It had been two days since that incident, and Alex could see that his sister still hadn't been able to move on. She stayed in her room, hesitant to step outside, haunted by what had happened.
Crack.
Alex tapped the eggs lightly. The shells split cleanly, and the yolks and whites fell into the wooden bowl. He sprinkled in a pinch of salt and began stirring, slow and deliberate, letting the rhythm settle his thoughts.
Even he knew he wouldn't be able to move on so easily. If he had been a second later, she would have become nothing more than a toy for those bastards. Not anymore. Those men were ball-less now. Completely incapable of ever doing something like that again. He had made sure of it.
Once the eggs were mixed, he turned to the chamomile. He chopped the delicate leaves and tiny stems into fine pieces, the soft scent rising as the knife passed through them. Chamomile was perfect for calming the mind, a small balm for frayed nerves, and it made a decent tea. It also eased muscle aches. Tiny, precise additions went into the bowl, and stirred again, carefully.
When the mixture went into the frying pan, it hissed and sizzled, curling at the edges. The aroma hit him—rich, warm, and surprisingly satisfying.
A small smile tugged at his lips.
"I've still got it," he muttered. "Even in my past life, you needed to know how to cook. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day… though, let's be honest, it won't save you from dying someday anyway."
After the eggs finished cooking, Alex moved on to the fried rice. The grains hissed softly as they hit the hot pan, releasing a faint, comforting aroma.
He grabbed another herb from the basket and placed it on the wooden chopping board. It was licorice root—known to relieve physical exhaustion and calm the mind. Alex chopped it finely, scattering small pieces over the rice, then stirred it carefully, making sure the flavor and effect blended evenly.
After a few minutes, a warm, velvety aroma rose from the fried rice. Alex carried the pan carefully and poured everything onto a wooden plate, placing the warm eggs neatly on top.
He then grabbed a wooden cup and filled it with hot water. From the basket, he picked another herb—thin, delicate, with silvery leaves. Alex plucked the leaves slowly, letting a few fall naturally into the cup, then chopped the flower buds finely and added them as well, watching them settle into the water.
Alex knocked on his sister's door.
"Sister," he said. "Breakfast is ready. Still warm. Still edible."
Silence.
Then, from the other side of the door, her voice came—quiet, hesitant, barely above a murmur.
"I'm… not hungry."
Alex closed his eyes for a brief moment. "Right," he replied flatly. "Because locking yourself in a room and starving is clearly the healthiest coping strategy."
No response.
He leaned closer to the door. "Open it," he added. "Or I'm coming in. And if I have to come in, I'll make this extremely undignified for both of us."
Another pause.
The door finally creaked open, just enough for her to peek through.
She stood half-hidden behind it, shoulders drawn in, fingers clenched tightly around the edge of the wood as if it might disappear if she let go. Her hair was a mess, eyes avoiding his, her posture small and guarded. She looked like she hadn't slept—like she hadn't wanted to.
Alex sighed. "You look awful," he said casually. "Congratulations. That takes effort."
Before she could react, he stepped forward and lifted her into his arms, careful but firm.
"W—wait—Alex, what are you doing?" she said, her voice breaking slightly as she struggled, more embarrassed than angry. "Put me down—this is—"
"Relax," Alex cut in. "You're light. That's not a compliment."
She froze, face heating up, hands hovering awkwardly as if unsure where to place them.
"Keep squirming," Alex added dryly, "and I'll drop you. Then you'll have a real excuse to skip breakfast."
Her movements stopped immediately.
Alex adjusted his grip and turned toward the kitchen. "Good choice," he said. "See? Cooperation already. We're making progress."
"Here. Say ahh," Alex said, holding the spoon just close enough to be annoying.
"I'm not a kid," Jein replied, clearly avoiding eye contact. "And before you say something stupid, I'm pretty sure I'm older than you."
"Right," Alex said. "And yet I'm not the one barricading myself in a room and refusing breakfast like it personally offended me."
"Tsk."
Jein clicked her tongue, her glare sharp for about half a second before she looked away again, shoulders stiff like she'd rather fight a dragon than this conversation.
Alex sighed. "Are you planning to keep staring at me like that until your eyes fall out, or are you actually going to eat what I'm holding before it gets cold and I lose my patience?"
"Tsk."
She clicked her tongue again, hesitated, then leaned forward just a little, opening her mouth reluctantly to take the bite. She chewed slowly, trying very hard not to look impressed, failing quietly.
"…You're a good cook," Jein muttered. "What, did getting struck by lightning suddenly unlock some hidden talent or something?"
Alex raised a brow. "Are you being sarcastic with me right now," he said, already bringing the next bite to her lips, "or is this your awkward way of saying thank you?"
Jein flushed faintly and looked away. "Don't push it."
"Too late," Alex replied. "You opened your mouth. That's a commitment."
"Here. Drink this," Alex said, holding a cup out toward his sister.
Jein glanced at it, curiosity slipping through her guarded expression. "What is it?"
"It's… kind of herbal tea," Alex replied after a brief pause. "Also works like herbal medicine. More or less."
She took the cup and sipped carefully. Her eyes closed almost on instinct as the warmth settled in, the herbs easing through her body. The tension in her shoulders loosened, just a little, but enough to notice.
After a moment, Jein slowly opened her eyes and lowered the cup. Her fingers traced the rim absentmindedly as she looked down at the herbs floating inside.
"…You've really changed," she said quietly. "You weren't like this before."
She lifted her gaze to him. "What happened to you? You've changed so much that I don't even know if you're still my brother."
Alex stiffened, a bead of sweat forming at his temple. "I… don't know either," he admitted.
Jein blinked, then let out a small laugh. "What kind of answer is that?"
Alex glanced away, then smiled faintly.
Well, he thought, as long as I can still make her smile… I'll count that as progress.
Alex held the spoon again, feeding his sister until the entire plate was empty.
"Are you going to cook for me again?" Jein asked, peering at him with a mix of curiosity and caution.
"Of course," Alex said proudly. "If you want, I can cook as much as you like. You'd better be ready for it."
Jein chuckled softly. "Then… tonight, I want something hot. Soup. Something that actually warms you up."
"Sure," Alex replied with a smirk. "I'll make it delicious—but only on one condition."
"What… what condition?" Jein asked, tilting her head, suspicious.
"You have to sleep," Alex said matter-of-factly. "Because getting the ingredients for your little request isn't easy, and I plan to make it perfect."
"But—" Jein started, but Alex cut her off immediately.
"I'll even add… MEAT!" he declared, slamming his hand down lightly on the table for emphasis.
Jein's mouth watered, and a tiny bead of saliva betrayed her excitement. She quickly wiped it away. "T-then… I'll do what you say… little bro," she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she tried to hide just how eager she was.
Alex just grinned, enjoying her flustered reaction. "Good girl. You'll see—this will be worth it."
"Good girl?" Jein said, brow slightly raised, her tone sharp with that teasing edge only an older sister could pull off.
"You know… you talk like you're much older than me," she added, voice carrying that subtle authority, even as her cheeks tinted slightly.
"Ahh… that's just a… ahem… reflex," Alex replied, glancing left and right, a little sweat forming at his temple, smirking despite himself.
"Is that so…" Jein whispered, leaning just a little. "Then… carry me to my room."
"Oh, really?" Alex teased, a grin curling on his lips. "So you're saying I talk older than you, huh… yet somehow, one of us is acting like the absolute child here. Care to guess which one?"
"That's just… unfair!" Jein snapped, cheeks warming. "I'm still weak and tired, you know, not some spoiled little brat whining for attention!"
After a few more minutes of quiet bickering, Alex finally turned his back and carefully lifted his sister onto it.
"Hey…" Jein spoke softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
"What?" Alex replied as he stepped carefully onto the stairs, adjusting his balance. "You scared I'll drop you down the steps or something?" he added with a small chuckle.
"No, you moron," Jein muttered.
Her fingers tightened around the fabric of his shirt.
"Do you think…" she hesitated, her grip stiffening, "…do you think I can overcome this fear someday?" she asked, forcing the words out while holding back her tears.
Alex's expression sharpened. He went silent for a moment, then let out a slow breath.
"What is it?" Jein said quietly. "Are you disappointed in your big sister now?"
"No," Alex replied immediately. "That's not it."
He paused.
"That'd require me to expect you to be fearless in the first place." Alex said flatly.
By the time they reached her room, Alex carefully lowered her onto the bed. Jein leaned back, pulled the blanket over herself, and turned away from him.
"I'll… try to sleep," she said, not looking back.
"Okay," Alex replied.
He closed the door gently. Outside, he leaned his back against the wall and exhaled.
"Listen. If you're waiting to feel better before you live, you're going to be hiding forever. Fear doesn't go away because you asked nicely. You move while it's there. Shaking, annoyed, miserable—doesn't matter."
A short pause.
"Do it scared. That's how it shuts up."
Silence.
Alex turned and walked away.
Inside the room, silent tears fell—saying more than any action ever could.
Outside, Alex froze.
His face flushed as the words replayed in his head.
What the fuck did I just say? he thought.