The key turned in the lock with a metallic click that sounded deafening in the silence of the night. I pushed the door open and stepped inside.
It was an automatic, mechanical gesture, devoid of any warmth.
Kanna followed me like a shadow, crossing the threshold of a house she knew well, but which tonight must have felt like an alien planet.
She held my hand until the very last moment.
Until a few minutes ago, the thought of Evangeline, that fleeting sense of peace I had felt... it was all almost gone.
It had been swept away the moment I saw the bruise on Kanna's cheek and heard her trembling words about Ema.
Happiness was a luxury I couldn't afford right now.
Not with that violent mark stamped on the face of the sister of the girl I had just left.
"Come with me," I said, without looking back. "I need to get the first aid kit. It's in my room."
Kanna nodded and trailed behind me down the hallway and up the stairs.
Entering my room, the atmosphere shifted.
This was my private space—cluttered, smelling of me.
There were also some dirty clothes on my piano, but I didn't care about the mess.
As I frantically rummaged through the closet looking for the white box with the red cross, I heard the rustle of Kanna's clothes stop in the center of the room.
I turned for a split second.
She wasn't looking at me.
Her eyes were fixed on my bed, on the sheets slightly rumpled from my restless sleep the night before.
She bit her lower lip, her cheeks flushing a sudden, deep red—much brighter than the bruise she bore.
Her hands gripped the hem of her skirt, her knuckles turning white.
It felt as if the air in the room had suddenly become too hot for her to breathe.
I looked away, finally grabbing the kit.
I didn't want to investigate that blush.
Or perhaps, simply, I couldn't.
"Found it. Let's go to the kitchen, the light is better," I said, breaking that strange tension.
Kanna flinched, as if waking from a forbidden dream, and lowered her head. "Y-yes. Sorry."
In the kitchen, the hum of the refrigerator was the only sound.
I had Kanna sit on a stool and began dabbing her wounds with disinfectant.
She hissed slightly at the sting but remained motionless.
As I tended to her face, I could feel her tension melting away, replaced by something else.
She let me work, docile, her eyes seeking mine.
There was a strange light in her gaze, a spark of... contentment? It was absurd.
Her sister had just psychologically collapsed, she had been hurt, and yet it seemed Kanna was holding her breath to keep a bubble of happiness from bursting.
"What is she thinking...?" My mind was asking.
Maybe... being aware of her feelings towards me made me think about negative things.
"It's my chance," her glossy eyes seemed to scream.
I rapidly shook my head , trying to cleaning my own thoughts.
"Nah... I'm just overthinking , I guess."
But immediately after, I saw that enthusiasm flicker and die, crushed by the weight of guilt.
She shrank into herself, as if she felt dirty for thinking, even for a second-
"Try not to make any noise..." I whispered, focusing on the bandage.
"Fumihiro?" A familiar voiuce called out to me.
I froze.
Standing in the kitchen doorway was my mother, Anzu.
She was in her pajamas, rubbing her eyes, but her gaze—usually sweet—became instantly alert the moment she saw Kanna and the first aid kit.
Kanna stiffened, terrified at the thought of having to explain.
I cut off any questions before they could start, my voice steady and calm, almost icy.
"Mom. Please. Don't ask anything." I said.
My mother stopped.
Her eyes shifted from my tired face to Kanna's wounded, frightened one.
No other words were needed.
The maternal instinct overrode curiosity.
She nodded, grave, and approached in silence.
She gently took the cotton from my hands. "Let me do it, Fumihiro. Put some water on."
As she finished dressing the wound with an expert touch, I prepared three cups of hot chocolate.
We drank in a silence that wasn't heavy, but thick with things left unsaid.
The warmth of the mug between my hands was the only thing anchoring me to reality.
Once we finished, I stood up. "I'm going to get some clothes for the night," I said. "You can't sleep in those, Kanna."
I left the kitchen, leaving them alone.
--------------------------------------
Silence wrapped around the two women as soon as Fumihiro's footsteps faded down the hall.
Anzu placed her empty mug in the sink and turned toward the girl.
Kanna was trembling slightly—not from the cold, but from the release of all the accumulated adrenaline.
Anzu moved closer and, without a word, wrapped her in a warm, soft hug.
Kanna's eyes widened in surprise, then she let herself sink against the woman's shoulder, feeling small and defenseless.
"You are too kind, little one," Anzu whispered into her ear, stroking her hair. Her voice was sweet, but firm. "But listen to me closely. Don't let your feelings get the better of your fragility... or my son's."
Kanna felt a sharp pang in her chest.
Anzu understood.
She had understood everything: the secret love, the hope hidden behind the pain, the desire to be the right one for Fumihiro, to repair everything her sister had shattered.
Anzu probably knew this before everyone else.
"I-I..." Kanna tried to speak, but her voice cracked in her throat.
The tears she had held back to appear strong in front of Fumihiro threatened to spill over.
Anzu held her a little tighter, as if to say her secret was safe, but the danger was real.
----------------------------------------
I returned to the kitchen with a bundle of clothes in my arms.
The atmosphere had changed—it felt more intimate, as if they had shared a secret I was barred from knowing.
I didn't pry.
"Here," I said, handing the clothes to Kanna.
It was an old pair of pajamas Ema had left here months ago, during one of our happy weekends.
I didn't have anything else that would fit her.
I saw Kanna recognize the fabric, and a shadow passed over her face, but she said nothing.
She accepted her sister's clothes like a necessary penance.
"T-Thank you, Fumi," she murmured.
"You'll sleep in my bed," I said, with a tone that brooked no argument. I was tired, hollowed out. "I'll take the couch."
Kanna looked up sharply, her lips parted as if she wanted to protest, or perhaps suggest something else.
A flash of disappointment crossed her eyes—the childish, desperate hope of not having to be alone, of feeling a bit of human warmth... maybe?
But she realized my coldness, the barrier I had put up to keep from crumbling.
"Okay," she said softly. "Goodnight, Fumihiro. Goodnight, Mrs. Anzu."
"Let me walk you." My mother said, taking Kanna with her.
Kanna didn't say anything.
She just said "Okay, thank you."
"Goodnight, Kanna." I said.
Kanna forced a smile and then walked towards my room with my mother.
My tone of voice was... almost neutral.
I... didn't want things to turn out like this.
What is gonna happen now? What do I need to do? Should I ask Kanna some questions about Ema?
I guess not...
Shortly after, the house plunged into darkness.
I lay on the couch, staring at a ceiling I couldn't see.
The cushion was uncomfortable, but maybe that was fitting.
I didn't deserve to be comfortable.
I was on the verge of closing my eyes, hoping for a dreamless sleep, when my phone vibrated on the small table next to me.
The blue light of the screen illuminated the living room for a second, stinging my eyes.
I picked it up reluctantly. A new message.
Sender: Kazuha- "Hey... I know it's late and maybe it's the wrong time. But can we meet tomorrow? We need to talk."
The phone dropped onto my chest.
I didn't reply, I just wanted to rest.
"I have no time for this, now." I said, before putting my phone away and closing my eyes.