Coco's pov
By the time Kairo finished with me, I was lighter, like he had siphoned out the heaviness I'd carried in with me, but it was Kyle's lingering presence I couldn't shake, the way his eyes seemed to find me, the quiet attention he gave without words.
On the drive home, he played that silly Japanese video. I didn't mean to laugh so loud, but the humour hit me before he even had the chance to explain. "baka yorō," I muttered under my breath, shaking my head. Damn idiot. His eyes had flicked to me so sharply it startled me, like my laugh had struck a chord in him.
I kept thinking about that, his surprise, the shadow of a smile pulling at his lips, as if he'd discovered a secret about me. He parked us at a cliff that overlooked the ocean, claiming he wanted to stretch out the evening. I pretended not to notice the truth, that he simply wasn't ready to let me go, or am I dreaming, like making this shit up?
But eventually, he did. And when I got home, the walls swallowed me whole.
I had barely closed the front door before the storm hit. My stepmother's eyes narrowed, catching the flush in my cheeks, the softness in my step like I had carried joy home with me. "Where have you been, you insolent child?" she hissed.
"With Kairo," I said quickly. "Studying."
"Studying," she repeated, mocking, her lips curling into a sneer. "Don't you dare think I don't see the way you prance around. Coming home late like a slut. Sleeping your way around while your father lays cold in the grave."
Her hand shot out before I could flinch. The slap burned across my cheek, white heat that stung more than the words. Why must my dad be used as a weapon to crush me?
Her daughter, my stepsister, chimed in with a smirk. "Disgusting. Baba is probably turning in his grave right now." Another shove. Nails grazed my neck. "Look at you. Filthy."
They cornered me, their voices overlapping, the strikes were not even about inflicting pain anymore but about grinding me down until I became smaller, smaller, smaller.
By the time it was over, my cheek was swelling, my neck scratched raw, my chest tight with humiliation I couldn't swallow. I will never understand why I don't even deserve small pockets of happiness in this life. Not since my dad died. I stumbled to my room, locked the door, pressed trembling fingers to my skin.
That's when the phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
Hi, it's Kyle. Hope you made it into your home safe.
The irony of it split me open. My hands shook so badly I almost dropped the phone. Home was never safe.
I wanted to respond, but my tears blurred the screen. I also didn't want him to sense there was something wrong, and then the sharp shrill of the landline downstairs broke through the walls. My stepmother's voice carried, shifting from venom to syrup.
"Kyle! … Oh, what a surprise."
My breath caught. Kyle. Calling here. My saving grace.
Kyle's pov
She laughed. God, she laughed.
It wasn't the polite, restrained sound I'd expected from someone as careful as her, it was real, sudden, almost too bright for the silence of my car. It struck me in the chest, like the world had tilted for half a second. I don't know why it brought me so much joy, but it did.
And then she spoke Japanese. Not halting, not rehearsed. Fluent, natural. As if there were a thousand layers to her I hadn't even begun to uncover. She is everything. Everything that feels right for me right now.
I couldn't stop thinking about it the entire night. Her laugh echoing. The way her voice wrapped around that foreign tongue and made it hers. It drew me in, deeper, until I knew one thing for certain: I needed more time with her.
So I went to my sister.
"Do me a favour," I told her the next morning, pacing in her room. "Ask Coco to stay the week with you. Pretend you need tutoring help or something."
She raised a brow, smirking. "Is this about my studies or about you?"
I ignored that, though the heat crawling up my neck betrayed me. "Just… make it happen. Our parents are gone this week. I can," I stopped before finishing. I can take her out. I can keep her safe. I can see her smile again.
Later that night, unease nagged at me. I had texted her, but she hadn't responded. Something didn't sit right, so I called her house.
Her stepmother's voice answered, honeyed and false. I hated it on instinct.
"Kyle! What a surprise."
The way she said my name made my teeth clench, but I kept my tone even. "I just wanted to check on Coco. Is she around?"
A pause. Background whispers. I could almost hear the performance in her smile.
"She's resting. Long day."
Something inside me bristled. I didn't believe her, not for a second, but if I pushed, I'd tip my hand. So I swallowed the instinct, forcing a polite reply.
"Please tell her I called."
When I hung up, my chest was still tight. I couldn't name it yet, the dread, the suspicion, the protective urge clawing at me, but I knew one thing: Coco wasn't alright, and I wasn't going to stop until I found out why.
I called again without waiting for my sister to do my bidding, straightened, polite but firm. "Hello, Actually ma'am, it's still Kyle. I should probably run this by you anyway. I was wondering if Coco might be available this week.
My sister Kairo needs some extra tutoring with her exams coming up, and I thought Coco could help. It would be at our place. My parents are out of town, but I'll be around to supervise, of course, because they expect stellar results from Kairo this term. I will pay triple for the trouble ma'am."
There was a long pause. In the background, muffled movement, Coco, maybe, holding her breath. I just knew for a fact there was more than one person on the phone.
Finally, her stepmother's tone shifted, honeyed and false. "Oh, Kyle! Of course. That's very kind of you to think of Coco. I'll… I'll make sure she's available."
I thanked her, but as I hung up, unease tugged at me. The brittle sweetness in her voice didn't sit right with me. I made a silent promise to myself: whatever it took, I'd make sure Coco didn't have to keep retreating into whatever shadows her home was hiding.
For her, I wanted to be the light, safety and refuge.