I Have A Damn Family Again - Chapter 98

Chapter 98: The Crumpled Report Card (3)

A warm current had briefly flowed between mother and son, a moment of shared understanding, a flicker of connection.

But that warmth, fleeting and fragile, had vanished, replaced by an icy chill emanating from Carsein.

A single gesture, a subtle rejection of her touch.

Startled, Isabella tried again, her voice laced with concern.

"Did my words upset you, Carsein?”
“Not at all, Mother. You were absolutely right.”
“…I see.”

His initial reaction, that instinctive flinch, had made her question his sincerity, his willingness to accept her guidance.

But his words, his acknowledgment of his mistake, were genuine, a stark contrast to his previous behavior.

He’d matured, grown into a young man capable of accepting criticism without resorting to childish outbursts, his defiance replaced by a quiet understanding.

And his response, a simple confirmation, devoid of any excuses or justifications… There was no reason for further concern.

‘Perhaps I’m being too sensitive.’

She shook her head, dismissing her anxieties.

Her hand, initially reaching out to caress his cheek, a mother’s instinct to comfort, shifted course, gently stroking his arm instead.

“Carsein, the truth is… that allowance is a trivial sum to us. We could easily cover it with the profits from our various ventures. I merely wished to instill a sense of financial responsibility in you, so please, don’t take my words to heart.”
“As I said before, Mother, I’m not upset.”
“Good. You’ve become quite mature.”

Yes, he was different now.

Gone was the boy who’d demanded control of his finances, who’d lashed out at any perceived injustice, who’d resented his sisters’ freedom, their privileged status.

Carsein, her son, had grown, transformed, his childish insecurities replaced by a newfound confidence.

Reassured, her anxieties eased, she finally felt comfortable addressing a more sensitive topic.

“The Eastern Nobles' Conference… I won’t be able to offer direct assistance, I’m afraid. But don’t worry, Carsein. Your sisters will guide you. They’ll make sure you succeed.”

While Arina had declared her intention to prevent his participation, her resolve, Isabella knew, wouldn’t be absolute. She’d already taken steps to ensure his success, pulling strings behind the scenes, manipulating the system in his favor.

With his sisters’ guidance, with her own subtle maneuvering, Carsein would undoubtedly overcome this challenge.

But there was one issue, one lingering concern, that needed to be addressed.

“Carsein, try not to dwell on Shatrain. Focus on your own task, on proving yourself at the conference. Everything else is irrelevant.”

Shatrain, a shadow cast upon their family, a reminder of past failures, a potential trigger for Carsein’s anxieties, his insecurities.

She needed to alleviate his fears, to offer reassurance.

“While things didn’t go as planned, Claire is using a portion of her earnings from her boutique to provide financial aid to the territory. We’ve managed to keep things quiet, so don’t worry. Focus on your preparations for the conference.”

A portion of Claire’s earnings, channeled into Shatrain, a steady stream of support, a temporary solution until the territory recovered, until the villagers’ anger subsided.

And then, Carsein, his voice a quiet murmur, spoke, his words a strange echo from the past.

“This reminds me of a memory. You were tending to your plants here, in the conservatory.”
“Watering the plants…?”
“I… I dug a hole in your garden, Mother. Do you remember?”
“Well… yes, I remember, but…”

Why was he bringing this up? That day, with her daughters presenting their report cards, a happy memory… a stark contrast to his current mood, his somber tone.

Isabella, her brow furrowed with confusion, her sentence trailing off, waited for an explanation.

“I dug that hole because I wanted to bury my report card. It was disgraceful.”

***

Carsein's report card, a collection of perfect scores, a flawless testament to his intelligence, his diligence, his difference.

His sisters, their report cards filled with a smattering of mistakes, a reflection of their age, their educational level, their privilege.

But comparing them, their accomplishments, their achievements, was a pointless exercise.

Simple arithmetic couldn't be compared to quadratic equations, logarithmic functions, and even those paled in comparison to calculus, statistics, vectors. Their educational levels, their areas of expertise, were vastly different.

But what about Carsein? His report card, a collection of perfect scores, achieved despite the challenges he faced, the barriers he'd overcome, the limited time he'd been given…

He’d surpassed his sisters, his achievements a testament to his raw talent, his unwavering determination.

And that report card, a symbol of his victory, a trophy earned through sheer grit, a testament to his ability to thrive even in the most unfavorable conditions…

This was it.

Carsein, deserving of praise, of recognition, of something… had chosen to bury his accomplishments, to hide his brilliance from those who’d never appreciate it, never understand the effort he'd put forth.

The words on that crumpled piece of paper, far from disgraceful, were a testament to his unwavering spirit, his refusal to be defined by their limitations.

And so, I would lie.

His family, his tormentors, wouldn’t understand, wouldn't appreciate his efforts. They didn't deserve to know. He needed to protect himself, to shield his vulnerability from their judgment.

At least, that’s what I believed.

“You buried your report card because you were ashamed?”

Isabella, shaking her head, reached for his hand, her own fingers intertwining with his, a gesture of comfort, of understanding.

“Everyone makes mistakes, Carsein. We all stumble, we all struggle, especially when it comes to learning. And I’m not going to judge you, not for trying, not for wanting to achieve something.”

She wouldn’t punish him, not this time. Not for this.

“The Eastern Nobles’ Conference must have been difficult for you. I’ll speak to Arina, explain the situation. She’ll understand.”

-Ding!

[ 1. Please, do tell Arina. Tell her I’m concerned about my participation rights. ]
[ 2. Speak to Claire instead. She’s the one sending those funds to Shatrain. ]
[ 3. It’s not necessary, Mother. ]

The correct answer, based on my previous playthroughs, was the second option.

The system, in its cryptic way, would sometimes offer hints, subtle clues hidden within seemingly innocuous choices.

If Shatrain, a territory struggling to recover from Carsein’s disastrous decisions, was receiving no assistance it would trigger a death flag, a chain of events leading to his downfall.

Therefore, the second choice, the one that highlighted Claire’s involvement, her financial support, was the optimal path.

Seeking Claire’s assistance, her influence, her willingness to clean up Carsein’s messes, was the most logical solution.

But I chose a different path.

[ 3. It’s not necessary, Mother. ] ☑

“It’s not necessary, Mother.”
“…Carsein?”
“What’s the point of relying on Arina and Claire? If I need their help to pass this test then I’ll never evolve. I’ll be forever trapped in this cycle of dependence.”
“Carsein…”
“And Mother, your assistance is not needed either.”

I gently pushed her hand away, my gaze meeting hers, my voice gaining strength with each word.

“This is my responsibility. If I can’t even improve my own standing then I’m not worthy of anything. And the same applies to this situation. If I need to rely on House Bagrand, on the influence of others, then I’ll never change, will I?”

Isabella’s lips, parting as if to speak, then closed again, her expression shifting from concern to something else… a flicker of respect, perhaps?

The system, its choices a map, its hints a compass, had guided me to this point. There was no hesitation, no doubt.

“Those funds Claire is sending to Shatrain… let me to take over the responsibility, Mother.”
“What? What are you…!”
“I need to repay those debts, Mother. My allowance is ultimately still your money. And Claire… she’s using her own funds to cover up my mistakes. It’s only right that I handle this myself.”
“But Carsein, you’ll lose everything. Your allowance won’t be enough. Claire is sending a substantial sum.”

Shatrain, on the brink of collapse, its economy in shambles.

Those funds, a lifeline, a desperate attempt to prevent a complete meltdown, would require a significant sacrifice on Carsein’s part. His allowance, his only source of income, would be depleted.

But I didn't care. It was their money, money I owed, a debt I needed to repay.

“Consider it punishment, Mother.”
“Punishment…? Carsein, you…”
“I’ll earn my participation rights, and I’ll pass that test, on my own. I’m not going to be a burden any longer. I’m not going to be a parasite feeding off House Bagrand.”

I excused myself, my task completed, my message delivered.

Isabella, her voice silent, her gaze fixed on me, offered no further protest. And as I turned to leave, the status window, a faithful companion, appeared, its message a confirmation of my unconventional approach.

-Ding!

▶ Hidden Episode: The Crumpled Report Card Cleared! ◀
▶ You have successfully triggered an outcome exceeding the given choices! ◀

■ Reward
[ ??? ]

‘Another Hidden Episode.’

I hadn’t even realized it had begun, this unexpected quest, its challenges hidden, its completion a surprise.

The reward, question marks, a blank slate, a mystery to be unravelled. My actions, my rejection of Isabella’s offer of support, my refusal to rely on Arina and Claire, had triggered this… unique outcome.

But that blank slate, that empty space, was a reward in itself.

A subtle confirmation that I was moving in the right direction, that my efforts to sever those ties, to break free from the clutches of House Bagrand, were succeeding.

Honestly, it was the most satisfying reward I’d received so far.

Even if it was a bittersweet victory, a painful reminder of my own past, my own foolish pursuit of acceptance, of validation.

My gaze shifted towards the progress window, its message a reminder of the unfinished business at hand.

▶ “Luxury is a Sin” event in progress. ◀
▶ Proceed to Arina’s office and engage in conversation. ◀

‘Ah, right. Arina’s the one who handles this event, isn’t she?’

My encounter with Isabella in the conservatory hadn’t cleared the event.

Which meant another unpleasant experience awaited me.

My annoyance, fueled by a surge of misplaced emotion, quickly faded, replaced by a familiar numbness. I dismissed those lingering feelings, pushing them aside, focusing on the task at hand, and exited the conservatory.

And then…

A hand, its grip firm, latched onto my arm, preventing my escape.

“Carsein, why did you do that?”

Pink hair, fiery eyes, a familiar scowl.

Claire.

What was she doing here? This event, its resolution, involved Arina, not her.

And then, the status window, as if sensing my confusion, reappeared.

-Ding!

▶ Hidden Reward Revealed! ◀

■ Reward
[ You will receive assistance from an unexpected source in the next event. ]
[ This effect has allowed Claire to overhear your conversation with Isabella! ]

‘She overheard us…’

▶ The revealed reward has triggered an additional event! ◀
▶ This event may affect Claire’s Affinity. ◀
[ Current Affinity: 47% ]

The system, ever the puppet master, had thrown another wrench into the works, adding an unexpected layer of complexity.

This event, this encounter with Claire hadn’t existed in my previous playthroughs. I had no information to guide me, no pre-determined path to follow, no idea how to navigate this conversation, her hand still gripping my arm, her eyes demanding an explanation.

But Claire’s eavesdropping wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

I’d simply repeat my answer, my justification, my refusal to rely on their assistance.

-Ding!

Her expression, mirroring Isabella’s, was a mixture of concern and disapproval. She had something to say, her words likely echoing her mother’s lecture, her disappointment evident.

“What is it this time, Claire?”

I met her gaze, my expression neutral, waiting for her to speak.

“You idiot! Why didn’t you just tell Mother the truth?!”

Her voice, sharp, laced with frustration, pierced the silence.

“You used your allowance to buy that Lusmire territory! If you’d just told her, she wouldn’t have scolded you! You knew that, didn’t you?!”

Her tone, as expected, was less than pleasant. But her words weren’t filled with condemnation, but with… concern?

Then, this was the correct response.

[ 1. Why do you even care? ] ☑

“Why do you even care, Claire?”