Haru woke to sunlight spilling through the curtains, warm and soft against his skin. A faint scent of coffee and flowers drifted from somewhere nearby. For a moment, he froze — the memory of his death, the car accident, the hospital — it all rushed back. Then, clarity.
I'm inside the novel.
A small smirk tugged at his lips. He sat up, stretching, feeling the unfamiliar weight of a new world beneath him. And now it's my turn.
---
Morning at the Yuuki Household
"Breakfast's ready!" Zeno's lazy voice called from the kitchen. It sounded casual, but as always, there was a hint of careless charm.
Haru stood and walked into the living area. Zeno's hair was messy, shirt half-tucked, hands deep in pancake batter. The older man moved with an ease that came from never having to take life seriously.
"Good morning, Haru," Zeno said, glancing at him briefly. "Sleep well?"
"Better than ever," Haru replied, smiling faintly. Zeno's eyes flicked toward him, curious for a second, then returned to the pancakes. Completely oblivious. Perfect.
Setsuna moved around the kitchen with quiet efficiency, placing plates on the table. Her movements were precise, almost mechanical, hiding the fatigue in her shoulders.
"Morning," she said softly, her eyes meeting Haru's for a moment. There was a flicker of something — curiosity? Surprise? — before she focused on arranging the silverware.
Haru leaned closer as he passed. "Did you sleep well?" His voice carried a warmth that wasn't forced.
Setsuna blinked, slightly startled. 'Why does he… feel different from what I expected?'
Zeno muttered as he poured coffee, eyes barely lifting from the cup. "Careful, Setsuna. Don't let him burn himself."
Haru chuckled lightly, brushing a strand of hair from Setsuna's shoulder as he handed her a plate. The touch was brief, polite, completely unthreatening — yet enough to send a faint warmth through her chest.
That was… unexpected, Setsuna admitted internally.' Why do I feel that?'
---
Mid-Morning
The soft ring of the doorbell came just as Haru was clearing the table. Zeno, still half-asleep, called out, "Haru, someone's here for you."
Haru opened the door to Riruru Kiska standing on the porch, holding a neat bundle of fabrics. "Good morning, Haru! Zeno said you might want some swatches from Kyusuke's shop?"
"Ah, yes," Haru said smoothly, smiling. "Thank you for bringing them."
Kyusuke peeked from behind her, his eyes narrowing slightly as he sized Haru up. 'Just a kid… but there's something in him. Too calm. Too… aware.'
Haru nodded politely. "Good morning, Mr. Kiska. Lovely day, isn't it?"
Kyusuke grunted. "Sure. Just don't break anything."
Riruru laughed softly, her gaze lingering on Haru a little longer than necessary. 'He's polite… thoughtful. I like that. But why do I feel… this flutter?'
Haru caught her glance with a faint nod. Step one — 'noticed without knowing why. Perfect.'
After a few minutes of casual chatter, the Kisukas departed, fabrics in hand, leaving a subtle trace of warmth in the room.
---
Afternoon Observations
With the visitors gone, Haru found a quiet moment to observe the household. Zeno sprawled on the sofa, magazine in hand, utterly unaware of the subtle tension building around him. Setsuna moved methodically, tidying up the living room, her attention caught by even the smallest details.
'Zeno is blind to everything. Setsuna is cautious. Kyusuke overestimates himself, and Riruru is… soft. Perfect.'
He stepped closer to help with the books she was stacking. "Need a hand?"
Setsuna's eyes flicked up. "I… I guess you could. But be careful."
Their hands brushed as he reached for a book. The touch was fleeting, polite — yet the warmth lingered.
'Why does he feel different? Setsuna wondered. Just a young boy… but something in him is… compelling.'
Across the house from the window, Riruru tilted her head, watching quietly. 'He's kind… and playful. I like that. Maybe more than I should.'
Haru noticed the glance, a tiny smile tugging at his lips. Two small victories in one afternoon. Good start.
---
Evening
By lunchtime, the four adults were gathered around the tablea as the kiska house is invited for lunch. Haru, careful to remain helpful and attentive, naturally inserted himself into conversation.
"Setsuna, the recipe you mentioned yesterday — may I help you with it?" His tone carried a gentle tease, confident but approachable.
Setsuna's cheeks warmed. "Uh… sure. But don't make a mess."
Zeno didn't look up. "Careful — don't ruin my wife's kitchen."
Haru's hand brushed hers as he handed over a bowl. A faint heat ran through her arm. 'Why does he make me feel… this way?'
Riruru noticed too, a flicker of jealousy mixing with curiosity.' I wonder… why do I feel left out when he's near her?'
Haru caught her gaze, tilting his head ever so slightly. 'Patience. Watch, wait, guide. They don't even know they're mine to influence yet.'
As the afternoon faded into early evening, Haru quietly considered the possibilities. He had already noted the cracks, the tensions, and the unspoken desires. The husbands were oblivious. The wives… were already noticing him.
'This will be easier than I thought', he thought, reclining in the quiet of his room after chores were done.' Step by step. First Setsuna, then Riruru. Both drawn to me without knowing why.'
"The game has begun.!!"