Thinking back, it's been like this since we were kids.

I don't even remember when it started.

The woman who called herself my mother dumped me at the orphanage and vanished.

That's where I met you.

Anyway, you were a handful even back then.

Always trailing behind me. The moment I took my eyes off you, you'd trip somewhere and start wailing. Especially when you cried asking when your mom and dad were coming...

Sigh.

You probably knew too.

That there was no one coming to get us.

But I couldn't bring myself to say that to your crying face, so I just grumbled instead.

Telling you to stop crying, telling you to go cry in a corner because you were being too loud.

So maybe it started from then.

Even after becoming adults, we stayed together.

We couldn't have the normalcy that everyone else has, but at least we had each other.

You were... how should I put it? Like my own kid. Like someone I just had to raise.

That's why I always made you stay home and tried my best to get you an extra meal whenever I came back from work.

...Damn it, I shouldn't have done that.

Maybe I spoiled you too much.

This brat got so pampered that now you don't even try to earn money; you just stick to my side like glue.

I honestly feel like beating you sometimes. I don't know if this is paternal instinct or what.

Well, whatever. As long as you're happy, I guess that's enough, right?