UltSans continued eating, not rushing, not dragging—just letting the food settle as he observed the room.
For once, things were… calm.
No weird conversations.
No unnecessary interruptions.
Just quiet eating.
And after a short moment—he finished.
Then—he waited.
Luckily, nothing else seemed to be happening.
No one pushed him into another conversation.
No one forced unnecessary attention onto him.
He was able to just… sit there.
But that peace?
Didn't last long.
As soon as Eleanor finished her plate, she jumped up with surprising energy, collecting the dishes of those who were done.
She moved quickly, efficiently, barely giving anyone a chance to react before she was already rushing toward the kitchen.
UltSans watched her go, slightly intrigued.
Then—he turned toward Clara.
UltSans:"For her age… she moves pretty fast."
Then—he hesitated.
UltSans:"Wait—how old is your mother?"
Clara, who had just taken a sip of her wine, barely glanced at him before responding.
Clara:"She's—"
But before she could finish—
Eleanor's voice came ringing out from the kitchen.
Eleanor:"¡Vamos! ¡Ven a cocinarnos algo de España!"
UltSans sighed deeply, already regretting agreeing to this.
Then—without another word—
He teleported.
A flicker of red particles, and he was suddenly at the kitchen's entrance, standing in the doorway.
From there, he observed the space briefly before finally stepping inside.
As soon as UltSans disappeared into the kitchen, the energy in the dining room shifted slightly.
Melissa, ever the opportunist, immediately leaned forward, resting her chin in her palm.
Her eyes drifted lazily toward Clara, a smug smirk playing at her lips.
Melissa:"So… 'glorious, powerful, delightful god,' huh?~"
Clara froze.
Then—her entire face flushed.
Clara:"Shut up."
Melissa grinned wider.
Melissa:"Mmm~ Oh, don't be shy now, sis~. You seemed very confident about it earlier."
Richard, who had been watching all of this like it was the most entertaining thing in the world, chuckled.
Richard:"Can't lie, though. That's one hell of a way to describe a man."
Clara groaned, burying her face in her hands.
Clara:"I swear to God, I hate all of you."
Nathan, completely oblivious to the tension, simply looked between everyone in confusion.
Then—he tilted his head slightly.
Nathan:"Does this mean Aunt Clara likes him?"
Clara jerked her head up instantly.
Clara:"Nathan, honey, let's not start that conversation."
Nathan, still confused, frowned slightly.
Nathan:"But you do like him, right?"
Melissa let out an amused hum.
Melissa:"Oh, honey, she loves him~."
Clara, done with life, reached for her wine glass and drank aggressively.
Eleanor's voice could be heard faintly from the kitchen, talking excitedly to UltSans about recipes and ingredients.
But here?
The dining room had turned into a battlefield.
And Clara?
Was on the losing side.
Melissa leaned forward, her ever-present smirk dangerously playful as she set her eyes on Clara.
Melissa:"So, sis~..."
Clara exhaled sharply, rubbing her temples.
She already knew where this was going.
Something annoying. Something irritating.
Something that would make her regret even showing up tonight.
And sure enough—
Melissa's next words sent a sharp spike of irritation straight into her brain.
Melissa:"You don't mind sharing him for a night, right?~"
Clara's entire body stiffened.
Her eye twitched.
She was already done.
But before she could even snap back—
A small, innocent voice cut through the tension.
Nathan:"Mom, you like him?"
Melissa's smirk widened.
Without hesitation, she turned toward her son, her tone sweet, almost singsong.
Melissa:"Yes~."
Nathan blinked, processing.
Then—his little brows furrowed as he thought deeply.
Nathan:"Then… is he gonna be my new dad? Is he gonna be my aunt and dad?"
Melissa chuckled, clearly amused by the boy's logic.
She leaned back slightly, crossing her legs.
Melissa:"He may be your aunt~... Or he may be your new dad, sweetheart~."
Clara snapped her head toward her sister, glaring.
Clara:"I told you before—he's my man, not yours. What, did you divorce again or what?"
Melissa gave a casual shrug, as if the conversation meant nothing to her.
Melissa:"My last husband didn't satisfy me, but I got all I needed~... But now I'm hungry~."
Clara let out a slow, controlled breath through her nose.
She was not about to let this woman get under her skin.
But before she could respond—
Nathan's voice interrupted again.
His expression was completely serious.
Nathan:"Can he be my dad and my aunt?"
Clara groaned, pressing her fingers against her forehead.
She was so done.
Clara:"No, honey. Because your mom doesn't share. But—I wouldn't share either."
Melissa tilted her head slightly, grinning.
Melissa:"Mmm~ Sorry, sweetie. For him to be both, your aunt and I would have to share. And… well… we're both girls who need a man entirely for ourselves~."
Nathan looked mildly disappointed.
Nathan:"So… can he just be my dad then?"
Clara sighed—
And this time, it was borderline a growl.
Today was too much.
She had been working nonstop, got caught in a weird situation with UltSans, got teased by her mom, her dad, and now her sister.
And now her nephew wanted to give UltSans a permanent position in the family.
She lifted her glass.
And took a very, very long sip.
Melissa chuckled softly, clearly entertained.
Nathan?
Still waiting for an answer.
And Clara?
Was on the verge of losing her last bit of patience.
Clara finished her very, very long sip.
Correction—she finished the entire glass.
Not a single drop left.
She set it down on the table with a solid thunk, her expression unreadable.
Then—without a word, without acknowledging a single soul at the table—
She stood up.
And walked away.
Her pace was steady, controlled.
But there was an undeniable weight to the way she moved—
A weight that said, "I'm this close to losing it."
Melissa, Richard, and even Nathan watched her go, but no one stopped her.
She was too far gone for conversation.
Too far gone for reason.
And as she pushed open the kitchen door—
She stumbled straight into the impossible.
A portal.
Large. Swirling. Unnatural.
A familiar red energy crackled along its edges, flickering like static.
Clara halted immediately, staring at it.
For a moment, her fogged mind tried to process what she was looking at.
But then—
Without hesitation—
She walked forward.
Straight into it.
The moment she stepped through—
The air changed.
The scent of home-cooked food, warm wood, and something strangely comforting replaced the faint tension that had been suffocating her moments ago.
She was in a house.
Cozy. Simple.
She stood in what seemed to be a dining room, a round wooden table with chairs neatly arranged around it.
To her left, a long living room stretched out, a comfortable-looking sofa positioned near two pieces of furniture—one a normal table, and the other a larger stand with a TV resting on top.
At the far end of the room—stairs.
Leading up.
Clara slowly turned forward again.
Beyond the dining table, she could see a large open doorway—leading straight into a kitchen.
And there—in the kitchen—
UltSans.
Cooking.
Alongside Eleanor, who was chattering excitedly about ingredients.
Clara exhaled slowly.
She turned her head to the right, noticing a door leading somewhere unknown.
But she didn't care.
She didn't care about anything right now.
All she knew—
Was that she needed to let this all out.
She moved.
Her steps were quiet, but not hesitant.
As she entered the kitchen, UltSans and Eleanor were still focused on cooking, unaware of her presence.
And then—without warning—
She grabbed UltSans.
Firmly.
From behind.
UltSans stiffened instantly, blinking in surprise.
Before he could even turn to see who it was—
He felt himself being pulled.
Turned forcefully.
And then—
Lips crashed into his.
Hard.
Heat.
Pressure.
Intensity.
UltSans froze.
His mind—blank.
Clara?
Didn't care.
Didn't hesitate.
Didn't hold back.
She pushed further, deepening the kiss, her grip tightening on him.
UltSans could feel it—
The sheer frustration pouring into him through every movement.
The way she held him.
The way her lips moved—desperate, demanding.
Like she was trying to drown out everything else.
Slowly, as the shock faded, UltSans reacted.
His hands moved—hesitant at first—
Then found her waist.
Firm. Steady.
Holding her, grounding her.
But she didn't stop.
Didn't slow.
She was letting everything out in this one moment.
After what felt like forever, Clara finally broke the kiss.
A sharp inhale.
A heavy exhale.
She stared at him, her face flushed, eyes clouded.
And then—her voice, soft, bitter.
Clara:"Why do you have to be so beautiful?..."
UltSans blinked.
Clara:"Why do you have to be player one? I hate the way you always get the upper hand on me... Why do you have to tease like that?..."
She rested her forehead against his chest, her breath uneven.
Clara:"What a fucking morning… Fucking day… Fucking everything..."
Then—her voice lowered.
Barely a whisper.
Clara:"Do I have to have this fucking family? They're fucking bullsht… A fucking btch of a sister… Parents that ignore me, like I don't even exist to them… A little shit that only bothers me, and I only met that little shit today..."
She lifted her right hand, curling it into a fist.
Then—she dropped it.
Not a punch, not even a hit—
Just a weak impact against UltSans' shoulder.
Like a silent scream with no strength left.
UltSans hesitated.
Then—he sighed.
UltSans:"...Yeah, yeah... That's living with humans."
At first, Clara was silent.
Then—her fingers curled into his coat.
And she started sobbing.
Harder.
And harder.
Her entire body shaking with everything she had been holding in for too long.
UltSans hesitated—
Then, without thinking, he lifted her.
His right hand supporting her lower back, his left hand pressing against her back.
He held her firmly, securely—
Then—he started bouncing slightly.
Small, steady movements.
Like soothing a child.
His voice—low, soft, teasing.
UltSans:"Ssshhh… Your glorious, powerful, delightful god is here..."
Clara sniffled, her breathing uneven.
Slowly, she lifted her head.
Her eyes—swollen, glassy, locked onto his.
Then—a sharp, almost dangerous whisper.
Clara:"Don't you FUCKING dare be near my BITCH of a sister."
UltSans blinked once.
Then—he grinned.
UltSans:"Of course. I also hate her. Don't worry, I hate bitches."
Clara exhaled shakily, gripping him tighter.
Her breath slowed.
Her body softened against him.
And then—
Her eyes closed.
Her grip loosened.
Her breathing evened out.
And in the warmth of his hold—
She fell asleep.