Yuri sat stubbornly on the floor, arms crossed tight against her chest in silent defiance.
Mom called her gently to come sit properly so she could be fed together with Mako.
Mako had already climbed obediently onto the small feeding chair, waiting with bright calm eyes.
That was when jealousy flared inside Yuri’s tiny heart like sudden fire today.
She glanced at Mako, then back at Mom, lips tightening with offended pride and envy.
Mom’s patience thinned as she realized Yuri refused to stand out of pure jealousy.
The warm food waited, growing colder with every stubborn second of protest.
Mom’s voice grew firmer, asking Yuri once more to get up and sit beside Mako properly.
Yuri shook her head hard, sliding farther away, eyes shiny with brewing tears and anger.
She did not want to share.
She did not want to obey.
She wanted to be chosen first.
Mako watched quietly, confused by the storm shaking beside him.
Mom finally showed her anger, not with harsh hands but with a wounded, tired voice.
She explained that both would be fed only when both sat properly and calmly.
Yuri cried out loudly, jealousy spilling into sobs that shook her small body.
Still she stayed where she was, torn between hunger and pride.
Minutes passed like hours before her strength slowly gave way to longing.
With trembling movements, Yuri finally stood up and climbed onto the chair beside Mako.
Mom’s expression softened the moment obedience returned.
She fed Mako first, then turned the spoon toward Yuri without hesitation.
Yuri accepted the food quietly now, jealousy melting into tired hunger and relief.
The storm ended not with punishment, but with shared feeding and silent understanding.
