Toru (grinning, whisper-yelling back):
"You forgot something!"
Shion (rolling her eyes):
"What could I have possibly forgotten—"
Toru (cutting her off, loud whisper):
"My number!!"
Her cheeks flush. She crosses her arms.
Shion (snapping, flustered):
"You think you're smooth or something?"
Toru chuckles, stepping toward the tree. He grabs a branch.
Shion (panicking, whisper-yelling):
"Wait—no! Don't climb! That's dangerous—"
But he's already pulling himself up, sneakers slipping against bark. He hauls himself until one leg swings into her window.
Shion gasps, waving her arms.
Shion (embarrassed, frantic):
"You can't just come into a girl's room like this! It's messy—I'm not even dressed properly—"
Toru ignores her, his eyes darting around the room — makeup scattered, bras tossed on the bed, her phone still on the floor. He bursts out laughing.
Toru (teasing, whispering):
"Your room's a disaster."
Shion (shoving him inside, whispering fiercely):
"Shhh! Be quiet!"
He tumbles to the floor, groaning dramatically.
Shion (kneeling, panicked):
"Are you okay?! Hey—Toru—"
He lies still. Shion shakes his shoulder.
Suddenly he pops up.
Toru (grinning, playful):
"Boo."
Shion squeals, covering her mouth just as—
Knock, knock.
Reina (outside, shouting):
"What's all that noise?!"
Shion's eyes go wide. Toru scrambles, giggling, and crawls under her bed. She kicks him further in, mouthing stay quiet.
She opens the door just as Reina barges in. Arms crossed.
Reina (snapping):
"Why is your window open? Were you planning to sneak out? You said you didn't want to be like me! From now on, no more teenage life for you!"
She slams the door and storms off.
Shion exhales shakily, sliding down against the wall. Toru crawls out, smirking.
Toru (pointing toward the door, muttering):
"Your mom's... kinda an ass."
Shion exhales sharply through her nose but doesn't argue.
He softens, crouching in front of her.
Toru (gentle, quiet):
"Hey... how about I give you my number? Let's hang out more. Tokami and Maki already want to see you again."
Shion tilts her head, half-smiling.
Shion (sarcastic, but weak):
"You heard what she said... right?"
From the kitchen, Reina's drunken voice echoes:
Reina (slurred, crying out):
"I didn't mean it, Princess! I love you!"
Toru snorts, shaking his head. He pushes himself up, but as Shion looks up at him, her wide eyes catching his — something inside him jolts. His heart races.
For a split second, he's overwhelmed. Heat rushes to his face. Dirty, guilty thoughts flash through his mind.
All he can think about is her lips wrapped around his-
He bolts.
Clambering out the window in a flash, nearly tripping on the tree branch. Shion shoots up, whisper-yelling.
Shion (urgent, panicked):
"Toru! What are you—hey! Are you okay?!"
He waves dismissively, limping off into the dark street, not daring to look back.
The room is quiet now, save for the faint hum of the fridge downstairs and the distant drip of a leaky faucet. Shion lies flat on her bed, her body still humming from the chaos of earlier — Toru's voice in her ear, his hand gripping her wrist, his face leaning down toward hers.
She turns on her side, hugging her pillow, but her mind won't let her rest. His expression — flustered, confused, almost scared — replays over and over.
Her fingers drift to her chest, thumb rubbing small circles against her collarbone as if trying to calm her heartbeat.
Shion (whisper, to herself, aching):
"Why do you look at me like that, Toru...? Why does it still feel like... love?"
Her breath trembles. Her hand slides lower, brushing the waistband of her shorts. Her eyes close, lips parting as her mind floods with the image of him — the way he smiled when she woke up in the car, the way his voice dropped when he said he'd walk her home.
She gasps softly, caught between shame and longing.
But then —
SLAM.
Her bedroom door bursts open.
Shion jerks upright, heart slamming in her chest. She yanks her blanket up in a panic, her face red, her body frozen mid-movement.
Reina staggers in, leaning against the doorframe. Her eyes are glazed, cheeks flushed from alcohol.
Reina (voice cracking, dramatic, slurred):
"Ohhh... my innocent girl..."
Shion's entire face flames with mortification. She scrambles to sit up straighter, pulling her shirt down, hair sticking to her sweaty forehead.
Shion (stammering, defensive):
"M-Mom! It's not—it's not what it looks like! I was just—"
Reina staggers forward, tears welling. She throws her arms out wide like she's about to embrace her daughter, but she sways unsteadily instead.
Reina (wailing):
"You're all I have, Shion... Don't throw your life away like me!"
Shion bites her lip, torn between embarrassment and anger. She turns her face away, hiding her burning cheeks.
Shion (cold, whispering through clenched teeth):
"Maybe if you acted like a mother, I wouldn't feel so... so empty."
The words hang heavy in the air. Reina freezes, swaying, her sobs catching in her throat.
Shion clutches her blanket tighter, turning away, shoulders trembling. Her voice breaks.
Shion (muttering to herself, more to the dark than to her mom):
"...Why do I only feel cared for when it's Toru...?"
The ceiling above spins. Shion suddenly shakes onto the bed, her body limp, her mind flickering like static.
Reina stumbles forward panic flooding her usually indifferent face. She rushes to Shion's side, clutching her daughter's hand with trembling fingers. Her tears fall fast, dropping onto the blanket.
Reina (pleading, voice shaking):
"Hana! Talk to me! What's wrong?!"
Hana's eyelids twitch open, but her eyes are hazy, unfocused. Her lips part with effort, the words weak and broken.
Hana (faint, whispering):
"...What happened? ...Why do I feel like... someone took over my whole body?"
Her voice is fragile, almost childlike, as if she doesn't fully belong here. She turns her head suddenly, seeing her mother's tear-streaked face hovering over her.
For the first time in years, Reina isn't yelling. She's crying. Vulnerable. Small.
Shion — or Hana — doesn't know what to do. Her chest rises and falls quickly, panic building. She isn't used to this side of her mother. She doesn't know how to comfort.
She reaches up shakily and taps her mother's arm, eyes wide with confusion.
Hana (soft, unsure, shy):
"Mama? ...What's wrong?"
Her mother's sobs only deepen. Hana's breath hitches. She stares at her, at the tears, at the rawness — and suddenly the world tilts—
⸻
SHION'S PRESENT ROOM – NIGHT
Shion jerks awake with a gasp. The sweat on her forehead cools against the pillow. She sits up violently, clutching her chest, eyes darting around.
The posters on her walls. The soft hum of the refrigerator. The faint sound of a TV somewhere in the house.
This isn't the past anymore. She's home. Her foster home.
Her throat dries. She pushes herself off the bed, feet stumbling against the floor. Her body feels like it doesn't belong to her.
She runs down the hallway, breath catching, her hand brushing the wall for balance.
⸻
In the kitchen with both Itsuki and Daiki..
Daiki and Itsuki sit at the table. The room is warm with the glow of the overhead light, the clatter of chopsticks, the faint echo of a football game from the living room.
Itsuki is leaned forward, absentmindedly poking at his rice. Daiki scrolls on his phone, grinning faintly at something before shoving another bite into his mouth.
Daiki (sighing dramatically):
"Ugh this is disgusting.. cant wait for Mom and Dad to get home and cook us something delicious."
Shion bursts in.
She freezes at the sight of them — two familiar faces, so ordinary, so present — and her knees buckle. She crashes to the floor.
Itsuki (immediately, alarmed):
"Oi, Shion! What are you doing?! Get up!"
He pushes his chair back so fast it screeches against the floor. His face is pale with concern, but his voice comes out sharp, almost scolding.
Daiki is already out of his chair, rushing to her side. He crouches, steadying her by the arms.
Daiki (calm, reassuring):
"Hey, hey... it's okay. You're okay. Slow down."
He glances up at Itsuki, then back at Shion.
Daiki (to Itsuki, grim):
"She's been like this a lot. Passed out at the club. Then again on the sidewalk. Doctors keep saying it's nothing..."
Shion pushes him away weakly, her eyes wild.
Shion (desperate, panicked):
"What's today? Tell me! What's the date?!"
The boys look at each other. Itsuki's brows furrow, suspicion flickering across his face.
Itsuki (slow, careful):
"...June 12th. 2025."
Shion's body slackens. She lets out a long, uneven sigh, like she's been holding her breath for years. Her legs wobble as she stumbles toward the table.
She drops into the chair heavily, elbows propped up, chin pressed into her palm. Her eyes glaze over as she picks at the food in front of her, spinning Daiki's chopsticks lazily, her movements detached.
Daiki (disgusted, looking at Shion):
"How can you just casually eat after me?"
Shion ignores him.
Itsuki doesn't take his eyes off her. He studies the way she chews too slowly, the way her gaze floats from her food to him with a distant emptiness.
Shion (snapping suddenly, waving her hand in front of his face):
"Hey! Earth to Itsuki! Why are you zoning out on me? AND THIS FOOD IS DISGUSTING WHO MADE IT?"
Daiki avoids eye contact, going to sit on the couch and turn the tv on.
Her pout is exaggerated, childish, but her eyes are tired. Itsuki cracks a smile, standing abruptly.
Itsuki (grinning, lighthearted):
"Come on. Let's go to your art room."
He strides ahead before she can argue.
Shion sighs but gets up, glancing back. Daiki's eyes flick to hers. He's watching. Always watching. But when she notices, he quickly averts his gaze, turning his attention back to the TV.
⸻
The room is cozy but cluttered, the scent of turpentine and old wood hanging in the air. Canvases lean against the walls, paintbrushes scattered in cups.
Itsuki sits in front of an easel, one leg bouncing. He tilts his head at the painting displayed, lips curving faintly.
Itsuki (curious, tapping his leg):
"Who's this? You never paint people."
Shion's stomach drops. On the canvas is Toru's face, half-finished, the strokes hesitant but alive.
Her muscles tense. Her throat tightens. She grabs a red brush, lifting it like a weapon, ready to slash an X across the painting.
But her hand falters. Her mind flashes — Toru's laugh in the car, the way his voice dropped when he said he'd walk her home, his flustered face leaning away.
Her arm drops. The brush clatters onto the table.
Shion (whispering, guilty, to herself):
"...I can't."
Itsuki eyes her closely.
Itsuki:
"Can't.. what?"
Shion (suddenly blurting, concerned):
"Did you really take the train here again? Just to sit and watch football with Daiki?"
Itsuki scratches the back of his head, avoiding her gaze.
Itsuki (awkward, fumbling):
"I... was thinking of maybe moving in here. With you guys."
Shion bolts upright, eyes wide with excitement.
Shion (clapping, grinning):
"Really?! That would be so much fun! But... what about Mumu? She'll be all alone."
Itsuki chuckles, nodding faintly.
Shion frowns, softer this time.
Shion (gently):
"...Then let's bring her here. Buy her a train ticket. All four of us together again. Like before."
Itsuki's phone buzzes. The name Keiko (Mom) flashes on the screen. Shion notices.
Itsuki's jaw tightens. He declines instantly.
Shion (suspicious, nosy):
"Why didn't you answer Keiko's call?"
Itsuki's eyes flash with irritation. He brushes past her, leaving the room without a word.
Itsuki (cold, furious):
"Stop being nosy."
Shion (snapping back):
"You were being nosy when you asked about my painting!"
Itsuki turns around snapping back at her.
Itsuki:
"MAYBE CAUSE I WANTED TO BUY IT OR SOMETHING."
Shion clicks her tongue.
Shion:
"Liar."
⸻
Itsuki drops onto the couch beside Daiki, annoyed from the argument with Shion.
But he quickly calms down before speaking.
Itsuki (quiet, uncertain):
"You think your foster parents would really let me stay here?"
Daiki shrugs, his eyes still on the football game.
Daiki (casual, dry):
"Yeah. Why not? Did you tell Shion about those texts you've been getting?"
Itsuki stiffens. His hands curl into fists.
Itsuki (gritting teeth):
"They keep saying my dad was murdered. But he died in a plane crash. It was an accident... so what the hell do they mean?"
Daiki leans back, exhaling.
Daiki (flat, almost mocking):
"Then stop sulking. Go to the police. Tell your mom. Or confront whoever's messaging you."
Itsuki glares, shoving Daiki's feet off his lap.
Itsuki (snapping, frustrated):
"Easy for you to say. You're not the one living it."
The front door bursts open. Noriko and Hiroshi stagger inside, arms heavy with groceries. Their faces are weary but warm.
Itsuki jumps up immediately, rushing to help Noriko with the bags. Daiki stays sprawled on the couch, smirking.
Daiki (yelling lazily):
"Shion! Help Mom and Dad with the groceries!"
The door to the art room slams open. Shion storms out, hair messy, expression annoyed.
Shion (grumbling under her breath):
"...Why is it always me?"
She takes a bag from Hiroshi anyway, her small hands gripping tightly as she shuffles toward the kitchen.
The kitchen table is cluttered with grocery bags now unpacked — vegetables, instant ramen packs, a few canned drinks. Noriko and Hiroshi, Shion's foster parents, sit slumped in their chairs, exhaustion written across their faces. Their hair is slightly damp with sweat from carrying bags, their voices husky with weariness.
Daiki lounges back in his seat, chopsticks dangling in his hand as he scrolls his phone with the other. Itsuki sits stiffly, posture too straight, glancing at Noriko and Hiroshi with something caught in his throat. Shion stuffs rice into her mouth like she hasn't eaten all day, her cheeks puffing out.
The TV in the corner drones on about a late-night talk show, laugh tracks echoing faintly.
⸻
Noriko (sighing, rubbing her temples):
"Work was hell today. The office hasn't replaced Saito yet, so everything falls on me. I swear, I'm doing three people's jobs."
Hiroshi (grumbling, leaning back in his chair):
"You think that's bad? Some idiot left the warehouse unlocked. We spent hours recounting every single shipment. And my back still hurts."
He stretches, his shirt riding up slightly, then exhales heavily.
Daiki (smirking, not looking up from his phone):
"Sounds like you two had fun."
Noriko (snapping, tired but sharp):
"Daiki. Phone down while we're eating."
Daiki groans dramatically, tossing his phone onto the table with a loud clack.
Daiki (mock innocent):
"Fine, fine. At least Shion's eating enough for all of us."
He gestures with his chopsticks toward Shion, who freezes mid-bite, cheeks full of rice.
Shion (muffled, glaring, mouth full):
"Shut up!"
Daiki (grinning, leaning back):
"Look at her—hamster cheeks. You're gonna choke one day."
Shion slams her chopsticks down, face red.
Shion (snapping):
"Why do you always pick on me?! And you guys—"
She turns to her foster parents and Itsuki, eyes narrowing.
Shion (angry, accusing):
"—you just sit there and let him do it! Don't you care if he bullies me?!"
Itsuki raises his hands in surrender, smirking faintly.
Itsuki (teasing, shrugging):
"Honestly, you do kinda eat like a hamster."
Shion (furious):
"Itsuki! Not you too!"
Noriko groans, rubbing her eyes.
Noriko (exasperated, muttering):
"I am too tired for this."
Hiroshi (slamming his chopsticks down gently, voice low):
"Enough. Everyone eat quietly. You have school tomorrow."
Silence settles awkwardly. The only sound is the clink of chopsticks against bowls. Shion huffs, crossing her arms, stabbing at her rice with exaggerated irritation.
⸻
Itsuki clears his throat. His eyes flick toward Noriko and Hiroshi.
Itsuki (hesitant, almost formal):
"...Can I ask you something?"
Noriko looks up, blinking slowly. Hiroshi glances sideways, already sensing it's not something simple.
Noriko (soft, tired):
"What is it, Itsuki?"
Itsuki shifts in his seat, fingers drumming on the table.
Itsuki (serious, quietly):
"...I was wondering if I could... stay here. With you. Move in."
Daiki looks up sharply, brows raising. Shion freezes mid-bite, rice halfway to her mouth.
Noriko and Hiroshi exchange a look. Noriko leans back, folding her arms. Hiroshi scratches at his chin, weighing it.
Noriko (carefully):
"It's not that we don't care, Itsuki... but that's a big decision. You still have your mother."
Hiroshi (gruff but gentle):
"And what about Mumu? Would she be alright without you?"
Itsuki's jaw tightens. His phone buzzes against the table — a harsh vibration breaking the moment. Everyone looks at it.
On the screen: Unknown Number.
Itsuki snatches it quickly, turning it over so they can't see. He presses decline.
Shion (suspicious, squinting):
"...You keep ignoring your mom's calls. And now that? What are you hiding, Itsuki?"
Itsuki shoots her a glare, his face darkening.
Itsuki (snapping, cold):
"It's none of your business."
The air grows heavy. Hiroshi exhales, rubbing his forehead.
Hiroshi (tired, blunt):
"I said eat quietly. Enough of this."
⸻
A few beats pass. Daiki breaks the silence, his voice lighter.
Daiki (grinning, to Shion):
"You should've seen her earlier. She asked us what day it was. Like she forgot what year it is."
Shion stiffens, cheeks reddening.
Shion (snapping):
"Shut up! I was just... tired!"
Daiki chuckles, leaning back smugly.
Daiki (mocking, sing-song):
"She's losing it..."
Shion slams her hands onto the table, glaring.
Shion (furious, almost shaking):
"Why do you always make fun of me?! Why don't you guys ever defend me?!"
Noriko rubs her temples harder, muttering under her breath.
Noriko (exhausted, sharp):
"I cannot do this tonight. All of you—finish eating and then bed. You have school."
⸻
They eat in silence for a long stretch. The TV laugh track fills the void.
Then Hiroshi speaks suddenly, voice low and rough, like the words just slipped out before he could stop them.
Hiroshi (blurting, absent-minded):
"...They said a student from your school committed suicide. A girl. They're holding a memorial next week."
Everyone freezes.
Shion's chopsticks clatter against her bowl. Her breath catches, her body rigid.
Shion (shaking, voice small):
"...What did you say?"
Hiroshi glances at her, confused at her intensity.
Hiroshi (slow, careful):
"Her name was Hana, I think? ...First-year, maybe second? They didn't say much. Just that it was... sudden."
The room tilts. Shion's heart stops. Her eyes sting with tears, her chest tightens like it's caving in.
Shion (whispering, trembling):
"...Uh.. I have school tomorrow.. goodnight.."
She pushes her chair back suddenly. The legs scrape violently against the floor. Everyone watches in shock as she stumbles away from the table.
Shion (choking, eyes red):
"I—I can't—"
She bolts down the hallway, slamming her door shut behind her.
⸻
The table is left in stunned silence.
Daiki stares after her, brows furrowed. Itsuki grips his phone tightly, unreadable. Noriko sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose. Hiroshi scratches his head, regret flashing across his face.
Daiki (confused, muttering):
"...Why did she react like that?"
No one answers.
The only sound left is the faint clatter of chopsticks and the hum of the TV laugh track, hollow against the heavy silence.
Daiki eyes widen as he suddenly figures out why.
Daiki (memory coming to him, in a rush):
"Hana.. HANA OH! HANA THAT HANA AH!"
Daiki runs towards Shion room, knocking immediately.
Everyone looks confused but just passes it off.. but Daiki on the other hand he already knows everything, he's the only one who knows about Shion's past in this house.
_____________________________________
End of chapter 11