We’ve been caught.

“Hey, hey, Papa. Are those people you know?”

“Ah… well, looks like it’s finally out in the open. What should we do now?”

My twenty-seven-year-old father, Lovell, says this with a lazy tilt of his head, ruffling my hair with a cheerful laugh.

We’d just bought some skewered meat from a roadside stall and were stuffing our cheeks with it when we suddenly turned around—startled by a dazed voice from behind.

“M-Maybe… Lovell, Sir…?”

A thud as something heavy drops.

There, where I’d instinctively glanced at the sound of my father’s name, stood two men, frozen in place, mouths hanging open.

“Uwah, crap, let’s get out of here.”

Without a second thought, my father suddenly scoops me up and vanishes in a blink.

We’d teleported to a spot far from town, which meant we’d just had that whole exchange…

“Why run away?”

“Didn’t you know? We’re suddenly famous. You’d be scared if we got surrounded all of a sudden, right?”

“…Yeah, I guess, Hero-san.”

“Stop it! Please!”

Covering her face with both hands, my father flailed in embarrassment. I chewed the last bit of meat in my hand, watching her with a sigh.

Then she remembered—she’d just thrown her own skewer away to grab me. Her shoulders slumped, damp with regret.

“Ugh, you’re such a pain,” I muttered, offering the rest of the meat with a “ahh~” gesture.

She happily snapped it up, chomping down like a kid who’d just been handed candy. Honestly, even from a child’s point of view, she looked adorable. Family bias, but hey—what can I do?

We’d been living in the Spirit World. Now, it was time to step into the human realm and get used to our powers.

But Father wasn’t keen on returning to his hometown. Apparently, he was from a good family, but going back would definitely cause a scene—some kind of scandal, I guess. And the reason? That “hero tale” from the beginning.

Then there was me—unusual, rare. If word got out about my existence, humans might misuse my powers.

So, with all that worry in mind, I’d just keep my hood pulled down low, lazily traveling the world with Father, occasionally tagging along with Mother for sightseeing… no, wait, *training* in the human realm.

Father’s looks? Insanely handsome. Originally, he had chestnut hair and green eyes, but thanks to the influence of the Spirit World—no, actually, because he’d made a pact with Mother—his hair turned silver and his eyes became violet.

Mother’s hair was platinum blonde. Her eyes, red. Father’s green and Mother’s red mixed together to make that violet.

My hair’s white silver, straight like Papa’s. My eyes—they’re like auroras, or mystical topaz, shifting colors depending on the angle, all built on a base of violet.

Are my eyes some kind of titanium irradiation tech? I mean, I don’t even know what that means, but it sounds like a masterpiece of modern science, and I love it.

My face is an exact copy of Mother’s—same straight silver hair, and that little habit of the side strands curling out slightly, which I got from Papa’s genes.

I’d sigh, “Mom used to be this cute when she was little, huh?” and then dote on both of us like a lovesick fool, turning every day into a light, annoying mess.

“Those people just now—they knew Papa, right? Why’d you run?”

“Didn’t think anyone’d notice my hair and eyes had changed. Got startled, okay?”

“…You declared you were running away and then ran? Why are you surprised?”

“That’s not something you’re supposed to say!”

“I didn’t make any promise like that ahead of time.”

Again, I’ll say it—my father is *incredibly* handsome. If he walks through town, everyone—men, women, it doesn’t matter—turns around to stare. And yet, he somehow thinks he’s not noticeable? Honestly, that’s a total failure in crisis management.

I’m currently hiding my face deep in my hood. The truth is, my parents’ DNA is kind of terrifying. I mean, the first time I saw my own face in a water mirror, I literally froze in shock. No judgment.

My dad’s a worrywart. He carries me around constantly, terrified I’ll get kidnapped. Well, sure, with our height difference, I guess he has no choice.

Mom’s technically “around,” I suppose. But she’s a spirit, so she’s invisible.

She’s watching over my dad from the throne of the Spirit World, using a water mirror. And yes, Mom is the Queen of the Spirit World—she’s the one who binds all spirits into one.

The one who governs the primordial force of this world can appear in the human realm for a short while without issue, but staying too long reportedly causes massive disturbances in the surroundings. So whenever Father calls Mother, she’s waiting by the water mirror—no, not stalking, just… waiting, ready to rush over at once.

I’m still young, so I’m fine with the influence of my power, but thanks to the genes I inherited from my parents, I’ve always had this unnatural, almost artificial face—lacking any real human warmth.

Whenever humans see me, they all go stiff, dazed, then reach out with their fingers toward my eyes, like they’re checking if they’re made of gems. It’s terrifying.

"Looks like they’re gonna chase after us."

"They’ll definitely follow."

Father shuddered—something must’ve happened before—and then lifted me again, walking on.

"Aww, I should’ve wiped their memories before this whole mess started."

My father, saying something utterly heartless, still stood there with that same careless air.

We, who’d completely forgotten he’d once been a hero, immediately reported his return to the upper echelons—completely forgetting the nationwide frenzy it would spark.

Now, with wanted posters circulating, we’d be spotted and chased relentlessly until we dropped from exhaustion.