll stick it back in and that sounds like it will hurt more. "

"...It's really hard to eat like this. I rather get hit." Amar shyly closes his mouth from our stares, covering up those adorable baby teeth gaps.

I smack the kid with a toothbrush.

"...Not like that?"

"You can eat candy and sweets just fine. Don't think I don't know about the secret stash."

"Why do we call it a secret stash when it's not a secret, Oh I know because it's a secret to everyone but us! Wow, I'm awesome smart! I like the secret when it's yummy but sometimes it hurts and that's not so yummy! Oh, it's a trick!"

The only reason why Lukas and I don't confiscate and eat up all the secret stash is that it's too dangerous. Like a game of Russian roulette. You don't know if you're getting a good safe tasty candy or a horrible experiment. From puffed-up lips to instantly falling asleep, you never know what you'll get. One of them even makes you grow hair alarmingly fast?

It's quite funny getting Grampa to eat them though. Princess Grampa's hair was as fun as it was horrible. Lasted a little over two days before Gable held him down by force and burned it back to normal.

The variety of effects has really gone up since Gable started encouraging Amar to make even worse candies beyond what I shall name 'shut up' and 'sleepy'. I have a bad feeling about these candies traps. That's a lot of pranking potential and pure danger in the wrong hands.

More importantly, how do I make money off this? Sleeping pills? Hair tonic? Refrigeration ice stones?!

But the matter of exploiting my minions for profit is for another time. I really do need to get back and pull grampa's ear off about that dungeon.

That's not supposed to happen just yet?!

"No fair I wanna sleep with Cap and Gable tonight." Lukas whines, getting completely naked before changing into his pajamas.

Modesty does not exist below a certain age apparently. No such thing as shame when the worse of it is already out of the way. While I sigh, I make no fuss about changing or bathing together after all this time, especially when it's grampa or Gable throwing us all in together. I swear they see us as little vegetables or something.

"I'm not sleeping over! Amar was being a little liar again. Hey wait, one or the other, you can't crawl in with both Gable and my grampa."

"I never lied?" pipes up Amar, pouting again.

"Yes, I can! I already have lots of times!" Lukas argues.

"Don't be ridiculous." I roll my eyes at the boys, patting their cheeks with lotion.

Honestly, they're more challenging to deal with than my own sister, the drama-filled protagonist, at this stage. At least they're cute. So squishy too. Good minions, eat lots and grow lots. So I can use you all to your full potential of course. Otherwise you two cost too much to feed and repair damages. Oh, I'm just so evil, oh ho ho ho.

"...Rosa...you're talking weird again? Ow, my cheeks."

"I have! Lots and lots in their bed. I can have both of them!"

"They don't share a bed you fool." I finish up.

Pat pat, keep that mochi skin soft and cute. Gotta keep you two ready as bait in case mother comes back.

"Uh huh yes they do! "

"Why would they? That makes no sense, they can afford more beds!"

"Because it's more fun that way! Duh!"

"They're adults Lukas. Adults don't share beds."

"Camp"

"This is a house! Camping is not every day."

"Noooo, mamas and da' do!"

"Those are parents! They're married! "

"Same thing!"

"No Lukas. No, it's not!"

Amar yawns at our antics. All finished with changing, he tugs both of us along each by the hand as Lukas talks nonsense. Like the good big brother I refuse to call him, he knocks on the door to the adults' quarters, where they certainly do not share a bed, and slides me through like a delivery package.

"Here's your grampa Rosa. Night night. Don't worry, your mama and papa are strong. And you don't have to lie so much? You don't need to."

"Me?! I don't lie like-"

But the door closes against my butt after one last head pat and push. Ow, watch it. This toddler body is sensitive. Beyond the door Lukas's voice still babblers on, trying to convince anyone, even Amar, about his crazy stories.

Raising minions from scratch is a lot harder than expected.

I would slump to the floor dramatically at the thought of all that's going wrong so far. But I can afford better than that. Just as I was about to slump over a pile of cushions on the nearby settee, the drawing board distracts me.

Really, it's just a big chalkboard. A little out of place in a farmhouse but not in the troops or my own villa. This isn't exactly the average farmhouse anyways.

It's a fake. With a lot more hiding on the inside.

How fitting for who lives inside.

On the board is a messily drawn map. Utter nonsense to someone else unused to grampa's handwriting. I can see the identification marks trying to map out the known area, already explored in this newly found dungeon.

And I hate it.

"Pumpkin!!!"

At this rate, I expect to be so trained that even a sudden tornado could not kill me. For a Ventrella adult is a force of nature enough. Ack, this beard face stings. Gable help! Come and burn off his face.

"Grampa put me down already, I have information for you." I smack at the crazy old man, more to let out my own frustration than to any effect on him. It's like hitting a solid cow, only I'd feel less bad about animal abuse. Elderly abuse doesn't count here.

"Oh? What does my wittly itty bitty-"

"Reincarnator club time! Put away the stupid face and take me seriously for a minute. Ah ...is anyone listening in right now?"

With a dopey smile still ever present on his dumb face, grampa nonchalantly taps the door. Electricity zapped over the room from that point, blooming itself in branches.

"There wasn't, but now there certainly won't be."

"Not even any secret guards?"

Grampa gives me a raised brow sort of look, and I must admit dumb question. No one is allowed through the barrier without notice, and I don't think any more guards, Father's men or no, can get through something locked off by both grampa and Gable. Especially when it regards their privacy, something they're both notoriously known for in different ways.

It's not that I've forgotten, it's just....I've literally been living with them?

Gable has his hermit reclusiveness but grampa is especially bad for being a celebrity. Or perhaps it's because of that fame, that he's actually so secretive. Showing only certain awfully silly sides to those who know him, and the widespread persona beyond that of an almost make-believe hero. It's impossible to refute public perception that long-standing, especially in this slow information sort of world. Maybe he's gone crazy in it all.

No one can predict grampa after all.

"It's too soon. The discovery of this dungeon is happening over 10 years too soon." I set myself back to the topic at hand.

"Is it now?" grampa smiles, setting me down in a cushion.

With a tap, the chalkboard is instantly cleared, except for the outlined map drawn on the side. His tone is still jolly, not entirely serious, yet there's something that makes me gulp. Flight instinct is already activated.

But I can't run away from everything. Otherwise, what's the point of all this? What's the point of these memories, the few cheats I do have?

Everything I do must be for my long-term survival.

"Yes, at least....I was 14? The dungeon wasn't discovered till then, and it's bad news. Well not that bad but-"

"Bad? How so?" the chalk in his hand moves quickly, working out the frame of a chart and timeline. Something visible that I can work with. It reminds me of the whiteboards and big planners at work, well back when I actually went to work.

"What are we expecting beyond?" Grampa lists and actually doodles out simple and surprisingly understandable pictures of some of the magic pests that lay inside the underground dungeon.

Mostly bug types. Spiders with reported size specifications of: too large to not scream and faint over. Paralyzing fuzzy centipedes with poison whiskers and stingers. Annoying screeching owls flapping around places they shouldn't be. Even down to the heat-resistant eels deep down the levels, under pools of miasma and fire. It all makes my eyes raise with panic.

"No- the dungeon is fine, it's all the people that made it....How did you get all this information so fast? It took us half a year of expeditions to reach down to the eel pools?!"

Jumps and leaps of thoughts bombard me. Did grampa already know? Did this man already know about this place years beforehand, and just left it for the rest of us to deal with? Just like he runs away?

"That long? It's been barely a month since Maria crashed in... How about we start with what's actually dangerous down there Rosalia. Your mama and papa are still down there."

"What?! You mean no one's gone down to rescue them yet?!"

"....Pumpkin pie, hmm how do I say this? What would Gable say...ah! Rosalia, I think it's the dungeon and all the innocent creatures down there that need us saving it, from extinction. Not Maria...definitely not Maria, though she does have the tendency to get even more lost. Good thing Freddy is down there to reign her in huh? But don't worry, they'll bring you back lots and lots of pretty presents!"

I feel my tongue getting dry, though that could be remedied if I could close my own jaw. Say what now?

"Grampa....I think I came from a different world?"

"Me too!" he exclaims as if we were sharing what toppings we liked on pizza.

"No no no, grampa listen. In my memory mother is this weak frail ideal little delicate lady who stayed indoors all the time with flowers and embroidery and ladies' tea parties because her health can't take anything more! She's not active, in fact, she's bedridden over most of the winter?! She doesn't...she doesn't lift hammers or go crashing anything but dropped tea cups?!"

Lots of dropped teacups actually. The weight of it was too much for her to handle sometimes she would say. In reality, Mother is actually really clumsy.

At least that part still stayed the same.

"Sounds like when she was weakest and pregnant with you two, so she never recovered?.... I never did like those tiny teacups! So breakable. Oh but all the ladies have to have them Maria would cry so we bought all the little things and...*sigh*.... But that's not what's really bothering you is it, Rosa? They don't line up. Your memories don't comply when you overlap and line them up now, do they Rosalia?" grampa sets down the chalk, walking over to squat down in front of me.

If feels infantizing when a man so huge has to do that to get down to my eye level, even though I'm seated taller.

"No. No they don't and I don't know what to believe anymore? Mama's too weird. You haven't run away yet? And I think papa actually... likes my presence?! It doesn't make sense, and it doesn't even matter where or when. It doesn't because you all weren't even there."

"You can try."

"Try what? Trying everything I can when I'm this weak? Try telling you about Lilyanne!? Where all the problems lie? Because I did! She gets visions, she gets powers. She can heal people and everyone loves her. They love her too much and then they'll eat her up. That's why I died! I know she didn't kill me directly but she did. I died because of her and I lived even worse because of her. "

"Good. Blame her then."

"I don't! She's useless! Not her powers but her! Blaming her does nothing....I still die...I still.... "

"Then blame me."

That giant tanned hand, warm and littered with scars, takes my own little balled up fists. Instead of prying it open, he lets it be, hardly pinching my even smaller wrists to move them like one does a puppet toy. My hands move without my will, lightly smacks at his body, similar to how I would normally hit him anyways.

I hit him with no strength. When I have permission, I have no will to do so.

"Just blame grampapa. Alright?"

I hate how he can still smile through this, through anything. I've always hated that smile. How they make people feel, even me. That false sense of security and hope. I hated it, I hate how I trusted it so much.

You didn't even show up at their funeral.

"You're only one person. How can I blame someone as useless as you?"

But you were smiling with that ugly mug of yours when you whisked Lilyanne and I off early, out of that place and straight back home. Out of sight, away from any prying eyes and whispered rumors under the kiss ass condolences. As if we were actually a part of your secrets to keep, like I ever was.

"They call you a hero over and over again, and I don't even know why. It's so annoying."

I hate it. I hated listening to your empty promises and silly distracting stories. I hated when you cry over the stupidest little things with those big brown eyes yet smile through the worst of it. It's worse than even that girl's because you have an idea of what's going on.

"You're so annoying. Even though I'm really scared of you, of what you're capable of, you're really really annoying."

You're worse than her ignorance. You're worse than mother's indifference or father's silence. You're a liar.

"Rosalia has always hated you."

She hates most how much she loved you. Relied on you. Because you were the only family she had left to rely on. Then nothing.

"So focus on yourself. Like you always do." like you always have. But my mouth runs on, too busy to be thinking out loud.

"Since we have mutual interests, since it would be inconvenient for me to have those people die yet, let's work together. Lilyanne will take too long to grow up, and her visions aren't linear- there's too many plot holes. I offer you at least one version of events- all that can go right and wrong for more than the next decade. I hate to say it but you're the only one who can take the truth, and take full advantage of me. You know best how to cheat in life. All to put up with me and my insignificant businesses, it will cost less than your pocket change. Isn't that an unfairly good deal? "

Was I being too bold? This isn't a business deal but my lifeline I'm gambling on. But isn't the life of a noble just constant transactions and deals? Even their marriage? What a sick sad game we play.

Either way, I have no room for regrets in this life. It's too great a deficit if Rosalia's carries over again.

I already have enough of that on my own.

Things I can no longer say. Debts to people left unpaid. The guilt must leave me at least partly insane. I still instinctively look for black eyes and boyish grins, even in unlikely faces. Wrong place and wrong time to let my thoughts go there. But whenever isn't it the wrong time?

Grampa sighs, that big strong scary hand reaches out and I dare not breathe. Gable wouldn't let him crush me like a bug under this roof right? Right?! Should I start screaming at this point? Maybe breathing?

The big bad scary hand pats my hair and sighs again even louder.

"It's turning even redder, ah why did you have to take after Freddy in these parts? My baby girl is going to blame me for this when she gets back."

"...leave my hair...out of this!" I screech, taking a pillow to blindly wack at this oaf.

Bad Grampa! Stupid grampa! What the hell, I was being serious there!

"Why *smack* are you *smack* always *smack* like this!!!"

At the end of the day though, my stamina isn't so great. Especially since life isn't so leisurely in these vineyards, babysitting my sister and the minions in all the 'training' excuses of chores. Fueled with rage and long-simmering frustration, I quickly tire out from hitting full force with a pillow for a couple of minutes. My tiny arms throbbing with fatigue.

Ah don't ever boo on fight scenes. This is too much effort!

"That's it. Doesn't that feel better?"

"I was being serious!"

"And now you're being honest for once. Not placing things at a distance. It's easier that way, I know, but then you can't say all the important things you need to. Then you can't make it real."

Even though my hands are sore, I wack him once again. For lack of anything better to say. Not like it will work on someone as crazy as him.

"It hurts less that way. You hurt a lot the first round, huh? So much so you don't want it to be real. You don't want to do it all over again. You don't want to face any of what hurt you again. And that's us." grampa put on a bit of a disparaging smirk, finger pointed to his head like a gun.

I feel the pillow drop from my hands.

"Nothing I can do about that time pumpkin. You're right, I wasn't there. And you can't chase ghosts for what they don't remember, what they didn't do just yet. The ghosts can chase you, they can even haunt you, but you don't get to chase them back. There's nothing there but a dead end, and you ran all that way for nothing. Frustrating isn't it?"

"Why do you always talk like that? Why can't you just...say what you mean?!"

"Can you?"

"Of course! I...I-"

"Do you miss it? Being someone else? That person before this?"

Why is it, that when this person actually becomes serious in that particular way of his, I always find myself dumb? Numb, dumb and speechless.

Nothing is resolved and it already hurts this much. It's already this dangerously scary. It's not good for my heart. I want to blame it on him and run away. I just want it to go away.

And that is why I can never get over myself, why I can't ever move on. Why I'm never good enough for anything, or anyone.

"No.... No, I don't miss being me at all." I try not to choke, honest truth bubbling out "I miss things. I miss people. I miss....a lot...but I wasn't a very good person. I'm still not. I didn't like being me very much all at much."

"Being good? Doesn't mean anything, not in any world. Don't fret over it, Rosalia. Don't let it eat you all up inside."

"Why do you ask me that? Why don't you ever....do you miss it? Whoever you were before? Whatever life you managed to make before all this? Does it even matter? You're rich, famous, ridiculously strong, does it even matter? "

"Of course it does. Everything matters. Every little thing. "

"Do you miss it?"

"Sometimes. Sometimes I miss that I couldn't do anything more. Life goes by, it went by, and I missed it. All the tedious things, the unimportant moments with the right people, the right person, they're the ones I miss most. And I didn't know, just how damn much I would, till it was all gone."

Warm big hands wipe away this young body's uncontrollable tears but I can't hold down how much I hate him.

I hate this man. I hate it most when he smiles as I cry.

Don't do that when you look so damn sad. Just don't. Don't act as if the world is going to die if you can't keep it up. Don't bother if you're going to look so lonely underneath it all.

Don't smile so much when you just want to cry yourself.

The same words the Rosalia could never say still sits in a lump in my chest. Stupid. Stupid helpless old man. Can't even take care of himself. The very worse sort of accomplice in this big bad world. I really can't do anything with him.

"Do you....ever want to go back?" I ask, carefully, as if treading the woods in the dark.

"...No. No I don't think I would."

"But, you missed it? Everything, everyone, they slipped through your fingers and you missed it. "

"Time does that to anything and everyone. I missed it. And I'll miss this if I do. Not the fame, power or riches. What I have now, who I have now. This...I wouldn't give this up for anything. Little one, you're not me, nor do I know you and your story."

There is a word I remember, from that other world that is now only a story. Sonder. The realization that everyone, absolutely everyone, has a story. Just as crazy, just and mundane, awful, and beautiful. Everyone, even a crazy old man, has a painful story somewhere in them. Maybe lots of stories.

For one to live this long, there must be a collection of them. Personal stories lived out.

"But, having a family, like the one you do now, is more than anything someone as pathetic as me ever could have imagined." he whispers.

But they're not mine, I think, lips tight. I think it and something inside me sink. I don't have anything like that. I'm the pathetic one, not you.

"You're right...that we're very different....I don't think about it. I don't want to. I'm going to miss too much, I think I'll die. And I think I've died enough."

It doesn't get any less scary. Or less lonely.

"Silly girl, that's what people do. They live and they die, again and again. But if done right, you'll live it all well to the end."

That's wrong. I've already missed it, that chance. In an even worse way, Rosalia's missed her's and so she's dead. Somehow, now I'm here. I've both given and robbed her of her chance.

And I won't think any more about mine. It wasn't a very good one anyway.

"You don't have to believe me, and you certainly don't have to delve into it. All those memories and what they mean. Not just yet. Because you very well may die from it, be buried by them."

A terrifying dream flashes through my mind. One that sounds chillingly like the voice in front of me now. I know I can blame him till the world ends, and it still won't be enough. I know he's right.

But that doesn't mean I like it!

Hopping off the settee, I use grampa and a stepping stool to get to the chalkboard. The board being too tall for me to use it properly, but I make do, filling in parts and pieces of the map I do remember. My memory isn't perfect, especially since exploring dungeons isn't in Rosalia's arsenals. But it was important to keep track of any goods that came in or out of the territory. Loot and raw materials, especially stolen ones from a newly discovered spot, more than counted.

Besides, it's better than remembering anything else.

Monsters and wild grass. Not bakeries and bar menus. Estimated time frame, men, safety precautions to take in advance. Not work schedules and meet ups, not video calls and friends.

Not anyone.

"You work too much..." a familiar friendly face moans in boredom on the phone screen. The battery low and the device running hot.

"Hang up then." she hardly looked over at the complaining face.

Worksheets spread out over multiple desks even though she was alone. Infographics on the computer screen and too much demographic research to be of any specific use. The space on the messy whiteboard took near every inch with her scribbles and brainstorm notes.

"No."

"You'll just be watching me do this boring shit all night."

"No, charge up your phone and close up. It's late."

"Yeah it is. Hang up already, you're two hours ahead of me over there!"

"Right? So if you care for me and my terrible student sleep schedule at all, go the fuck home already Meng. Ah keep the phone on, it's dangerous. Did you plug it in yet?"

"For god's sake, yes." an office chair rolled over, making sure to hook up the device. For good measure, she glared at the other side of the screen, taking on an authoritative tone. "It's fine. I'm a proper adult unlike you, I'm used to working overtime and staying out late. Hang up and go to sleep like a good boy already. You won't do well if your brain is useless like it is now."

"...I'm already 22....and just because you're used to it doesn't mean that's a good thing? Mengy, I'm tired but more importantly.... don't stay in dark empty office building all by yourself. Don't you know...." that voice began to take a slightly ominous tone.

"Don't you dare finish that sentence- don't you dare try to scare the crap out of me again, I need to be ahead of schedule for all this work I'm juggling and there are the clients to impress tomorrow." Meng cut him off.

"Oh? You're already ahead of schedule? Good job, but you're not guaranteed any paid bonuses for that will you?"

"....that's not the point. It's about building long term clientele so loyal to our brand they'll be begging to work with me everywhere I go!"

"Ah...so loyal....sounds like this story I heard. About an overworked office worker, he worked so hard for so little recognition that-"

"That he died! Heard it a million times. Get off of the scary part of the internet and either study or go to sleep you brat! You're not scaring me tonight?!" She tried, and if she yelled enough maybe she would actually believe it.

The office was quite dark all on her own.

"It's not just one person though...they say that spirits gather energy, resentment. There's a lot we don't understand, can't see with the naked human eye. In a big empty building...in the dark night where no other living soul is around... such a pretty girl as yourself...in your stockings and high heels, ah even a dead ghost wouldn't be able to resist." Jung-Joon states, sighing across the screen.

"Jokes on you, I changed into fuzzy slippers!" she lifted her foot, up to where the camera was angled to view the animal shaped slippers.

"Ah very cute. If I was a ghost I'd still go after you. Like right now. No problem. Better make it running shoes for a slightly faster escape." he pointed out.

"Haha bastard, I listened to enough of your shit to know I can outrun a ghost."

"Meng?"

"What? You finally give up and will let me work?"

"...Of course not. I miss you. I just miss everything about you. Say you miss me too?"

"...."

"Meng? Come on, don't hide. Mengy~ Let me see your face? Is it very red? I miss that too. Ah, I really want to make and see you get embarrassed in person. Can this semester go by any faster? So close. "

"I'm hanging up, go to sleep or fail your next course. See if I care."

"Ah, don't do th-"

She really hung up, and if her face was hot it was probably from talking too long on the phone. Even if it was video call propped up. Finally, some peace and quiet to get work done more effectively.

The zealous worker enjoyed prompt 1 minute of silence before realizing just how dark and quiet it was without another voice echoing in the room. Even if it was just through something as small as a mobile device.

It was a nice and modern building. Sure the machinery hummed, and sometimes something creaked, but definitely not haunted. Right?

A car drove by outside, lights and shadow flickering. Something made a hollow thump in the wall. A tapping from the sink, dripping steadily undetected from before.

Too quiet. It was too quiet and she couldn't stop herself from noticing everything, anything. Maybe she should turn on some more lights? Lights were good yes, lights and music and...

The elevator dinged and no one else should be in the building.

"Eeeeep!" she couldn't press the phone app open fast enough, the connection wasn't going through fast enough.

"Pick up pick up pick up, please, pick up."

"Aww, do you miss me yet? In that....1 minute and 23 seconds?" the screen connected, back to life.

"Jung-Joon shut the fuck up and get ready to call for help, witness me as I potentially die."

"Um, hmmm you know this isn't the kind of late night call I was hoping for from you. But alright then. I'll take what I can get."

"No, you don't get it. There's no one else here right now!?"

"It is very late in the night. Like I said. "

"The elevator just- oh shit...I heard something. ...Outside in the hall?!"

"So....it's time."

"Time for what you little shit? This is all your fault, like it could just be someone who forgot something and-"

"They're here for you. Just like I warned...but you didn't listen."

"Jung-Joon?!?!"

"It may be too late....but no matter what Meng, I need you to know...that I lo-"

"I'm barring the doors! I'm ahh!!!! It's-"

*slam*

The door swings open at the same time a heavy loaded office chair flings itself to the would be ghost. For a horror story undead, it was surprisingly human-like, doubling over in pain. Another female ghost with short hair stood behind, howling in laughter.

"Get wrecked bro!"

"Sunny?! Why are you...Bossman, oh shit uh...hey there....you alright? Sorry about the....chair?"

On the floor, the poor man was hit a little too hard to give any more answers than a whimper, clutching at parts any man valued more than his life. It's a good thing he was single, Meng blearily noted, because whatever she just hit wasn't going to recover any time too soon.

On the video chat, Jung-Joon could finally finish his sentence, through some light laughter of his own.

"I was saying, that I love and worry about you so much, that I asked someone to come drag you home. Or at least out of the office. It's not good for you. Sunny just made the most sense, with her studio in the same building. Sorry, did you get scared? Ah, is my brother even alive?"

"Ahahahahaha! That was awesome! That chair came full force out of nowhere and hit just right?! Ahahahha!"

"Bossman, like....Oh fuck. I am so sorry.... you could have texted or called me ahead though?!"

The two girls dragged up the whimpering pale man on the floor, his only cursing words being "ugly violent woman" and "disowned, Jung-Joon from henceforth you are disowned!"

"Don't blame me, I'm not even there." the other side of the screen complained, "Sunny thanks for picking up Mengy, I can finally get some sleep in peace now. Night Meng. Sleep tight, remember to dream of me tonight."

"...."

She promptly hung up the phone, too tired for violence. Apparently there was already enough of that. One person was still clutching himself immobile with pain, the other still laughing her ass off and the work on the whiteboard still wasn't all organized and done.

It would just have to do.

It's a chalkboard in front of me, not anything more modern than that.

My height is small and my hands are even smaller as I scribble. The material only relevant to this world, this life and current situation. Thank goodness. Nothing unnecessary. Nothing more.

I'm too tired for any of that. I don't want to remember any more than I already do.

It's already...too much work to recall what I can. To even keep up. I can hardly keep my eyes open, and no it's not from crying too much. Well at least not all of it. Curses, how dare these horrible meetings always leave me in tears.

"This is as much as I know. The dungeon is barely mid level- nothing the troops can't handle. Let it rest 3 weeks to regenerate if it's not destroyed and most importantly of all..." I hop down, dusting my fingers off chalk to smack off grampa's knowing gaze, "do not give the public access! Lock it down! Station people and close it off. We actually have enough decent manpower this time to secure the premise, I repeat do not let locals, travelers or any of the masses free access. It's going to cause mayhem. Idiots."

When I look back at the board, my additions are barely anything to what grampa already had down. The found site honestly not being all that large or dangerous compared to others that exist in this world. But I still worry.

It was certainly too much work for the Rosalia of that time. But perhaps now? With grampa actually at home in the reigns and the troops still in their prime? I think we actually have a chance to profit from this, provided they follow my simple instructions.

That's a wrap. It's not good for my body to stay up so late.

"Will note, but just where are you headed off to now pumpkin?"

"To bed, I'm tired now, good night."

"Awww but-"

"No way am I sleeping in your dumb gross bed, wherever it is. Talk to me when it's Gable or something. Goodnight!"

With that I huff off and out, storming to the kiddies' room. How dangerous. I think grampa was actually serious about these terrible attempts at bonding. Ah too frightening, being treated as in infant teddy bear by a man of that strength and caliber would be too dangerous. I'd never be able to sleep a wink in fear.

In the semi-lit children's quarter, I check in on my baby sister fast asleep in her magically locked crib. The perfect kind to spot to keep her nice and safe. It's hard for her to even stay up pass 7pm, let alone this terribly late hour.

Personally, I like more room and no one sucking on my thumb in my own sleeping quarters. With a spare stolen pillow clutched to my side, the same one used to wack grampa into somewhat submission today, I smack some snoozing minions taking up my spot on the big bed.

"Move over." I growl.

Blearily Lukas rolls awake, taking in my unexpected appearance and exclaiming his daily nonsense.

"Ha! Did they kick you out too! Told you, you can't do it every night or Gable gets mad or Cap gets grumpy but sometimes it's okay and sometimes they're really snuggly and warm but not all the time because-"

"You're dreaming weird things." I crawl into the prewarmed bed, kicking and rearranging my pillows to buffer out the sound.

"Nu-uh, I can prove it because sometimes is a lot of times for me and only you don't believe me because stinky baby doesn't count but Amar believes me too because he says sometimes they smell alike so-"

"Sleep." groans and rolls over Amar from his corner against the wall, his version of tired whining, "Sleepy time now."

"But Rosa kicked me. And she still thinks and says-" it was a mistake to wake Lukas. Lots of things are mistakes here.

"You kick and hit everyone in your sleep. Uh I mean- anything you say Lukas, now ssshhhhhhh. " I beg, already fluffed and curled in.

"But-"

"Please? Sleep?" Amar yawns, hiding further into the covers.

"Fiiiiine. Rest up sidekicks so you both get bigger and stronger faster. But I'll prove it laters."

Satisfied with this moment in peace, I sigh and peacefully drift away. Because there's really only so much a girl like me can do. It's not like I'm getting paid extra for this after all.

Oddly, I feel lighter and more relaxed than I have been in a while, even with all the laborious exercise. Sleep hitting far too soon and very comfortably. I don't dream of anything, just the way I like it.

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