Jobless Reincarnation: The King with a Mental Problem

Lapon, Night, Rooftop, Under the Stars

[Senes's Perspective]

I took scissors, a comb, and a piece of white cloth and went up to the rooftop before I finally found him.

This kid is really something, hiding away in this place all by himself...

It made me search for so long...

Little guy...

wrong......

He's not a little guy anymore.

After all, he'll be an adult in two years, right?

And they're all taller than me.

If we factor in his age in another world, he might be older than me, right?

but......

It doesn't matter anymore...

This guy can be as childish as a child sometimes.

He sat in the wicker chair with his back to me.

His shoulders were tense, and he was hunched over like a small animal cornered.

I dare not look back.

They didn't dare look at me.

I walked over, stood behind him, reached out, and ruffled his hair.

I've wanted to say this for a long time.

His hair was as messy as a clump of grass blown by the wind.

They were tangled together, knotted in several places, and felt dry and rough to the touch.

I don't even know how long it's been since I've taken care of it.

When he was in Roya before, although he also had long hair, he was obviously taking good care of it.

But now it has become like this.

It must be because of me, right?

I just emerged from the maze, from months of research and anxiety.

He'd been down there for so long that he hadn't even bothered to take care of his hair.

Xiao Luo is the same.

Her blue braids had also become quite rough.

They must have had a very hard time...

But his head just makes you want to rub it a little longer.

"I'm here to cut your hair."

I sensed he wanted to say something, but I interrupted him beforehand.

But he still spoke up.

"It's so dark, getting a haircut is too dangerous!"

"Aren't the stars very bright tonight?"

"That's dangerous too, what if you end up making your son look ugly?"

"If I get a bad haircut, will I get dumped?"

"What if?"

"Don't worry, it won't happen."

"Will not getting a bad haircut prevent you from getting dumped?"

I gently tugged at his ear.

"Didn't I always cut your hair when you were little? And now you're complaining." I smoothed the ends of his hair. "Why don't you look in the mirror? How long has it been since you've had your hair done? You look like a madman."

He lowered his head and chuckled softly.

I knew it...

He always makes witty remarks that seem to come out of nowhere...

But I could also feel it.

I have a general feeling about it.

His emotions were like a glass filled with water, about to overflow.

That weariness, sadness, self-blame, and guilt were all mixed together, so thick they were impossible to dispel.

He must have gone through a lot on his own, right?

He must have worked hard on his own for a long time...

He wanted to cry.

I know he's crying.

But he didn't want anyone to see...

So his face was buried in the darkness...

So he still turned his back to me and said those nonsensical things.

This child is always like this.

When I was little, if I bumped or bruised myself, even if it was nothing serious, I would yell and cling to me, trying to play the victim, and I would have to coax me for ages before I would calm down.

But when he was truly sad, he always kept it to himself.

Pretend nothing happened.

He chatted with me about random everyday things, rambling on and on.

It's as if if you just keep enduring it, the real pain will disappear on its own.

"Wash your hair with magic."

"Um......"

He obediently raised his hand, and a water balloon enveloped his head.

The water balloon spun around a few times, which should have washed away the tear stains I could see.

Water droplets dripped from his hair and landed on his collar.

I picked up a towel and wiped him down a bit.

Pick up the white cloth, unfold it, and drape it over his shoulders as a scarf for a haircut.

Pick up the comb and start combing his hair. First comb the ends, then the middle, and finally comb from the scalp down.

I slowly untied the knot with my fingers.

After finally tidying up this clump of weeds.

I started cutting his hair with scissors.

Trim the split ends, cut off any excessively long sections, and remove any tangled knots.

His hair was very soft, and the white strands shimmered with a faint silver light under the starlight.

His hair was brown when he was a child.

When did it turn white?

It must be because they used up too much magic power after the magical disaster.

The scissors snipped and slashed under the starry sky.

He didn't say a word.

I didn't say anything.

But I could sense that he had a lot to say, but it was stuck inside and he couldn't find an outlet.

So, I spoke first.

"Just say what you want to say. Can't you even complain to your mom?"

His shoulder twitched.

After a while, he spoke.

Do you think... I did something wrong?

"well......"

If this child truly believed he had done nothing wrong, he wouldn't feel guilty, wouldn't regret it, wouldn't show mercy, and certainly wouldn't have asked that question.

Since you've already asked the question, it means you already know the answer.

But I can't just say it that simply.

He needs more than just a verdict.

He needs someone to tell him—where he went wrong, why he went wrong, and what to do next.

This is the parents' responsibility...

"I know... you must love that child named Aisha very much."

"Yes... I love her very much..."

"Yes, even if you're not biologically related, you still love each other. I can understand that..."

I cut off a lock of hair and placed it on the railing next to me.

"After all, it's the same between us... If someone insults our relationship, twisting the trust, dependence, and love between a parent and child into that kind of thing... I will definitely tear that guy's mouth apart."

so......

From your perspective, that's correct.

I paused for a moment.

"But you still made a mistake."

"..."