I sat in my armchair, clutching the ancient spell book that had become my secret companion. The memory of Ken's cruel words echoed in my mind, his laughter still ringing painfully. The room seemed to pulse with anticipation, as if the objects themselves were waiting for my decision. "He'll learn soon enough that magic isn't just for fools," I muttered, tracing a finger over a cryptic rune.

Ken stood stubbornly at the threshold, his expression smug until I began chanting. The lights flickered, and his confidence faltered as he felt the power surge around him. Suddenly, his form shimmered, shrinking until only a tiny, bewildered baby remained, wrapped in the makeshift diaper. "Wha—what is happening?" he screamed, though his voice was now only a high-pitched wail.

I moved quietly through the room, arranging diapers and folding tiny clothes. The space has taken on a gentle warmth, contrasted with the uneasy quiet of Ken's cries. I glanced at the little white stretch suit and smiled, feeling a strange mixture of satisfaction and sympathy. "You'll get used to it," I said softly, watching him blink up at me.

Ken has become surprisingly cooperative, his fear evident in his wide eyes. Whenever he grows fussy or stubborn, I remind him of my power, and he quiets instantly. The delivery men bring the crib, and I catch myself chatting with them about baby furniture, never mentioning that my "baby" is anything but ordinary. "He looks adorable in that suit, don't you think?" I ask, holding up a tiny blue outfit for inspection.