IWAPUF 13

Gulp.
Snort.
Rant’s tiny throat moved as he swallowed, the sound louder than it had any right to be. I couldn’t
help it anymore—I burst out laughing.
When I finally pushed the plate toward him, ending my teasing, the child’s wide eyes flickered
between me and the cake.
“Go on, try it.”
Even with permission given, he hesitated. I could practically see the steam rising from that little
head of his, the gears turning as he debated what to do.
“Hurry.”
Snatch!
In the end, a child was still a child. Rant’s internal struggle didn’t last long. I nudged the plate
closer, just beneath his nose, and the moment I did, his tiny hand lunged for the cake. What had
once been a delicate work of culinary art was instantly crushed beneath the brute strength of a
miniature tyrant.
“So crude…”
“Some things can’t be hidden, no matter how well you dress them up.”
The maids standing off to the side began to snicker and whisper behind their hands at the child’s
rough behavior. Their derision froze Rant in place just as he was about to bring the ruined cake to
his mouth.
That’s not good.
His face—ears and all—turned scarlet, the kind of deep flush that made him look both pitiful and,
Admittedly, rather endearing.
Is it wrong that I keep wanting to tease him more? Maybe I really am developing some sadistic
tendencies…
Watching him flounder like that, I couldn’t deny he was cute. But the maids who had reduced him
to this pitiful state? Not so much.
It’s fine if I tease him. But if someone else does, I hate it.
“Out.”
“Pardon?”
“Don’t make me repeat myself. Get out. Now.”
“M-my apologies, my lady!”
Startled by my cold tone and sharper glare, the maids scrambled to exit the parlor. The door shut
behind them, and silence settled over the room once more.
Rant still sat there, face flushed, head bowed. His gaze was locked on his fingers, now smeared
with cream.
Sigh.
He flinched at the sound of my exhale. I bit back the next sigh building in my chest and reached
out toward his dark blue hair, where a dab of cream had landed.
Jerk!
He recoiled instantly, screwing his eyes shut as he curled into himself, arms shielding his face. I
was the one left surprised.
I slowly lowered my hand, studying the way he trembled—shoulders hunched, arms wrapped
around his head, his small body coiled in fear. The message was as clear as it was heartbreaking.
He’s been hit before, hasn’t he?
I didn’t know what kind of life Rant had led until now, but it was obvious that it hadn’t been a
Good one.
“This complicates things…”
I muttered without thinking, drumming my fingers against the table. That made him shrink even
smaller, as though my voice itself were a threat. The image overlapped in my mind with another—
a small, whimpering puppy, injured and afraid.
This is more complicated than I thought.
Sigh.
I couldn’t hold back this time. I sighed aloud. I had never intended to form deep connections with
Anyone here, but watching this unfold, I couldn’t simply turn away.
It’s just one child. What could it change, really?
Acting on instinct, I reached out again and placed my hand gently atop Rant’s head. I could feel
his trembling through my palm.
I didn’t speak. I simply started to smooth down his soft, navy-blue hair. Like silk, I thought
absently. The sensation wasn’t unpleasant.
“…”
I couldn’t say how long we stayed like that. But eventually, his shaking stopped. I leaned in close
and murmured by his ear.
“Hungry?”
Grrrrgle.
Right on cue, his stomach answered for him. The tips of his ears, which had just begun to calm
down, flushed bright red again.
“How about you lift your head, hmm?”
I tapped his ear lightly with my fingers, coaxing him. Instead of looking up, he buried his face
even deeper between his knees.
“Oh dear,” I said, teasing, “I’m not used to being refused. If you won’t show me your face,
I might just leave. Who knows? Maybe I’ll never come back.”
The moment the words left my mouth, he froze.
“Should I go, then?”
Shake shake shake.
He still wouldn’t lift his head, but now he was shaking it vehemently. I already knew the answer.
He never ran up to me, never greeted me cheerfully, but every time I came to the annex, Rant’s
eyes never left me. Those soft, amber-brown eyes always followed me like a loyal dog trailing its
master.
Like a little puppy, really.
I cupped his head with both hands and gently lifted it. He didn’t resist. Slowly, hesitantly, Rant let
me raise his face.
“Ah.”
“…”
Though he didn’t know why, Rant’s small lips parted slightly, mimicking mine. I dipped my
finger into the cream smudged on his cheek and slipped it gently into the gap between his lips.
“…!”
“It’s good, isn’t it?”
His soft brown eyes widened in surprise. Without waiting for a response, I placed a cream-laden
piece of cake into his still-open mouth.
“…!”
Rant’s eyes stayed round as saucers as he quickly covered his mouth with both hands.
“What’s wrong? Don’t like it?”
Shake shake.
“Then why cover your mouth?”
Instead of answering, Rant’s gaze flicked toward the door. Then, lowering his head, he avoided
my eyes. But I saw it—just before he bowed his head, his eyes darted once more to the closed
door, as if afraid someone might be watching from the other side.
“Rant.”
At the sound of his name, he lifted his head. I made a show of licking the cream off my finger. His
face blanched in an instant, panic flashing across his expression as his eyes bounced between me
and the door.
Poor thing. As if someone might storm in and punish us both.
“Should I scold them for you?”
“…”
“You saw them, didn’t you? Shaking in their boots just because I raised my voice.”
Confusion flickered in those amber eyes of his.
“If you want, I’ll punish them. Shall I?”
My voice dropped, low and coaxing, like the whisper of a devil offering a deal.
Rant looked stricken and shook his head. Hard.
“Why not? They laughed at you.”
He shook his head again—more forcefully this time, almost violently.
“If someone does something wrong, they should be punished. Treating you poorly in this house?
That’s a serious offense.”
“…hurts.”
“What?”
It was the first time I’d heard his voice.
I’d suspected he wasn’t mute—I’d seen enough to believe that—but since coming here, not once
had he spoken. Until now.
“…It hurts,” he whispered again, voice small and broken.
I pulled him into my arms, holding the child’s trembling frame close. Slowly, the dampness from
his tears seeped through the front of my dress. His words had been hesitant and halting, but their
meaning landed squarely in my chest like a stone.
“It… it hurts when you’re punished.”
“…Alright. If you don’t want me to, I won’t.”
I gently rubbed his back, patting him in slow, soothing circles.
“You’re a kind boy, Rant.”
It was as if a dam had burst. The quiet sniffles became loud, heaving sobs. I heard some
movement outside the door—muffled rustling, a startled whisper—but no one dared to enter the
parlor.
They must think I’m the one making him cry.
Let them. I didn’t care what they assumed or misunderstood. Their opinions meant nothing to me.
The only thing that mattered now was the child in my arms, weeping as if his tiny heart were
breaking.
And his tears… they made me angry. Furiously so.
This place needs a reckoning, and soon.
If the staff dared treat Rant this way in my presence, it meant they didn’t consider him worth
anything at all. It meant this whole house had been complicit in ignoring him, in pushing him
aside.
First, I’ll make sure my puppy has everything he needs.
“Cry as much as you need to, my little puppy.”
My puppy.
For the first time since coming here… something—someone—belonged to me.