At the front door, Shido was about to storm out when he ran right into Mr. Kamitani. "Give me some way, Dad," Shido muttered, trying to push past.
Mr. Kamitani grabbed Shido's shoulder, his grip firm. "What happened? Did someone say something?"
"I'm just not well!" Shido shouted, his voice cracking. "Let me go!"
"No," Mr. Kamitani said calmly. "Help me find your mother first. Then we can talk."
He didn't let go of Shido's hand. He led the boy back into the living room. Shido tried to resist, his face red with embarrassment, but Mr. Kamitani held on tight.
"Does anyone know where Yuna is?" Mr. Kamitani asked the room. A woman pointed toward the back hallway. Just then, the door creaked open.
Mrs. Kamitani stepped out.
Mr. Kamitani let go of Shido and rushed to her. He stopped when he saw her. Her eyes were watery and red. Her hair was messy, and her sleeves were damp from wiping away tears. She looked like she had seen the end of the world.
"Yuna? Are you okay? What happened in there?"
Mrs. Kamitani didn't seem to hear him. Her gaze moved past him, searching the room. "The children..." she whispered. "Are they here? Are they safe?"
"Yes," Mr. Kamitani said, trying to calm her. "Shiyi is in the kitchen. Tamiko is right there. And Shido..."
When she heard Shido's name, her eyes widened in disbelief. "Shido? He's here? Right now?"
"Yeah, I'm right here, Mom," Shido said, stepping forward. His anger vanished as he saw her state. "Is Mrs. Amamiya okay? Why are you looking at me like that?"
Without a word, Mrs. Kamitani rushed forward. She wrapped her arms around Shido, burying her face in his neck and sobbing loudly.
The room went dead silent.
The gossiping women leaned in, whispering. "Look at that... why is she crying over the adopted one like that? So dramatic."
Tamiko stopped her work, her eyes wide with worry. Shiyi stood in the kitchen doorway, staring in confusion.
"Mom?" Shido asked, his voice shaking. "What happened? What's wrong?"
Mr. Kamitani grabbed his wife's shoulders. "Yuna, talk to me! What did Yuriko say to you?"
Mrs. Kamitani just held Shido tighter, as if she were trying to hide him from an invisible monster.
_THE KAMITANI HOUSEHOLD_
Kento's room was a boy's paradise. The walls were lined with shelves where thick law textbooks leaned against stacks of comic books. A half-finished board game sat on the rug, and a neon-blue light from his computer desk cast a glow over a massive map of Tokyo pinned to the wall.
The map was messy—red strings connected newspaper clippings to specific districts, a sign of Kento's obsession for journalism.
Kento sat cross-legged on the bed, his green eyes locked on the monitor. Beside him, Kashima sat stiffly, holding the controller like it was a delicate piece of glass.
GAME OVER.
The screen flashed red.
Kashima sighed and let the controller drop onto the blanket. He leaned back, his blonde hair spilling across Kento's pillows as he stared at the ceiling.
"Bored already?" Kento teased, not looking away from the screen. "Or is the 'Genius' of the elite academy allergic to losing?"
"There's no point, Kamitani," Kashima muttered, his blue eyes watching the ceiling fan spin slowly. "I've lost six times in a row. My brain isn't wired for hitting random buttons."
"Maybe if you actually came over more than once a year, you'd get the hang of it," Kento said. He began to gather the empty soda cans scattered on the floor. "I've invited you every weekend since the term started."
Kashima turned his head, looking at the
organized mess of Kento's life. "You know how my house is. If I'm not studying, I'm 'wasting potential.' My father doesn't exactly view Street Fighter as a career path."
Kento stopped gathering the cans. He looked at the map on his wall, then back at Kashima.
"Kashima, look at me. God gave us eyes in the front of our heads so we could look forward—not down at our feet. Why spend your whole life waiting for permission to breathe? You're alive right now. That's the only permission you'll ever need."
Kashima stared at him. "Easy for you to say. My mother is a ghost who's never home, and my father... he doesn't listen. He just dictates."
Kento grumbled, tossing a crumpled napkin at him. "Maybe you should punch him next time he starts a lecture. See if he's actually a statue. Statues don't listen either, but at least they have the decency to stay quiet."
Kashima let out a rare, genuine chuckle. "He might actually break if I did that."
The door pushed open with a soft creak. Hori stepped in, balancing a tray. On it were small, warm chocolate lava cakes dusted with powdered sugar, and a bowl of fresh whipped cream on the side. The rich, sweet smell of cocoa instantly filled the room.
"Snack break," she announced, sliding the tray onto the low table.
"You're a lifesaver, Hori," Kento said, reaching for one of the warm brownies.
Kashima sat up, watching her adjust the cups. "Since when did the nation's favorite actress learn to navigate a kitchen?"
Hori pouted, her cheeks puffing out slightly. "I'll have you know my mom and I spend every Sunday morning perfecting our recipes. It's the only time the kitchen isn't banned."
She paused, her smile fading as she caught the look on Kashima's face. The mention of 'mother-daughter bonding' hung in the air—a warmth Kashima didn't recognize. "Oh... Kashima, I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"
"It's fine," Kashima cut her off, though his gaze dropped to the floor. "It sounds... nice."
Kento quickly grabbed a cookie, putting half of it into his mouth. "Mmm! This is amazing. Shido is an idiot—he's always complaining that your cookies taste like 'effort and sadness.' He's missing out."
Hori let out a small laugh, her pink eyes brightening. "Shido doesn't understand good food is. He only eats things that come out of a convenience store wrapper."
"Maybe he was a renowned chef in a past life," Kashima added, a small smirk returning. "And now he's just protesting the quality of modern ingredients."
All three of them laughed, the tension in the room finally breaking. But as the laughter died down, Kento's expression shifted. He set the cookie back on the tray, his gaze becoming uncharacteristically heavy.
Hori noticed instantly. She sat down on the edge of the rug, her eyes searching Kento's face. "Kento? What is it? Is the tea too hot?"
Kento didn't look at her. He looked at Kashima, who was now watching him closely. Kento's usual carefree energy was gone.
"Kashima," Kento started, making a weird face like he was swallowing something bitter.
"I know you're the most practical guy I know. You like logic. You like things you can see and touch."
Kashima put his cup down. "Yeah, so..?"
"Do you believe in it?" Kento asked, his voice dropping a level. "Reincarnation? Spirits? The idea that... maybe we aren't just one life? That there's something else?"
Kashima stopped moving. The playful atmosphere of the room vanished, replaced by a sudden, chilling stillness.
_AMAMIYA HOUSEHOLD_
_AFTER A WHILE_
The kitchen was small and smelled of damp floor and old spices. A single yellow bulb flickered every few seconds. On the counter, a pot of curry bubbled with a thick, wet glub-glub sound.
Mr. Kamitani stood by the sink, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He hummed a low tune as he chopped a tomato. The blade sliced through the red skin with a crisp squelch, juice staining the wooden board. He glanced at his wife, Yuna. Her black hair was messy, a few strands sticking to her damp forehead as she stirred the pot.
"Yuna," he said, his green eyes softening as he watched her. "Look at the state of this place. The ceiling has water stains, and I'm pretty sure that window doesn't even close all the way. After today... we should bring Yuriko to our house. She shouldn't be here alone."
Mrs. Kamitani didn't stop stirring. The wooden spoon scraped against the bottom of the metal pot. "I can't do that, dear," she whispered. She looked at the steam rising into her face. "I've decided. I'm staying here. I'll live here with Yuriko for a while."
Mr. Kamitani stopped chopping. "Here? But what about home? What about the boys?"
"That's exactly why," she said, finally looking at him. "If I bring Yuriko to our house, Kento and Shido will see her... like that. She screamed in her sleep, Ayato. She talks to people who aren't there. I won't have our sons living in a house of shadows. I won't make them uncomfortable in their own home."
Mr. Kamitani sighed, leaning against the counter. 'She always puts the boys first,' he thought. 'Even when her own heart is breaking.'
"Fine," he said gently. "But what happened in that room, Yuna? What did Yuriko say to you?"
Mrs. Kamitani's hand trembled on the spoon. She quickly turned her head away. "The curry... it's too thick. Go check the fridge. Fetch me the milk."
Mr. Kamitani stared at her back for a second. 'Avoiding the subject again,' he realized. He wiped his hands on a towel and walked to the old, rust-spotted refrigerator.
---