After our time at the park, Elena and I strolled down the Easter-lit street.
The road was alive with color—paper lanterns hanging above us like stars that decided to stay out a little longer, bunny-
shaped balloons wobbling in the breeze, and the smell of warm sugar and butter pouring out from every corner.
We stopped near a bakery. Its windows were lined with cakes, pies, and pastel-wrapped chocolates.
Elena's eyes sparkled like she was seeing magic for the first time.
"Papa! Look! Those bunnies are smiling at me!" she giggled, pressing her face to the glass.
I chuckled. "Maybe they are. I wouldn't blame them."
But the sweetness broke all at once.
"You little rats again?!"
The voice hit like a crack of thunder.
An old man—probably the bakery owner—stormed out, dragging two children by the arms. One was a small boy, the other a timid girl. They looked barely five. Dusty, worn-out clothes. Fear all over their faces.
He shoved them onto the pavement. "Trying to scam me with fake money? You think I bake this stuff for fun?!"
Elena clung to my leg. Hard.
I could feel her heartbeat pulsing through her grip.
She didn't say a word, but her silence screamed louder than anything.
I stepped forward.
"Hey—what happened?"
The man pointed, fuming. "These kids came in here asking for cake, pizza, and even Easter eggs. Had the nerve to hand me fake notes. They're from that damn NGO down the street. No respect."
I glanced at the notes. They were drawings—paper cutouts scribbled with crayon. They weren't trying to scam anyone.
I crouched in front of the kids.
The boy was trembling. Still trying to act strong in front of his little sister.
"I just… wanted to celebrate Easter," he whispered. "No one at the shelter does anything. I just thought… maybe I could bring back a cake. Just this once."
His sister held his sleeve, trying not to cry.
My throat tightened.
"I see."
I didn't say anything at first.
Instead, I leaned back slightly, letting my gaze drift toward the bakery window. The glow of pastel decorations, the scent of warm bread—it all reminded me of a time I tried so hard to forget.
I remembered sitting alone in an orphanage room. Watching other kids get picked up for holidays. Watching chocolate eggs passed around by strangers… but never to me. I remembered holding onto hope that someone—anyone—would bring me something. But they never did.
I hated Easter.
Because I always found myself alone in it.
I looked down at the boy, then to the little girl behind him clinging to his sleeve.
I turned to the old man and pulled out my wallet.
"Take whatever's needed. And add a little extra."
He hesitated, then slowly nodded.
I handed the kids a small box of treats, warm from the oven.
"Here," I said softly, "Happy Easter."
Their faces lit up like the sky had just turned on again.
And as we watched them, hand in hand, I felt Elena slip her small fingers into mine.
"Papa," she whispered, "can we do something for them too?"
I looked down at her. Her eyes were still wide, but not from wonder this time—from something deeper.
Love.
"Yes," I said. "We'll make something together. Something real. Let's make this Easter theirs too."
"Come on," I said softly to kids. "Let's go make you the best Easter ever."
Their eyes widened like they'd just heard magic.
"For real?! Really?!" the boy shouted, grabbing my hand with both of his tiny ones.
"Yaaay!" the little girl squealed, jumping in place. "Thank you, Onii-chan! Thank you!"
Elena, who had been watching quietly from beside me, gently tugged my sleeve.
"Papa… are they coming with us?"
I nodded and smiled, ruffling her hair. "Yeah. We're going to give them a proper Easter."
And so, with two extra little guests in tow, we walked toward the NGO.
The streets were still dressed in pastel lights and Easter banners. I could feel the warmth in the air—not from the spring sun, but from the laughter behind me.
The children were talking about what food they wanted to try, what colors they'd paint their eggs, and who could eat the most chocolate.
At one point, the little boy tried to show off by hopping like a bunny across the sidewalk… only to trip over his own foot and nearly faceplant into a bush.
"Oi, careful!" I laughed, catching him just in time.
"Hehe, sorry, Onii-chan… I'm still training to be the fastest bunny."
Elena giggled. "You're gonna need a lot of training!"
I couldn't help but laugh too. The sound… it was light. Easy.
And something in my chest felt just a little bit less heavy.
When we reached the NGO, I took a deep breath.
"Alright," I said, holding the door open for them, "let's make this Easter one you'll never forget."
Ngo caretaker were thanking me for helping them.
The kids ran inside, cheering like it was Christmas morning.
And just like that…
My hatred for Easter began to melt away.
The moment we reached the NGO, I didn't waste time.
I pulled out my phone and placed a massive order from the online grocery—meat, vegetables, cream, flour, sugar, spices, chocolates… everything I could think of. It nearly cleared out my savings, but I didn't hesitate. Not even once.
This time, no child would be left out.
There were sixty kids in total. Sixty tiny souls, wide-eyed with hope and excitement. Some clung shyly to the corners of the hall, others peeked from behind curtains.
But when the boxes arrived—when the scent of fresh ingredients began filling the air—they all came closer, one by one.
"Alright," I clapped my hands. "Who's ready to cook the best Easter dinner ever?"
The room erupted with cheers.
Elena raised her hand, beaming in her chef's cape.
The two kids from earlier stood proudly by my side, grinning like they'd been accepted into a secret club.
We split into groups.
I handled the lamb roast and chicken—juicy, slow-cooked, seasoned with rosemary and garlic. Some kids helped peel vegetables, while others stirred sauces, their tiny arms wobbling with effort.
Elena took charge of desserts, managing a brigade of sugar-fueled bakers. Laughter echoed in the kitchen as flour flew into the air like snow.
"Papa! he put salt in the chocolate!"
"Because she put raisins in the stew!"
It was chaos. Beautiful, noisy, loving chaos.
Ngo take care were smiling.
While the meat roasted, I handed out boxes of colorful Easter eggs and decorating kits.
"Make them your own," I told them. "However you like."
And they did. Some drew hearts. Others scribbled silly faces. One egg even had a poorly drawn version of me with messy hair and giant ears.
I laughed so hard I nearly dropped the tray.
As the sun began to set, the dining hall was filled with laughter, dancing shadows, and the smell of real food. Not canned, not donated, not leftover.
Real. Warm. Made with love.
I stood by the doorway for a moment, arms crossed, watching them eat, laugh, and be loud. And my heart—
For once, it didn't ache. It overflowed.
This… this is how we spent our Easter dinner—with the NGO kids.
Somewhere in that warm, chaotic room… I found peace.
This time, I wasn't alone.
This time, Easter didn't hurt.
And maybe—just maybe—this was what it always should've felt like.
Midnight
We finally reached home. The sky was deep, ink-black—stars blinking like distant thoughts.
Elena had fallen asleep on my back during the walk, her tiny arms wrapped around my neck, her cheek resting on my shoulder. I carried her the whole way.
Quietly. Gently. She'd earned her dreams tonight.
But my heart? It was pounding.
I didn't know what kind of storm was waiting for me behind that door. Erza wasn't the type to just let things slide. Not after disappearing all day without a single message. Not on a holiday like this,
But she is the one who kicked me out.
Still, I came prepared.
I had an Easter egg I made just for her, tucked away safely. Maybe it's not enough.
But it held everything I couldn't say out loud.
I opened the door carefully.
It wasn't locked.
The second I stepped inside, I froze.
Flour was *everywhere*—on the floors, on the walls, even on the ceiling fan. Cocoa powder stained the countertops.
Chocolate trailed like battle scars across the kitchen. It looked like someone had tried to perform alchemy… and failed. Horribly.
And there it was.
Right in the middle of the living room sofa—
A crooked little basket.
Filled with hand-made Easter eggs. Uneven, clumsy, completely Erza.
My chest tightened.
She actually made this… for me?
I tiptoed into the bedroom. Erza was there, passed out on the bed, still wearing her apron.
Her hands had dried chocolate stuck to her fingers. She looked like a battlefield.
But to me…
She looked beautiful.
I laid Elena gently on the bed beside her, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
Then I walked back into the living room and picked up one of the eggs. It was bent at the edges, almost collapsing on itself—but it was warm in my hand.
I took a bite.
And my eyes stung.
Not from spice. Not from bitterness. But from something deeper.
It was sweet. Simple. Honest.
The kind of thing you only make for someone you really care about.
Tears rolled down my cheek before I even realized they were coming. My first real Easter. One that didn't end with silence or loneliness. One that didn't feel like a reminder of everything I'd lost.
This time…
I had something.
Someone.
I noticed a separate egg. Red and white, slightly glowing under the soft light.
A little note taped on it in crooked handwriting:
"For my idiot husband only."
I laughed softly, wiped my tears, and opened it.
The second it touched my tongue—*bam!*
Fire.
Pure. Unholy. Hellish fire. My mouth exploded.
"WHAT THE—?!"
I dropped to my knees, fanning my tongue like I was dying.
From the bedroom, I heard it. A familiar voice.
Erza's low, satisfied laugh.
"That's what you get for making chilly sandwich for me, you damned Mortal."
I looked up, half-crying, half-laughing, still burning inside.
She was lying on the bed, smug grin on her face, watching me suffer like a queen who'd just won a war.
And honestly?
She did.
That's how our Easter ended—
Me crawling across the floor, Elena giggling in her sleep, and Erza smirking like a villain.
"I'll show you, you damn lizard queen!"
[End of chapter]
Yuuta (smiling at the reader):
Hey everyone, just wanted to take a moment to wish you all a Happy Easter! May this day bring you lots of love, joy, and of course, some delicious chocolate. Don't forget to appreciate the little things and the people around you.
Erza enters, looking mildly irritated but softening up as she looks at Yuuta.
Erza:
Happy Easter... I guess. Enjoy the day... but please, try not to make too much of a mess.
Elena runs in, holding a chocolate bunny.
Elena (giggling):
Happy Easter, everyone! I hope your day is full of love and lots of chocolate!
Yuuta:
(Grinning)
From our little family to yours, Happy Easter! Take care of each other.