At the age of eighteen, I — Tran Duong — was kicked out of my home. Simple as that. My parents thought: "At eighteen, a man must learn to stand on his own." And just like that, with only a backpack and a bit of pocket change, I was left to wander in this strange, parallel world I had crossed into two months ago.
Just as I was aimlessly walking down a quiet street, fate led me to meet her.
She was fumbling in front of a convenience store, her big round eyes blinking like a lost kitten, holding a huge bag of food. There was a smear of cream on her cheek, making her look both pitiful and... incredibly cute.
"Hey, do you know how to get to District D?" she asked, her eyes wide with innocence.
Looking at her face, which was covered with cream and gleaming with such childlike naivety, my heart melted. It felt as if I had found something I had lost long ago.
"Sorry, I’m new here too..." I sighed.
She pouted for a moment, then suddenly seemed to have a brilliant idea, her face lighting up.
"Then how about you bring me to your place? I don’t have anywhere to stay!"
Five minutes later, I — a homeless wanderer — became the unsuspecting host of a small apartment… along with my "little sister."
Her name was An Nian. A name that perfectly matched the way she smiled all day long.
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After some fighting with a broken stove, I managed to serve up a simple meal. An Nian sat cross-legged on the floor, sneakily slipping something into my bowl before pretending to cough.
I eyed her suspiciously but brushed it off, thinking it was just some childish prank. We began our first meal together as a "little family."
But right after finishing, something felt... off. My body started burning up, my heart raced uncontrollably, and my head spun. In front of me, An Nian was giggling, her face flushed with what seemed like excitement.
"Duong, are you okay? Your face is as red as a tomato!" she said, tilting her head in concern.
Before I could answer, a wave of strange emotions overwhelmed me, and before I knew it, I couldn’t control myself. I stumbled toward her, collapsing onto the mattress with her beneath me.
"Ahh, what are you doing?!" An Nian screamed, her hands flailing in panic. But rather than pushing me off, she just giggled, as if this game were much more fun than I could understand.
"I... I’m not okay..." I stammered.
Then, everything went blank.
…
The next morning, I woke up with a pounding headache. My body was bare, wrapped in nothing but a thin blanket. Beside me, An Nian lay curled up, her messy hair falling over her face, still holding onto the corner of my shirt.
I shot up, panicking. What the hell happened?!
An Nian rubbed her eyes, waking up groggily. When she saw our situation, her face turned beet red.
"Duong..." she murmured, her voice trembling. "You... you have to take responsibility for me now."
I froze.
"Wait, wait!" I stammered, trying to explain. "We didn’t... didn’t do anything, right?!"
An Nian paused, then nodded seriously:
"I don’t remember... but I know you fell on top of me, and we fell asleep right after. But... you were on top of me all night!"
My face turned pale.
An Nian thought for a moment, then nodded as if she had come to a conclusion:
"My parents said, if a guy spends the whole night on top of a girl, he has to marry her!"
I widened my eyes.
"Hold on! How did you jump straight from 'take responsibility' to 'marry'?!"
"Well, my parents taught me that!"
I sighed. What a ridiculous, adorable girl.
An Nian looked up at me, her eyes wide and eager, as if waiting for me to say something.
With a gentle smile, I patted her head.
"Alright, I’ll take responsibility."
An Nian’s eyes sparkled, and before I could react, she threw herself at me, wrapping her arms around me with a huge grin.
"Yay! From now on, I’m your wife!"
"Wait! Who gave you the right to jump straight to ‘wife’?!"
"My parents did!"
I sighed again. She really was hopeless.
But... she was my hopeless little girl.
