Jean watched Vivian holding the egg well into the evening and finally couldn’t hold back his question.
No matter how much she liked that jewel, at this rate she looked ready to even bathe while clutching it.
“Bibi, isn’t it heavy? Want Daddy to hold it for you?”
“I’m fine. It’s not heavy at all!”
In truth, it was a bit heavy. But the moment she heard Jean’s words, the egg panicked as if it must never be handed over, so Vivian couldn’t show it on her face.
Pouting slightly, she looked down at the egg—then suddenly, as if struck by a thought, she called out to him urgently.
“Daddy, Daddy! Come here. There’s something you have to do for me.”
“Hm? What is it?”
“Let’s go to my room first! I left it there.”
Still holding the egg with one arm, Vivian tugged at Jean’s sleeve with the other.
“What could it be? And Bibi, your room is downstairs, isn’t it?”
Vivian hesitated, mumbling under her breath. It felt hard to admit she had lost her room to Peter—especially remembering Jean’s face that morning when he had gone out saying he’d wash dishes.
‘If he knows how I’ve been living, Daddy will be sad. I shouldn’t say it!’
“…Th-that room… I gave it to Peter. This is my room now.”
“……”
Jean didn’t need to guess the truth. But seeing Vivian’s concern for him, he chose to pretend not to know.
Vivian opened the door and pointed to a corner of the room.
“D-Daddy! That painting, take it out!”
“A painting? What paint—ah.”
What she was pointing at was a portrait of Jean and Vivian together.
It was something Jean had commissioned after painfully regretting that he had no painting left of his wife. He had saved money for a long time just to hire an artist.
It had originally been hung right by the entrance, but Ron and Mary had tried to take it down and throw it away. Vivian had begged and begged until they reluctantly allowed it to remain—but it was moved into storage.
It was so large that it took two grown arms stretched wide to carry it. Climbing stairs with it had been so difficult that the scars from that effort still remained on his legs.
The more he looked at it over time, the stronger his longing became, until he could no longer bear to see it. So it had been placed in a corner, half-forgotten.
But now—
‘Now that Daddy is back!’
It was time for the painting to return to its place.
“It’s still here…”
Thinking it had long been discarded, Jean walked toward it with a shaken expression.
A younger version of himself, dressed as he had been on his wedding day, holding little Vivian carefully in his arms.
The painter had captured the sunlight pouring through the window so perfectly that just looking at it brought the entire moment back to life.
How bright that day had been. How light Vivian had felt in his arms. The sweet, baby-like scent that had been so precious.
Jean’s eyes grew moist as he wiped them and gently embraced Vivian.
“Thank you, Bibi. You kept this painting. Should we hang it back where it was?”
“Yes! I want it to be the first thing we see when we come home, like before.”
“Alright. And from now on, your room will be the one you used before. Okay?”
“Okay! But…”
Vivian leaned in and whispered into his ear, one hand still carefully holding the egg.
“…Can I keep sleeping in Daddy’s room? I don’t want to sleep alone in my room.”
Just a while ago, she had insisted she would sleep alone.
Jean let out a soft laugh, unable to resist her small, endearing plea, and whispered back.
“Daddy is always welcome. My princess.”
A week passed before anyone noticed.
Vivian no longer doubted Jean’s existence. Knowing that her father would not leave again made her noticeably brighter.
And a week was also enough for Jean to grow used to the sight of his daughter carrying the egg everywhere.
But not during meals.
“Bibi. I told you not to hold the egg while eating.”
“Yes sir…”
[No! Don’t let go of me! I feel like I’ll hatch any moment now!]
“You’ve been saying that for a week.”
[No, this time I mean it! Just five minutes. Five minutes!]
“Haaah…”
“Vivian.”
Caught between Jean’s stern gaze and the egg’s whining, Vivian dragged a chair closer and placed the egg right beside her, setting it on the seat.
[Just five minutes! Hm? Hmm… alright. This is acceptable.]
As Vivian pressed her body tightly against the chair so she could eat with difficulty, the noisy egg finally quieted, satisfied.
“Daddy, the egg keeps begging to be held, I can’t help it. It says it’ll come out soon, so please be patient!”
Jean’s stern expression softened despite himself.
“Just for today. Tomorrow, you’ll sit properly while eating, alright?”
“Okay! I want to sit properly too, Daddy!”
[How dare you treat taking care of this noble being like a burden!]
Vivian pretended to scratch her ear. The egg wiggled angrily in protest.
“Hm?”
Wiggle?
Vivian froze mid-motion, fork in hand.
It was definitely moving. The egg rocked side to side as if struggling to contain its excitement—then—
crack.
A sharp fracture split across its luminous surface.
“Ah! Daddy! The egg! It’s hatching!”
“Huh? The jewel really cracked!”
“It’s not a jewel, it’s an egg!”
[You tiny human! I was even starting to find you somewhat admirable, and now you mock me?!]
“Now’s not the time! It’s breaking! Is it coming out?”
[What? Breaking? Wait—huh? It really is! Light… light! U-kiki-kiki! I am free!]
The egg trembled again and again as the cracks spread.
Half of it was already fractured when something inside finally revealed itself.
[U-kiki!]
“…What… is that?”
What emerged from the broken shell—
was a monkey.
A small monkey with black fur and bright red eyes, wearing the egg shell like a hat.
“A–a monster! Bibi, come here!”
Jean, startled, rushed across the table and pulled Vivian into his arms.
The monkey stretched its stiff limbs, then shouted angrily.
[How dare you call this noble body a monster! Ignorant humans!]
“Daddy, is that a monkey?”
“Monkeys don’t hatch from eggs, Vivian!”
[I am not a monkey! Human!]
“It says it’s not a monkey.”
Vivian pressed a finger to her lips thoughtfully.
Jean couldn’t understand the monkey’s words, so to him it looked like Vivian was simply talking nonsense again.
But at this point, he could no longer dismiss her.
He looked like he might grab a knife from the table and attack the creature, but Vivian’s calm voice made him hesitate.
“…Were you really talking with it, Bibi?”
“You thought I was lying all this time?”
Vivian shot him a pointed look. Jean quickly waved his hands in panic.
Meanwhile, the monkey stretched proudly onto the table and declared:
[The air outside is refreshing! Humans—and little human. I shall introduce myself formally. I am the divine beast left behind by the dragon.]
“He says he’s a divine beast, Daddy.”
“A… divine beast?”
“And he says a dragon left him behind.”
In the empire where Vivian and Jean lived, there was an ancient legend: that a dragon and a human once bore a child who founded the nation.
But in a world where monsters and magic had long since faded into myth, people treated such stories as fairy tales.
Jean was no exception.
And yet—right before their eyes—legend had appeared.
[Bow before me and worship!]
‘I don’t really understand, but maybe I shouldn’t tell Daddy that.’
Vivian ignored the monkey.
Jean, who couldn’t understand its speech, cautiously asked:
“Um… divine beast… sir? May I ask one question?”
[Yes! Unlike this little human, you know respect! Speak!]
“…It says it’s fine, Daddy.”
“Why… exactly… are you a monkey?”
A heavy silence fell over the room.
