God of Milfs: The Gods Request Me To Make a Milf Harem

Kafka blinked rapidly. For a heartbeat he was stunned into silence—but then he burst out, voice cracking with outrage and confusion.

"This...This was supposed to be a wholesome moment!" He exclaimed, throwing his hands up. "I was thinking you'd say the instant you saw me again, you thought of me as your son, you'd fall in love with me at first sight or something! But no! You—"

He jabbed a finger at her, incredulous.

"You called my baby self a dumb-looking baby? What in the world!? Was I really so ugly that you had to call me stupid looking?"

His face twisted, torn between offense and utter disbelief, his voice rising louder.

"T-That's mean, okay! That's downright cruel! I was already down in the ditches, abandoned, crying my tiny lungs out, and now you're telling me you looked at me and thought, 'Wow, what a dumb baby'? Who even says that?!"

Seeing his outrage and how he looked he was going to cry, Vanitas's eyes widened realising that he misunderstood, and she immediately shook her head frantically, her hands waving in front of her as if to erase her words.

"No, no, Kafka, not exactly that! I didn't mean it like that!"

She then took a deep breath, steadying herself, her voice softening as she tried to explain.

"I wasn't calling you ugly or anything. In fact…"

She paused, her gaze flickering to his face, a faint, wistful smile tugging at her lips.

"When I first saw you as a baby in my arms, even knowing you were a boy, I couldn't help but think how perfect your face was. How...cute you were. In that moment, I thought I was holding the most beautiful thing the world had to offer."

Kafka froze, his breath catching in his throat. Her words, so unexpected, hit him like a wave, warming his heart in a way he hadn't anticipated. He searched her face, looking for any hint of deception, but there was none.

Meanwhile, Vanitas's smile faded slightly, replaced by a look of guilt as she continued,

"I-It wasn't your appearance I thought was dumb or stupid-looking. It was...well, it was what you were doing when I first saw you."

She hesitated, as if embarrassed to admit it.

"The truth is, when I first searched for you from the heavens, I found you in a playpen in an orphanage, surrounded by other babies. And when I saw you...you were trying to stuff a toy into your mouth."

Kafka blinked, his confusion deepening. "Wait, what?"

She nodded, a sheepish expression crossing her face.

"It was this bright, colorful toy, clearly not something you could eat. But there you were, gumming at it with this determined look on your face, like you were convinced you could make it work."

"It completely caught me off guard and I couldn't help but think, 'What a stupid baby this is, trying to eat something that's not food!'"

Kafka's mouth fell open again, and he let out an exasperated laugh, half-disbelieving, half-amused.

"Are you serious? That's what you're basing this on? Babies do that, you know! They put everything in their mouths! They don't know what's food and what's not! How can you call me dumb because of that?"

Vanitas's cheeks flushed, and she looked away, clearly embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, Kafka! I'm sorry, okay! But the thing is that...I'd never seen a baby up close before. I had no idea how they behaved, what they did. So, to me, it was so strange, so...unexpected."

"For a moment, I genuinely wondered if my own son might be...well, a little slow in the head." She gave a guilty laugh, her voice trembling. "It sounds awful now, I know. But I was so ignorant back then. I didn't understand babies, or mortals, or...anything, really."

Kafka stared at her, his exasperation giving way to a reluctant chuckle. He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head.

"So, let me get this straight. You saw me trying to eat a toy, thought I was some kind of idiot baby, and then what? Decided I wasn't worth looking at anymore and went on with your day?"

"No, not at all." Vanitas quickly said before her expression softened, and a nostalgic smile spread across her face, as if she were reliving the memory.

She looked into Kafka's eyes, her voice warm and earnest as she said,

"Even though I had those thoughts, even though I wondered if my child might have something wrong with him, for some reason I couldn't take my eyes off you."

"I told myself it would just be a quick glance, that I'd look at you and move on. But the moment I saw you...something stirred inside me. A longing, a feeling I couldn't understand. I tried to ignore it, to tell myself it was nothing, but I couldn't look away. I just...kept watching you."

Kafka's brows furrowed, his heart racing with confusion and curiosity. "You...kept watching me? Like what, like I was some kind of zoo animal or something?"

"Yes, I suppose you could say that." Vanitas laughed softly, a sound that was both embarrassed and fond. "You see, you were doing so many strange things, Kafka, things that completely baffled me but were...oddly captivating."

"Like how the other babies in the orphanage would crawl in straight lines...but you? You'd go in circles, like a little puppy chasing its tail. I couldn't help but think you were some kind of...odd creature."

She smiled, her eyes sparkling with the memory.

"And when you ate, sometimes food would come out of your nose, and I thought, 'What kind of baby tries to eat through his nose?' It was so absurd to me."

Kafka let out a disbelieving laugh, his cheeks flushing slightly. "You're making me sound like a complete weirdo! I was just a baby, you know!"

"I know, I know!" Vanitas said quickly, her smile widening. "But to me, it was all so new, so strange. And when you slept...oh, when you slept, your little tongue would poke out, just a tiny bit, and you'd make these soft, ridiculous noises. I didn't know why, but I couldn't stop watching. I found it...amusing. Endearing, even.

"And before I knew it, I'd spent the entire day just watching you, completely caught up in every little thing you did. The hours passed, and I didn't even notice...My entire focus was on you."

Hearing this surprising statement come from the women who acted as if she didn't care about him at all, Kafka's laughter faded, replaced by a quiet intensity as he stared at her.

"You...you spent the whole day watching me?"

"Yes. Yes I did." Vanitas nodded, her expression softening further, her voice almost a whisper.

"And you know what shocked me the most, Kafka? What truly caught me off guard?"

She took a step closer, her eyes shimmering with emotion.

"When I looked at my reflection in a pond nearby at the end of the day, where I'd been watching you...I saw that I was smiling...A real smile."

"Not the haughty smirk I'd always worn, not the condescending grin of a god looking down on creation. It was a natural smile, a warm one, a smile I'd never seen on my own face before. It came out of nowhere, and I didn't even realize it was there until I saw it."

Seraphina, who had been quietly watching the exchange, stepped forward, her voice calm but firm.

"It's true, Kafka. I walked in on that moment, bringing tea to her temple as I often did. And when I saw that smile on Lady Vanitas's face, I nearly dropped the tray. I thought I was seeing things."

"After all, it was too warm, too happy, too...human for someone like her." She glanced at Vanitas, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "No offense, of course."

"None taken." Vanitas let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "I was also just as surprised as you were. I didn't even know I was capable of a smile like that."

Kafka's heart pounded, his emotions a tangled mess of hope, pain, and disbelief. He looked at Vanitas, his voice trembling slightly.

"So...you're saying you watched me all day, and you smiled? A real smile? Because of me? Even after everything, even after you abandoned me?"

Vanitas's smile faltered, replaced by a look of deep regret.

"Yes, Kafka. I didn't understand it at the time. I told myself it was just curiosity, just amusement. But looking back...it was more than that. That seed Seraphina spoke of, it was growing. I was starting to feel something for you, something I didn't know how to name."

Vanitas's voice faltered as the weight of her own confession pressed down on her, and she forced herself to continue.

"But of course...back then, I didn't think of it as anything important."

She whispered, almost ashamed.

"I told myself it was nothing more than the same strange illness that had plagued me since the day you were born, the same one that made water fall from my eyes."

"I convinced myself it was another symptom, nothing more. And so I dismissed it. I told myself, I've wasted enough time on this child today. I've looked long enough. And that, there is no need to ever look at him again."

Her lips curved into a bitter smile, but she shook her head slowly.

"But...that didn't hold up. Not even for a single day."

"Because the even while drinking tea with Seraphina my thoughts weren't with her, or with the heavens, or with my duties...My thoughts were with you."

"I was wondering if you were you awake at the moment? Were you still asleep after playing so long? Were you crying? Were you hungry? What sound were you making this time?"

"...I could think of nothing else."

Vanitas's eyes softened, guilt and nostalgia intermingling.

"And so...I went back. I went back to watching you, as though I were powerless. And that...that was when it truly began. That was when my obsession started."

Kafka stiffened. "Obsession?" He repeated, confusion knitting his brow.

"Yes. Obsession." Vanitas met his gaze, ashamed but unflinching. "After all, I spent more and more of my time watching you instead of doing anything else. I ignored my divine duties, ignored the heavens, ignored my very temple and just stared at you from the heavens."

"I watched you play in the garden, crawling after ants as if they were some great prey. I watched you bicker and tug over toys with the other babies. I watched you chase the sunlight across the floor. I watched...everything."

"And in my mind, I began to make commentary, as if I were watching some performance, some strange little show meant for me alone. Like when you babbled nonsense sounds, I tried to guess what words you meant. When you stumbled, I wondered if you'd get back up. Or when you fought with the other babies, I would support you from above and tell you to fight back and not lose."

"And just like that, it became my amusement. My entertainment. My..." She broke off, then whispered. "...my joy."

She exhaled sharply, as though the words pained her.

"At first, I told myself it was only leisure, only mockery, that I was merely laughing at your clumsy, stupid little ways. I told myself I was looking down on you and using you as a source of fun like watching a cat and it's silly antics, that I was above it all."

"But time betrayed me...Because when the nurses at the orphanage tried to feed you and you wouldn't eat properly, I'd get so worried, up there in the heavens, sweating as if I were the one starving. I'd think, 'He's not eating enough; he'll be hungry later.'"

"And when you climbed onto high places, tables, chairs, anything you could reach, I'd jump out of my seat, shouting to myself, 'Someone stop him! He's going to fall!'"

Her voice trembled, and she pressed a hand to her chest, as if the memories were overwhelming her.

"And when I saw you playing alone, when the other babies ignored you or left you out...my heart would ache. I'd want to scream at them, urge them to include you, to play with you. And I...I felt sorrow, as though my chest were being pierced seeing you alone."

Her voice trembled as she went on.

"And I realized then, I was no longer watching an amusing creature. I was no longer observing a toy. I was...caring. And in my entire existence, Kafka, I had never once cared. Not like that."

Kafka swallowed hard, his throat dry, his hands clenched, while Vanitas sighed deeply, her pride and vulnerability at war within her.

"But my pride...my pride screamed at me, told me these weren't true emotions, that they were illusions, inner demons trying to make me weak. I tried to convince myself again and again that I felt nothing, that you were a disgrace, a mistake. But then…"

Her eyes darkened, her voice dropping to a haunted whisper.

"Then came that night. The night the orphanage burned...The night that changed everything."