Accidentally become a father Chapter 33: The Definition of Ordinary

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Stepping out from behind the cream curtain, the serious nine-year-old surveyor was suddenly replaced by a little girl trying to figure out what "ordinary" really ant.

Yuna stepped out.

The uniform was a good fit.

The skirt fell neatly. The white top was still a bit loose.

She stood in front of the mirror.

Adjusting the pleats of the skirt.

Tugging slightly at the waist.

She turned her body slowly.

A spin she didn’t realize she was doing.

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I watched her.

She stopped abruptly when she realized I was looking.

"It doesn’t look weird, right?"

"No."

"Does it not look... too small?"

"You are small."

She stared at .

"That is not what I ant."

"You look like a schoolgirl."

She was quiet for a few seconds.

Then she looked back at the mirror.

Her hand touched the chest of the top. Smoothing out a crease that was already perfectly neat.

"I look ordinary."

"That is the point of a uniform."

She turned her head slightly.

"Is ordinary a good thing?"

"For school? Yes."

She processed the answer.

Then she gave a small nod.

"I will take two."

"We will buy two."

She went back into the fitting room.

A few minutes later, she stepped out in her original clothes.

We moved on to the casual wear racks.

This was where the colors began their assault.

Soft sweaters with cat prints.

Cardigans with small floral patterns.

T-shirts with cute phrases.

Yuna stopped in front of a cream sweater featuring a tiny character holding an umbrella.

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She held the edge of its sleeve.

Pressing the fabric with her thumb.

Soft.

She looked at the price tag.

Then looked away.

"We need loungewear," I said.

"Yes."

"Sothing comfortable."

"Yes."

She was still holding the sweater.

"If you can stand looking at it for more than ten seconds," I said quietly, "it ans you like it."

She turned her head quickly.

"I was only checking the material."

"You have been checking it for twenty seconds."

She looked back at the sweater.

"...That is not efficient."

"Comfort isn’t about efficiency."

She fell silent.

Then, without a word, she took the sweater and went back into the fitting room.

The curtain swayed gently, leaving in a few seconds of silence, wondering if the girl who treated shopping like a military operation would finally let her guard down for a tiny character holding an umbrella.

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