The sound of a car eased to a stop in front of the house, and Haruka's voice came from the driver's seat, warm but tired. "We're here, Ryoushi."
My eyes were already fixed on the house. It stood a little ways off the side of the road, simple in design, yet it carried a sense of calm that our cramped city apartment had never given me. Compared to the noisy streets and tight buildings of the city, this house felt open, with space to breathe.
This was Kuoh—a small town, as Aunt Haruka had explained during the drive. It had taken us nearly an hour and a half to get here because of the mild traffic, but to me, it felt like more than just a drive. It felt like we were crossing a line from one part of my life into another.
I stepped out of the car, closing the door carefully behind me. A small school bag rested on my back, and I clutched a water bottle in my hand. My gaze lingered on the house before me. It was a proper home, the kind I had only seen in pictures or on television before.
There was a neat little yard in front, green and tended, with a tree that stretched its branches outward as if in welcome. A few plants lined the side of the path leading to the main door, which stood tall and steady. The house itself rose into two stories, white walls reflecting the soft afternoon light.
It looked nothing like the places I had lived before—not the small apartment with Father in the city, and not even the apartment I remembered from Mark's past life. Both of those were narrow spaces, built more out of necessity than comfort.
But this… this looked like a place where new memories could be made. A place that felt alive.
I took a deep breath, letting the fresh air fill my lungs. Somehow, it felt different here—cleaner, calmer, almost soothing in a way I hadn't felt in a long time.
It was strange; this was still the city, technically, but just the little bit of green around this place was enough to make my mood lift. I glanced back and caught Aunt Haruka watching me with a gentle smile.
Haruka thought he looked so cute like that, quietly marveling at something as simple as air. The sight made her chest ache with both fondness and sadness.
She had known his father, Hiroshi, for many years now. At first, they had only been colleagues, her the senior tasked with teaching him the ropes of the company. He had picked up the work quickly, yet despite his skill, he didn't stay long. Just three years, and then he left to start a clothing business with his wife.
That woman—Ryoushi's mother—had died at childbirth. Haruka had never met her, not in person, but she remembered Hiroshi's voice on the phone after her passing, carrying a sorrow he tried to bury beneath duty.
Even then, he still called her often for advice—about parenting, about raising a boy he wasn't sure he could handle alone. And because she had Heena, she answered him, sharing her own experience of motherhood.
Slowly, their conversations turned into something more comfortable, a bond neither of them had expected: friendship born from loss and responsibility.
But fate had never been kind. Her husband died suddenly of a heart attack, leaving her reeling. His family had turned her away, driving her out of the home she and her husband had built together.
With nowhere else to go, she returned here—her childhood house, heavy with memories but empty of parents, who had passed when she was in college.
Those years blurred together with grief and survival, until one day Hiroshi called. He had heard of her condition and offered her partnership in his small shop.
At first, she had refused, suspecting he wanted more than he claimed. But Hiroshi had only wanted to give her a chance. She eventually joined him, and side by side they worked.
Years later, when Ryoushi was six and Heena was nine, Hiroshi had finally told her what he truly wished.
He wanted Haruka to become a mother figure for Ryoushi.
At first, she had rejected the idea, insisting she couldn't marry again. Hiroshi had laughed then, telling her he didn't want marriage either—only for her to love his son like her own. In return, he would be a father to Heena.
She had agreed. And for a time, they had been a family.
But tragedy came again, and she was left here, standing once more at the door of her old home.
The memories brought a sting to her eyes, and before she could stop it, a single tear slid down her cheek. She quickly shook her head, brushing it away. She couldn't let herself crumble. Not now.
She bent down, wrapping her arms around Ryoushi from behind.
"I'll protect you from everything," she whispered.
Her embrace warmed me, and though I couldn't quite turn my head, I smiled. "Then I'll protect you and Heena too. I'm the man now."
Haruka let out a soft giggle at his words, the heaviness in her chest easing. This boy—so sweet, so stubborn—was far too cute. She pinched his cheek gently before straightening up.
"Let's go inside," she said, her voice lighter now.
I nodded, clenching my hand into a small fist. Already, I had made my decision: I would use the system to its fullest.
Behind me, Elara's calm voice hummed in my mind. "The plants in the yard are a mixture of decorative and herbal species. I'll catalog them for you."
Her words faded into the background as I looked up at the house. Whatever awaited inside, it was the beginning of something new.