After freshening up, Haruka went upstairs to wake the last member of the family.
She stepped into the third room down the hallway—the room of her youngest daughter. Well, "youngest" was relative, since she only had two children. Aiko was the eldest, and this one… Riko.
The room didn't look like the kind most girls her age would have. There were no pastel pink curtains, no plush dolls, no sparkly accessories. Instead, a neatly hung kendo uniform occupied one wall, with a wooden bokken mounted on a support next to it.
The desk held a black monitor, black keyboard, black mouse. Functional. Serious. If a stranger walked in, they would think this was a boy's room.
Haruka padded over to the bed. There, sprawled carelessly across the mattress, Riko slept like the world had ended, one arm flung above her head, her blanket kicked down to her knees. She wore only a loose, sleeveless night shirt, the hem riding up enough to leave her stomach bare.
Despite the summer heat, she had insisted on pulling a blanket over herself last night. Now it was half on the floor, useless.
A faint line of drool trailed from the corner of Riko's mouth, leaving a small white patch on the pillow. Her lips were moving ever so slightly—sleep mumbling, probably nonsense.
Haruka sighed.
"Honestly…" she muttered under her breath, shaking her head.
She leaned down and nudged her daughter's shoulder gently. "Riko. Wake up, come on. You'll be late for school if you keep this up."
"Mmm… five more minutes," Riko mumbled, groaning as she rolled over and turned her back to her mother. "Just five…"
Haruka's lips pressed together in a thin line. She knew this game. Love and patience weren't going to work with this one.
Her eyes landed on the jug of water sitting on the nightstand. Without hesitation, she poured a little into her hand and flicked it onto Riko's face.
The reaction was immediate. "Ahhh—!" Riko twitched violently, slapping at her face like she'd been stung by an invisible bug. Her eyes cracked open, blurry and disoriented.
Haruka, merciless, scooped up another handful and sprinkled it across her daughter's cheek again.
"Ughhh! Cold! Cold!" Riko yelped, sitting bolt upright, hair sticking up at odd angles, sleep gone in an instant.
"Finally awake," Haruka said dryly, setting the jug back down. "Now get moving. Otherwise you'll be late for the school."
At the word "school," Riko's head snapped toward the wall clock. The moment she saw the time, her expression went from dazed to panicked in less than a second.
"Ehh!? Only an hour left!?"
She scrambled out of bed so fast she nearly tripped on her own feet, rushing toward the door without so much as a "good morning."
The sound of her footsteps thundered down the hall.
Left standing alone in the now-messy room, Haruka pressed her fingers to her temples and sighed with a wry smile. "That girl…"
Shaking her head, she gathered herself and began tidying up the room. With everyone awake now, the day could truly begin—and she had plenty to do before it ended.
***
Ryoushi and the others were now at the dining table, with both him and Riko already dressed in their Fujimi High uniforms.
Riko sat with her usual no-nonsense look. Her short hair framed her face, still a little messy from her rushed morning, but she didn't care. She'd always said long hair just got in the way of her kendo practice and was a "pain in the ass" to take care of anyway.
Ryoushi, on the other hand, looked like the complete opposite—his uniform neat, tie properly adjusted, and his posture so sharp he could have passed for a model on the cover of a school magazine. Even at the breakfast table, he carried himself with a quiet confidence.
They had grown up together from a very young age, even before Ryoushi's parents left him in Haruka's care. Childhood friends, sparring partners, sometimes rivals. And now, with Aiko and Haruka, the four of them felt more like a single extended family than anything else.
The television droned in the background as everyone ate. Then the news anchor's urgent tone cut through the quiet clinking of dishes.
"Breaking news: a new mutant attack has been reported at a bus stop in Shibuya. The suspect is currently at large. Two people have been injured. According to witnesses, the injured men were members of the Yakuza, who were threatening the individual with a knife when the person suddenly screamed."
"The resulting soundwave threw the attackers several meters away, causing injuries. Authorities have identified the suspect as a student from Tokyo University. The government has already deployed the Mutant Handling Unit. Citizens are urged to remain cautious."
Riko, chewing on a mouthful of rice, didn't even look up from her plate. "What about those Yakuza idiots? They were threatening the guy. Did they get arrested?"
Aiko, calmly sipping her miso soup, shook her head with a wry smile. "Of course not. You know how it is. Nothing ever happens to them. Yakuza, politicians—they're the same nest of snakes."
Riko snorted under her breath. "Figures."
Ryoushi's eyes lingered on the screen for a moment, but his expression didn't change. Mutant incidents had become so common that this barely registered as unusual anymore.
If anything, it was part of the morning routine now—eat rice, miso, grilled fish, and hear about another "case" on the news.
Many countries had even formed their own hero teams—like the X-Men in America—and Japan had its own answer: the Hero Six.
Five of the members were openly mutants, and the sixth was rumored to be one as well.
They weren't just fighters against crime or disasters; they were public figures now. They appeared at festivals, on magazine covers, and sometimes even on variety shows, smiling for the cameras as if they had no care in the world.
And just like how there were hero teams, there had to be villain teams too. Balance, or maybe inevitability. In America, the headlines were always about some super-powered menace tearing through cities—villains whose names reached the entire world.
Japan was different. Here, the most notorious "villain team" wasn't some flashy lineup of mutants with destructive powers. It was the Yakuza.
Yeah, the same Yakuza everyone said would vanish within the next five years.
Instead, their influence had only grown louder, bolder—like an old ghost refusing to fade away. They weren't global headline-makers, but in their own territories, in their cities and prefectures, their shadow stretched long.
As the television shifted to another segment, Haruka set down her chopsticks with a sigh. "Eat up quickly, both of you. You'll be late for school if you keep watching the news."
"Already on it," Riko said, stuffing the last of her fish into her mouth.
Ryoushi finally spoke up, his voice was calm but earnest. "If you need, I can skip today and help with the house too, you know."
Haruka cut him off immediately, shaking her head. "No need. Just go to school with Riko. Taking care of her is already a full-time job."
"Mom!" Riko snapped, cheeks puffing out as she glared.
Aiko giggled behind her hand, her tone playful. "She's not lying, Riko. You don't exactly hold back when you're swinging that 'katana' around."
"Ugh…" Riko groaned, shoving the last of her rice into her mouth. "Fine, fine, I won't eat anymore. Anyway, today's breakfast wasn't even that good." She mumbled the words while still chewing, deliberately picking at Haruka.
Ryoushi arched a brow, setting his chopsticks down. "If you didn't like it, maybe from tomorrow I'll just cook for three people instead."
That made Riko pause. Her gaze bounced between him and Haruka, then back again, her eyes wide. Haruka, not missing the chance, nodded. "Today too, Ryoushi made breakfast."
There was a beat of silence before Riko's lips twitched.
She forced out a nervous laugh, scratching her cheek. "No, no, the breakfast was great! Really good, yeah! Why would you cook for three people—wait, are there more servings left?" Her eyes darted toward the kitchen like a guilty child suddenly realizing she was still hungry.
Ryoushi only shook his head with a soft chuckle. Rising from his seat, he reminded her, "Eat later. We only have ten minutes left." As he moved, he glanced at Aiko. "Big sister, please wash my dishes."
"Mine too!" Riko added quickly, darting toward the bathroom to wash up before she could get scolded.
Ryoushi followed right after her, leaving Aiko behind with Haruka.
Watching his back disappear around the corner, Aiko smirked, her tone playful as she teased, "Mom, is anyone ever going to marry your little "boy"?"
Haruka shrugged, sipping her tea without much care. "Who knows? If no one does, Ryoushi will take care of her anyway."
"I'm the one who's going to marry him," Aiko shot back with mock seriousness, flipping her hair dramatically.
Haruka laughed, shaking her head. "Yeah, yeah, whatever you say." She leaned back lazily, eating at a slower pace than usual.
With the shop closed today, she finally had the luxury to eat without rushing—though her daughters' antics were more entertaining than the food itself.
***
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