As Maxi walked alongside his maid, he noticed her discomfort—her tail was awkwardly trapped between the fabric of her uniform. He sighed and reached for the edge of her sleeve, giving it a small tug.
The maid, lost in thought, flinched at the sudden contact. "Huh?" she let out a soft noise of surprise, glancing down at him. Maxi, however, didn't react—his gaze remained fixed forward as he continued walking. She shook her head, letting the moment pass, and silently followed him down the hallway back to his room.
Maxi drifted into thought, as he often did. Ever since he arrived in this world, solitude had been his greatest companion. There was little to do but learn—learn to walk, to speak, to eat. And in the quiet, his mind wandered back to his past life, piecing together memories like fragments of a dream. Yet, frustratingly, only one day remained truly vivid—the day he died.
He remembered names. Emily, his daughter. Shy, kind-hearted, and too trusting for her own good. Then there was his son—brave, sharp, and naturally skeptical of others, a leader in the making. And finally, his wife…
Maxi frowned. His wife wasn't conventionally beautiful. She wasn't stunning or breathtaking. No, she was cute—soft features, warm eyes. She had been around his height in his previous life. But that wasn't why he loved her.
Why did I love her?
"Young Master… we're here. You can let go of me now."
His maid's voice pulled him from his thoughts. Blinking, he realized he was still holding onto the fabric of her sleeve. Nodding, he released it. She stepped forward, opening the door to his room, and he entered without a word, climbing onto his bed. Without hesitation, he grabbed the book he had left unfinished earlier, flipping it open.
The maid stood by the door. "Young Master, do you need anything?"
Maxi's eyes widened.
It was because she needed me he through slamming his book onto the fabric of his bed in shock.
The realization slipped from his lips before he could stop it.
"It was because she needed me."