Part 6 — A Morning Without Akari
Morning arrived quietly.
Soft sunlight slipped through the bedroom window and slowly spread across the floor.
For the first time in years—
there was no sound of Akari moving around downstairs.
No dishes.
No footsteps.
No voice reminding them to wake up.
Just silence.
Kaito was the first to open his eyes.
He stared at the ceiling for several moments.
Then slowly sat up.
The room was still.
Ayame remained asleep on one side.
Haruto on the other.
Kaito glanced between them.
Both were there.
For some reason—
that alone made him feel slightly better.
He quietly climbed out of bed and headed toward the bathroom.
A few minutes later, he returned with damp hair and a more awake expression.
He looked toward Ayame.
"…Ayame."
No response.
"…Ayame."
She groaned softly and opened one eye.
"…Morning."
"…Morning."
Ayame slowly sat up.
The first thing she did was glance toward Haruto's futon.
Still occupied.
Only then did she relax.
A few minutes later, the two stood beside Haruto.
"…Haruto."
Nothing.
"…Haruto."
Still nothing.
Kaito crossed his arms.
"…He's pretending."
One eye immediately opened.
"…I'm not."
"…You are."
"…I'm not."
Ayame sighed.
"…Get up."
"…Five more minutes."
"…No."
"…Three?"
"…No."
"…One?"
"…Haruto."
"…Fine."
He sat up dramatically.
His hair was sticking out in every direction.
Kaito pointed immediately.
"…You look weird."
"…You look weird."
"…You copied me."
"…You copied me."
Ayame turned around and started walking away.
"…Bathroom. Both of you."
The argument ended immediately.
After everyone had washed up and changed into their academy uniforms, they headed downstairs.
Ayame noticed several containers sitting on the kitchen counter.
A small note rested beside them.
She picked it up.
The handwriting was familiar.
Yuji.
"…Breakfast."
Haruto looked over.
"…What?"
Ayame opened one of the containers.
Inside was simple food prepared for the morning.
Nothing fancy.
Just enough for the three of them.
"…Yuji-san left this yesterday."
Kaito blinked.
"…Seriously?"
Ayame nodded.
Then she heated the food.
Soon, the kitchen filled with warmth and the smell of breakfast.
The three sat together afterward and quietly ate.
The atmosphere wasn't sad.
Just tired.
Everyone still seemed exhausted from everything that had happened.
Once they finished, they packed their things and stepped outside.
The village already looked different from normal.
More patrols.
More shinobi moving through the streets.
More people speaking quietly.
Even the shopkeepers seemed distracted.
Nobody looked relaxed anymore.
The triplets walked toward the academy together.
For a while, nobody spoke.
Then Kaito suddenly stopped.
"…Wait."
Ayame looked over.
"…Hm?"
"…What are we doing for lunch?"
Haruto blinked.
"…Oh."
Ayame answered immediately.
"…Miri will bring it."
"…Miri?"
"…Yuji-san told us yesterday."
Kaito frowned.
"…When?"
"…Yesterday."
"…During all that?"
"…Yeah."
Kaito rubbed the back of his head awkwardly.
"…I didn't hear him."
Haruto immediately looked over.
"…How?"
"…What do you mean how?"
"…How do you miss something like that?"
"…There were explosions!"
"…Still."
"…Still what?"
"…You never hear anything."
"…I do."
"…No you don't."
Ayame sighed.
"…Can you two not start this early?"
"…He started it."
"…He started it."
The responses came at exactly the same time.
Ayame closed her eyes.
"…Unbelievable."
Eventually the academy gates appeared ahead.
Students were already entering.
Some chatting.
Some unusually quiet.
The triplets passed through the gates and made their way toward their classroom.
As they entered—
something immediately felt off.
Not because of what was there.
Because of what wasn't.
Yuna's seat was empty.
Haruto noticed first.
Then Kaito.
Then Ayame.
The three exchanged a glance.
Other students had noticed too.
Small conversations were already happening around the room.
"…Maybe she's sick."
"…Maybe she got hurt."
"…Maybe she's helping at home."
Nobody really knew.
Haruto slowly sat down.
His eyes remained fixed on the empty seat.
Yesterday's explosions immediately returned to his mind.
Kaito noticed it too.
His expression slowly tightened.
One empty seat.
That was all it took.
Because after everything that had happened recently— empty seats no longer felt normal.
They felt frightening.