"Ahem!" Lilly kicked Mr Terror on his knee, making him mutter insults instead of nonsense. "Sorry about that, but you know him... we've hired you for so many jobs after all."
Klaire looked away, trying to contemplate a reply while stopping her memories from overflowing. "You don't have to... to! Apologise, Mrs Terror." She said between sobs. "It just reminded me of my parents... that's all!"
Lilly pulled Klaire into a bear hug, crying alongside her. "I'm sorry too... You are my daughter if I ever had a sexy, colored husband." She wailed.
"HEY!" Mr Terror hugged both of them. "I didn't say sexy." He also started wailing.
"Now, Mom has gone too far," Metelda rolled her eyes, stretching out her spine like a cat.
"Let me in!" Junior tried to join the hug.
"As a sister." MMrTerror's words made Junior reconsider the hug.
"Want me to carry you for the family hug?" Tsuna offered Metelda.
Metelda flipped around, a frown etched on her face. "As much as I would like the visual of that! There's an intruder in our mix."
"Smart ass!" Tsuna flicked Metelda's forehead, forcing her to concentrate on her instead. "If you're so smart, tell me why she isn't bleeding us dry when she had so many chances to do so?"
"She's dumb like the rest of you?"
Tsuna flicked her head once again. "Don't be a brat. Think for once."
Tsuna's implications annoyed Metelda; Not much because they were a hundred percent true, but because now she had to waste energy acknowledging said reason.
As her grandmother mentioned, Metelda wasn't just smart, she was a smart ass: a slang term for genius. Metelda did the math andconcludedn within seconds: "Took what was necessary to… survive!"
"Not bad, kiddo," Tsuna smirked. "Wanting nothing to do with anyone might be your dream. It's stupid—sure—but I get it, and I respect it, and you for going after what you want."
She sighed and turned to Klaire, and an unseen heaviness immediately settled over her shoulders. "But hers… hers is the exact opposite of yours."
Disgust tightened Tsuna's chest, tugging a frown onto her lips as she looked back at Metelda. "In short, she wants what you're so carelessly trying to throw away. Watch."
She pointed toward Klaire, who had drifted away from the family, now addressing them with honorifics and offering deep bows reserved for elders—not loved ones.
"Poor thing," Tsuna murmured. "She's terrified of getting any closer."
Metelda sat upright, for the first time seeing Klaire in a new light. "What is she so scared of?"
"I don't know her history, child." Tsuna wiped her eyes, startled to find a teardrop latching onto her sleeve. "But from the way she carries herself… I know no one should've endured something like that—at any age."
Time moved; moments passed without waiting for anyone, and a sinking feeling tightened around Metelda's heart. She tried walking it off, hoping the heaviness would slip away. Yet it only clung tighter the closer she drew to Klaire.
The chance to join the hug had already vanished; its warmth dissolved. She could no longer reclaim its essence, and for the first time, she regretted her meticulous steps.
Her own mind felt like a burden. She cursed her inability to act as freely, as stupidly as the others…
But maybe there was another path?
"Come." She extended a hand toward Klaire; the moment stretched awkwardly, and her outstretched hand faltered into a casual wave.
What's wrong with you? Metelda scolded her hands for defying orders and stuffing themselves into her pockets.
Another precious moment slipped past… widening the gap and tugging at her chest deeper into a quiet, unlit room inside herself that felt lonely in a way it never had before.
"Let me show you to your room," she said without thinking, and turned quickly, walking ahead before the weight in her voice could betray her.
Awkwardness, built-up tension, anonymity, and even a hint of enmity have a strange way of dissolving during a shared meal. Sure, it usually requires an extrovert's expertise at stirring a situation, and a slightly open heart willing to tolerate the annoying premise. Still, even a cluster of introverts, or in the Terrors' case, people terrified of stepping on anyone's toes, can be coerced into resolving their differences by enduring enough meal-time sessions.
After countless breakfasts, lunches, dinners, and the occasional snacks consumed in uncomfortably close proximity around a gorgeous antique round table, they finally reached a treaty: Trip the other only and only if a ghost is involved.
Dear old Dad never clarified whether "trip" meant snapping someone out of their daydream or shoving them into the ghost, so the rule remained open for interpretation and anticipation.
Metelda dabbled in the true meaning of tripping someone, but gave up on the idea, as she might not have enough energy afterwards to enjoy the results.
Junior wasn't sure he even had the guts to stand, much less push someone else to run. Family, friend, or crush, it didn't matter; his gaze still drifted to Klaire, the only one among them who wanted to see a ghost.
Whenever the unknown, supernatural, or unnatural was mentioned, her ears perked like a cat finally paying attention, so Junior always kept a stash of tiny article slips in his pockets. And like a dealer discreetly sliding product to a willing customer, he slipped Klaire hours' worth of obsessive research, one slip at a time. Research that, admittedly, might be the reason he died someday. Yet instead of stopping, Junior only dug deeper, venturing into places no sane person would willingly tread.
"Heard there was another UFO sighting," Junior said between bites.
Before Junior went any further, Metelda flicked a chunk of hot dog from her bowl of spaghetti into his mouth, choking the nonsense topic at its bud.
She also wanted to say, "and that's how he looked during the research," pointing and laughing at Junior's soul leaving him, but decided to conserve her energy for a better cause.
"I got this," said Tsuna, placing the end of her walking stick into Junior's mouth and tapping the handle to shove the meatball deeper.
"What's wrong with you!" Yelled Lilly.
"Relax." Tsuna waved her down. "It's either down or out, both of which can be accomplished by what I did." She laughed, her dentures slipping and falling into her soup with a bloop sound. "Oops, can't eat this anymore!"
"One came out of crap, and the other is going in to become some. I think we are safe," said Lilly.
"Let's all take a breather." Mumbled Mr Terror. "Not the alcohol." He eyed Junior. "We all need to stay active until we are in this house."
"Which is until..." Klaire raised her eyebrow in anticipation.
MMrTerror shrugged. "I get visas for another country?"
"We are not leaving our country." Lilly's glare ended the discussion.
"Forgot about me!" Tsuna bonked Mr Terror on the head with her cane. "I can't leave this country under my name!"
"Maybe it's not such a bad idea." Lilly flipped her decision. "A..." she counted Tsuna's wrinkles. "Couple more years, and we can start circling our country."
"People need more than a couple to forget what I've done." Tsuna chuckled, fishing out her dentures.
"Sad the same won't be true for you when the devil comes for your soul."
Mr Terror ignored the situation he could never resolve and focused on Klaire. "You'd think a month would make them behave." He rolled his eyes at the duo, chuckling.
"Nearly," Coughed Klaire, reminding him there was still time.
'A month of free food and a bed without a single ghost in sight.' Metelda kept the reminder to herself, saving it for when someone asked an even more imbecilic question—one worthy of the perfect retort she had to waste precious energy on.
"Why don't you come with me to the cafe from tomorrow?" Tsuna reached out for different strings to annoy Lilly. "Make some cash while these cheapskates use you as a ghost detector in the night. Ghosts are known to be active only then, aren't they?" Her words ripped MMrTerror's heart in two.
"No!" He yelled, smacking the table with all his might.
To their surprise, the table didn't so much as make a sound, absorbing the impact like a sponge.
"I swear I am stronger than this..." his eyes teared up. "The table... it's... just—too darn strong." He held his wrist and sat back down, bowing and apologising to the table.
Klaire scooped some ice from a bucket; She'd stocked up on ice ever since her second day in the Terror Mansion, only to quickly realize that the bucket wasn't nearly enough. Now she had them stashed all over the place, ready for the hourly incidents that came with living among the Terrors.
The family was a walking hazard, injuring themselves and everyone within a five-meter radius. Klaire had used the ice for bruises, sprains, bumps, emotional cooldowns, and the occasional post-Terror mental recovery. She had gotten better at dodging and keeping the Terrors out of danger, but she was nowhere near Metelda's level of proficiency.
Metelda was almost always the unforeseen scarer; her silent steps and uncanny stillness placing her in spots no sane person expected another human to be. Yet somehow, her presence also soothed the family. Either they were terrified of her, or they were overly confident that no ghost dared come near while she was around.
"Thanks." Said Mr Terror, applying the ice.
"Maybe a few more days." Klaire bowed, politely refusing Tsuna.
"I'm not taking no for an answer." Said Tsuna.
"Really! For a life full of regrets and rejections, one might assume you'd learnt—or accepted." Lilly mumbled with a mouth full of spaghetti.
"Be careless." Tsuna rubbed the tip of her walking stick. "Oh, please be careless... I have measures to ensure your safety." She giggled ominously.
Lilly chewed louder, swallowed, and showed off her teeth by clicking them together.
"A bit harder, and they might come out."
"Said no one to you ever." Lilly snorted, a noodle popping out of her nostrils.
"You." Tsuna pointed at Klaire. "Cafe. Tomorrow." She ordered.
Mr Terror looked terrified at Lilly. "Why am I being punished for whatever is happening between..." He waved a trembling hand between her and Tsuna.
"If only you grew some balls," Lilly said, sniffing away.
Metelda finally straightened. The day was winding down, and the retorts she'd been storing all afternoon needed an exit. Thanks to her family's constant chaos, she had the perfect opening to drop her remarks and disappear.
"Someone needs to get laid," she said, nodding toward Lilly. "Someone isn't getting any for a while," she added, shaking her head at dear old Dad, her eyes later sliding toward Junior. "Destined to be single and miserable," she continued the motion to glance at Klaire and Tsuna.
"Ew—"
The sound came out flat, dismissive, and profoundly offended, with Metelda walking away as if she'd taken out the trash.
———<>||<>——— End of Chapter Forty-Seven. ———<>||<>———