The Balance Keeper

After being assigned a pair of beast-kin brothers as partners by the Federation, I prepared two glasses of milk every evening. The older brother, Blaine, was reserved but would politely accept it, offering a gentle Thank you. His younger brother, Chase, was hot-headed, often shattering the glass and snapping at me. I believed I was being perfectly impartial, treating them both equally.

Then, my best friend, Elara, accidentally witnessed this. She hesitated before saying, "Don't you think that kind of impartiality is actually unfair to the one who's better behaved?" I thought about it all day and realized she was right.

That evening, I walked out of the kitchen with only one glass of milk in my hand.

1.

Blaine was the first to notice the change. But he said nothing, accepted the milk as usual, and thanked me. Chase, sitting on the sofa nearby, was bored, playing a video game. It wasn't until I stood up, said goodnight, and started walking towards the bedroom that he finally realized the subtle difference:

"Hey, did we run out of milk, or are you so broke you can only afford one glass?"

Compared to Blaine's quiet aloofness, Chase was like a prehistoric Tyrannosaurus Rex C volatile, defiant, and sharp. He put down his game console, his eyes unfriendly, and his words as cutting as ever: "If you don't need your eyes, donate them. Can't you see I'm still here?"

He would never speak to me kindly. The urge to explain dissipated. My smile faded slightly, and I answered simply, "No."

"No? Then who are you trying to annoy by only bringing out one glass of milk?"

Annoy? I recalled a few nights ago. Blaine and Chase had been called out on an emergency mission. They didn't return until nearly one in the morning. I had waited so long that I'd fallen asleep on the sofa without realizing it. I was woken by the sound of the door opening. I quickly got up, heated the dinner I had saved for them, and brought it out. As before, I had still prepared two glasses of milk.

Chase's eyes held deep fatigue. I glimpsed a wound on his shoulder and stepped forward to ask about it. But he impatiently pushed me away. Beast-kin strength was always considerable. Along with the glass of milk, I fell hard to the floor. Chase froze for a moment, but quickly reverted to his usual impatience: "Damn it, are you blind? Can't you see I'm texting? Always trying to cling to me, serves you right. It was annoying enough when you used to act all clingy and pathetic, but today I'm practically dead from exhaustion, and I come home to this subservient behavior again."

In his eyes, my waiting and concern were just clingy, pathetic acts. I was stung by the disgust in Chase's voice. A wave of shame washed over me. My face flushed, and without lifting my head, I stumbled back to my room. A muffled grunt came from the living room C Blaine had punched Chase. A moment later, Blaine came in with a first-aid kit and knelt before me. It was then I realized that my calf had been cut by a piece of the broken glass, and blood was already flowing down to my ankle.

2.

I had always known the Blackwood brothers had a grudge against me. To anyone looking in, I was the one who had "married up." They were the pride of the Beast-Kin Academy, top in looks and ability C arrogant, brilliant, and highly sought after. I was gentle, ordinary, a weed among the common folk. If not for the astonishingly high compatibility score, the Federation wouldn't have assigned us, and our paths would never have crossed.

At first, I was overjoyed. I grew up in an orphanage; all I longed for was a home. I naively believed Blaine and Chase were the family heaven had given me. So, no matter how bad their attitude towards me was, or how disdainful their words, I acted as if I didn't notice, still approaching them with enthusiasm and joy. Every time I saw them eat the food I prepared, I felt immense satisfaction. As if I was needed...

People need connections in this world, and Blaine and Chase were my link to it. The first six months were tough. Both resented the assignment. Their former rivals finally seized the opportunity to mock them for being matched with an "unpresentable wife." This was a huge humiliation for them, who had always been so arrogant. So, they vented their frustration on me. Blaine was more composed, mostly ignoring me, cold and distant. Chase, however, was hot-tempered, often scoffing at me, criticizing everything from my appearance to my work. In his words, I was utterly worthless, a complete failure, good for nothing from head to toe.

Then, at some point... their attitudes towards me improved slightly. Especially Blaine; he no longer treated me as invisible. Every time I offered him milk, he would accept it, even thanking me. Occasionally, he would look at me and suddenly ruffle my hair, just like other beast-kin partners show affection. I had never received such treatment before; I was almost overwhelmed. And Chase's taunts gradually lessened; sometimes he would even pull me into playing games. Although he would always curse me for holding him back, he'd still take out anyone who attacked me.

I thought I had finally won them over, that my hardships were about to end. Persistence worked; as I tried hard to please them, they were also trying to accept me. Until that broken glass of milk... It was like a dream, torn apart without warning. All those years of effort, enthusiasm, thoughtfulness, and devotion had finally condensed into three words. Subservient dog. The most common, most ordinary, most shameless, most self-respecting subservient dog.

3.

After that day, I couldn't sleep well for several nights. Shame and embarrassment overwhelmed me; I practically avoided both of them. My best friend, Elara, was furious when she found out. I looked down, fidgeting with my sleeve, and slowly said, "It's all in the past. I've thought about it; I'll just maintain my distance from now on, no more getting close." The worst outcome would simply be a polite, distant relationship.

The extremely high compatibility score meant that only I could soothe them during their sensitive periods. And their hard-earned status in the military provided me with good material conditions. It was just... an exchange.

"So, will you still bring them milk?" I thought for a moment: "I probably will." Maintaining a semblance of politeness was necessary for me too.

Elara looked as if she wanted to say more, but eventually spoke: "But don't you think that if you still send two glasses of milk impartially, it's a little unfair?"

Unfair? Because Blaine and Chase were twins, and their compatibility with me was exceptionally high, the staff repeatedly emphasized that after marriage, the most important thing for me was to be impartial: "You rarely see multi-beast-kin families, but they do exist. The most important thing for maintaining such a family is fairness; you can't favor one over the other. You need to be the adhesive for the family. You must understand that your every action will affect the beast-kins' moods and disrupt the balance between them." I took this to heart, so I always prepared everything in pairs. Two glasses of milk, two sets of gifts, and even when delivering meals, I counted the shrimp in each container. I had gone to such lengths; was it still unfair?

Elara saw my confusion and subtly prompted: "That day, only Chase was mean to you, right? Blaine didn't say anything." I nodded. Not only did he not say anything, he even punched Chase, almost as if defending me. And... I lowered my head, looking at the wound on my calf. Blaine had knelt there, more serious than I had ever seen him, and treated my wound. Before leaving, he even handed me a chocolate bar from his pocket. He wiped away my tears, coaxed me to sleep, and finally apologized to me on his brother's behalf. But actually, it had nothing to do with him; that night, only Chase had hurt me.

"That's right then. Think about it, their attitudes towards you are completely different, but in the end, they get the same milk and the same gifts. For Blaine, who's better behaved and treats you better, isn't that unfair?"

I opened my mouth, wanting to argue, but didn't know what to say. Later, back home, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. I remembered helping the volunteer sister who visited us at the orphanage. Everyone else was playing, but only I was helping move things. My palms were red and chafed after an afternoon of work. In the end, I received a backpack as a reward. But everyone else got one too, even the child who had been lazy all afternoon, catching butterflies. It was identical to mine.

When the volunteer left, that sister pulled me aside. She pulled out two hair clips as if by magic, smiling as she placed them in my hand: "Everyone gets a backpack, but these hair clips are an extra gift from me." She said: "Well-behaved children should get extra rewards. That's fair."

The words of the staff and the volunteer sister clashed in my mind. Eventually, the scales slowly tipped towards the latter. I thought, the volunteer sister was more right. The better-behaved party receiving more rewards C that's fair.

4.

The milk was just the beginning. In the evenings, when we sat watching TV, I no longer sat perfectly in the middle. Instead, I leaned closer to Blaine, creating a noticeable distance from Chase. I stopped saying good morning to Chase; I only smiled softly at Blaine when I saw him. When I had questions I didn't understand, I would only ask Blaine. When going out to gatherings, I would only link arms with Blaine. Even at meal times, my favoritism was obvious; of ten shrimp, eight went to Blaine.

At first, I felt a little flustered. Abandoning my long-standing impartiality made me uneasy. But soon, I discovered that the changes from giving it up weren't as bad as I'd thought. Blaine, though reserved, never made me feel uncomfortable. When I sat beside him, he would naturally take my wrist, asking if I wanted snacks. When I said good morning, he would quickly reply and ask about my sleep the night before. He would always taste my cooking, earnestly praising it.

And after no longer clinging to Chase, I would never again be impatiently pushed off the sofa, ignored when saying good morning. I wouldn't walk down the street only to be harshly pulled away because he was embarrassed to be seen with me. Nor would I spend hours cooking a meal, only for it to be deemed too salty and called disgusting. I practically hid behind Blaine like a turtle, enjoying this rare warmth.

The atmosphere in the house, however, had inexplicably grown subtle. Several times, I felt a direct gaze on my back. But when I turned, I only saw Chase staring expressionlessly at the television. He noticed my gaze, turned his head, and said in a harsh tone, "What are you looking at? What, you want to play games with me again?" If it were before, my foolish self would have taken it as an invitation, eagerly joining him. But now, I shook my head, no longer seeking humiliation.

Blaine happened to walk over. I followed him, holding my badminton racket, and headed out the door. This was my latest hobby; I often played with Blaine for hours. As soon as we stepped outside, a loud crash came from the living room. I turned my head to see Chase had thrown his game console. Shards flew everywhere, and Chase's gaze was chilling. It fell on my hand, clasped tightly with Blaine's. He gave a forced smile: "Brother, this is getting ridiculous." "You're getting too good at playing the nice guy, acting like you actually like this ugly duckling."

5.

How long had it been since I last heard those three words? When we were first assigned, Chase's disgust for me was unconcealed. He even had a huge argument with the staff at the assignment hall because of it. "Ugly duckling," "toad," were the terms he most frequently used. It seemed it stopped after the first time I helped soothe the brothers during their sensitive period. The usually cold and arrogant military prodigies became exceptionally clingy during their sensitive periods. That was the only chance I had to touch their beast forms. The fierce and violent snow leopards, at that time, were like large cats, only rubbing against me.

They called me their "wife," eagerly burying themselves in my embrace, purring contentedly. As if they couldn't leave me, their heads constantly burrowing into my shoulder, they even fought over who could be closer to me. I blushed furiously from their rubbing, my face flushed crimson at the repeated calls of "wife." Although after they sobered up, Chase would always look humiliated, pointing at me and unable to speak for a long time. But after that, he indeed rarely attacked my appearance.

My friends told me that after intimate physical contact, even the coldest beast-kin would soften. That was one of the few sweet memories I had. Actually, I wasn't ugly; I was rather pretty. It was just that the Blackwood brothers were exceptionally handsome. In comparison, I indeed paled considerably. I consoled myself that Chase's personality was just like that; he was young and adored by everyone, always sharp-tongued. It was normal for him to call me an ugly duckling again in a fit of anger after I refused to play games with him and slighted him. But even with that comfort, I still tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Perhaps, deep down, I still felt wronged.

I got out of bed, intending to go to the living room for a glass of water. A faint light glowed on the balcony C Blaine and Chase. One stood by the railing, the other leaned against the wall. A small flicker of fire between their fingertips, they were in mid-conversation. I quietly hid around the corner, making no sound.

6.

"Brother, this is the second time you've hit me." Chase exhaled a plume of smoke. His lip was bruised, and though his lips curved, there was no smile in his eyes. "Just because I called her an ugly duckling?" Blaine's expression, standing opposite him, was cold. I looked at him and felt a strange sense of unfamiliarity. He had been gentle with me lately; I had almost forgotten. The inherent nature of a snow leopard beast-kin was cold and brutal. He and his brother were ruthless deep down.

"If you don't like her, you don't have to see her." Blaine extinguished the cigarette in his hand, his voice calm. "If I see you bullying her again, I'll hit you every time." Chase laughed as if he'd heard a funny joke, and indeed he did laugh: "No way, brother. Who was it who filed a joint appeal with me, refusing the assignment? Now you've become a protector, getting addicted to acting?"

After laughing for a long time, Chase stopped, his posture relaxing a bit. "Alright, I know, the trial marriage period is almost over. You're playing hard to get, wanting to treat that ugly duckling better so she'll obediently divorce you, right? If we hadn't already reached an agreement, I'd actually be fooled by you."

Trial marriage? My heart suddenly contracted. I had been living too comfortably lately, so much so that I had almost forgotten about the trial marriage. The assignment system wasn't entirely unforgiving; even with high compatibility, there could still be resentful partners. So, after the assignment, there was a one-year trial marriage period. If suitable, they would formally marry; if not, both parties could negotiate a divorce.

My fingers unconsciously tightened around my sleeve. So, Blaine being kind to me lately was just to coax me into an easy divorce. Turns out, he was no different from his brother, Chase. My heart ached, making it hard to breathe. Amidst my confusion, I suddenly heard a short, sharp: "No." It was Blaine's answer.

Chase was clearly stunned too; his tone was surprised. "Are you really going to marry her for life? Didn't we agree that after the divorce, we'd find other matches? She's useless, ugly, and good for nothing; marrying her would be so embarrassing, we'd become the laughingstock of our circle, wouldn't we?"

Blaine corrected him. "Not 'we.' Just you. I never said I'd look for anyone else." He thought of something, and his expression softened. "Lily is very good, very clever and lovely. I had a prejudice against her before, so I missed too much." Lily, my name. I never expected Blaine to think of me that way. He even called me Lily; no one had ever called me that.

Blaine then turned to Chase, warning, "Stay away from my wife from now on." Chase's chest visibly heaved; he seemed furious, stamping his foot in agitation. "Damn it, I'm not divorced yet! How is she your wife?"

"Weren't you planning to get divorced? If you've made up your mind, stop clinging to other people's wives."

"You're sick, who's clinging to that ugly duckling? Do you think everyone's as blind as you, mistaking a pebble for a pearl?" Chase irritably ran his hands through his hair, his voice dropping. "Sensitive periods don't count; that was... that was a physiological reaction. I wasn't thinking clearly then." Blaine gave a knowing scoff. "Idiot."

Chase ignored him, taking another deep drag from his cigarette, his voice muffled, his gaze a little distant. "Anyway, if you're not getting divorced, then I'm not either. Beast-kin actively abandoning humans doesn't look good. And Lily always looks at me with such longing, always acting like she can't live without me, so clingy... I'm not that heartless either." "I guess we'll just make do. Even an ugly face gets used to after a while, and if she's useless, she's useless, it's not like I'm relying on her. If I file for divorce, I'll get a reputation as a jerk, and I won't find anyone better either." "Being a wife is being a wife, it's not impossible... damn it, I'm definitely not initiating the divorce."