Part 5 — The Choice to Change
When Akari slid open the door at home, familiar voices greeted them.
"Big sister Akari!" Ayame called out immediately.
Kaito followed, calmer but relieved. "You're back."
Akari smiled faintly. "Did you two behave?"
Ayame laughed. "Mostly."
Haruto stepped in quietly behind her.
Ayame noticed at once. Her voice softened. "Haruto…"
Kaito studied him for a second. "You look tired."
Haruto nodded. "I am."
Neither of them pressed further. Ayame gently took his hand and guided him inside, while Kaito slid the door shut.
Haruto glanced once toward the window as he walked in.
The sky outside was peaceful.
Too peaceful.
But for now, he was home—and that was enough.
Haruto sat on the futon, leaning back against the wall while Akari moved around the room, setting things in order. After a moment of silence, he spoke.
"Aka…"
Akari looked over. "Yes?"
"What is the National Police Bureau?" he asked, genuinely curious.
Akari paused, then sat beside him. "They're an organization that gathers reports and information from local police—like the Capital Ward—and passes important matters to the Central Authority."
Haruto nodded slowly, thinking. "Then why did the officers say we needed their permission to talk to the Central Authority?"
Akari exhaled softly. "Because normally, reports go upward. Capital Ward reports to the National Police Bureau, and the Bureau reports to the Central Authority. It's about control and order."
Haruto frowned slightly. "But… Uncle Raijin is the head of the Central Authority, right?"
"Yes," Akari said.
"I didn't know that," Haruto admitted. "Then… where was Dad?"
Akari's eyes softened. "Not in the National Police Bureau."
Haruto tilted his head. "Then… in the Central Authority?"
She shook her head again.
Haruto went quiet for a moment, then looked up at her. "Then where?"
Akari smiled—small, proud, and a little sad. "Your father was going to be Enkage."
Haruto's eyes widened slightly.
Then he smiled.
Not a big smile. Just a calm, understanding one.
"Oh," he said. "That makes sense."
Akari watched him carefully. "Why?"
Haruto looked down at his hands. "Because… he was always walking ahead of everyone else."
Akari didn't respond right away. She simply placed a hand on his head, letting the silence speak for her.
For the first time that day, Haruto looked at peace—not because he understood everything, but because something finally fit.
That peace stayed with him as the evening settled in.
Later, alone in the dim quiet of the room, Haruto sat on the edge of the futon, staring forward. The house was calm—too calm. His thoughts moved slowly now, not spiraling like before, but lining up one by one.
There were things he wanted to do.
And things he couldn't.
He couldn't protect everyone.
He couldn't see every threat.
He couldn't walk ahead like him yet.
But there were responsibilities small enough for his hands to carry.
Being careful.
Being disciplined.
Not becoming a burden.
If he couldn't walk ahead… then he would at least stop falling behind.
That thought stayed with him as he lay down. The tension in his body eased, and for once, sleep came without resistance.
Morning light filtered softly into the room.
Haruto woke before anyone called him. He lay still for a moment, listening to the quiet rhythm of the house, then sat up.
He folded the futon carefully, smoothing the creases, stacking the blanket neatly. When he was done, the space looked orderly—intentional.
Akari noticed as she passed by. She slowed, watching him without saying anything.
Haruto moved to wash his face and brush his teeth, and then changed his clothes, his motions steady and precise. No rushing. No hesitation.
Breakfast was already on the table when he returned.
Ayame and Kaito were there.
They watched quietly as Haruto sat, picked up his bowl, and began eating. He wasn't slow, but he wasn't distracted either. His gaze stayed lowered, thoughtful.
Ayame exchanged a glance with Kaito.
"…You're different today," she said softly.
Haruto paused for a second, then continued eating. "Maybe," he replied.
When he finished, he stood, carried the bowl to the kitchen, rinsed it clean, and placed it back neatly.
Renjiro observed him from the doorway, arms crossed. Akari felt it too—that subtle shift, like something had settled into place inside him.
Haruto returned, adjusted his sleeves, and spoke calmly.
"I'm ready."
No fear.
No rush.
Just quiet resolve.
Akari placed a hand on his head again, briefly this time. Haruto didn't look up—but he didn't pull away either.
Whatever had changed in him last night hadn't faded with sleep.
It had taken root.