" Aren't you eating?"
The father glared at the son's still chopsticks. The mother moved towards the dinner table, patted on the son who stared at his dinner as if he was lost, and smilingly intervened.
" Oh, I remember now that you didn't like meat. How forgetful I am! My bad."

" Stop being a spoilt kid."
The father snapped coldly.
" Your mother prepared this because she thinks it is good for your health. There are also children in the world who don't even have enough to eat. Being picky about food is bad in both meanings. -- Stop being picky."

" A lot has happened, and he must be hired, isn't he?"
The mother hugged his shoulders close, desparately hoping to bridge the gap.
" Oily food is too much for you, right? It is okay to just leave it."

" No.”
The father's voice turned even colder.
" Stop the special treatment. A lot is going to happen to this kid from now on. Nobody would even pity him, and everyone would gossip about him. It is for this kid's sake to be strict to him from now on."

" But..."
Paying no attention to the mother who stopped her sentence midway, the father fastened his gaze at him.
" Understand?"
" ...Yes. I am sorry."
He nodded, and moved his chopsticks to continue the dinner with all his might.

-- Of course, nobody knew that this was a definite harm to his treatment.

***

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