Accidentally become a father-Chapter 47: Good Child Syndrome at the Folding Table

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Yuna was still holding her blue bag as she stood in the living room.

Her eyes dropped to it for a moment.

Then, she set it down gently on the floor near the wall.

And said nothing more about it.

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I opened the small closet in the corner of the room and took out a wooden folding table.

It was a 1,500-yen purchase from a discount store.

The surface was slightly scratched, but still perfectly flat.

I set it up in the middle of the room.

Clack.

Yuna immediately knelt neatly on the floor in front of it.

Her movements were quick.

As if her body instinctively knew it was study time.

She opened her bag.

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Textbooks came out one by one.

A notebook.

A pencil case.

A cat-shaped eraser.

A plastic ruler.

She set them all on the table.

Then she began to arrange them.

First pencil.

Second pencil.

Third pencil.

She lined the three of them up side by side.

Their tips were perfectly aligned.

Flawless.

The eraser went on the right.

The ruler just above it.

The spacing between them was almost perfectly equal.

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I sat across from her.

My convenience store coffee cup was still half full.

Instant coffee.

The taste was nothing special.

Yuna opened her Japanese homework workbook.

The pages turned slowly.

She read a few lines.

Then stopped.

Her index finger rested on one of the questions.

For a few seconds, she just stared at the paper.

Then she swallowed nervously.

"Papa."

"Hm."

She pointed at the question.

"This one is a little hard."

I took a sip of my coffee.

"Read it."

Yuna took a small breath.

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Her voice was quieter than before.

"The question is... what did the hare say to the tortoise after losing the race?"

She stopped.

Her eyes were no longer looking at the book.

Now, she was staring at me.

Her face was incredibly serious.

As if she were facing a university entrance exam.

"The hare is usually arrogant," she said.

I didn’t answer.

She thought about it harder.

"So maybe... the hare should apologize."

She shook her head at her own suggestion.

"No... maybe he should learn from his mistake."

Her hands began to grip her uniform skirt.

Tighter than before.

Her eyes met mine again.

"Papa..."

"Hm."

"Which answer do you like?"

I looked at her.

She rushed on.

"If you prefer the hare to apologize, I’ll write that."

She pointed at the book again.

"If you prefer a moral about hard work, I’ll write that one."

Her breathing started to quicken.

"I can write a different answer too, if you have a better one."

Her hand was now gripping her pencil tightly.

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"You just have to tell me."

She looked down a little.

"I’ll write whatever answer you like."

The room fell silent.

Only the sound of the small wall clock ticking.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

I set my coffee cup down on the table.

Clack.

The sound of ceramic meeting wood rang out clearly.

Yuna stopped talking.

She slowly raised her eyes.

Waiting for an answer.

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