The car slowly stopped in front of the grand gates of the Kirisaki residence. The garden lights illuminated the path lightly covered in snow. Chitoge stepped out of the car, the cold air piercing her skin, but her mind was far busier than her shivering body. Claude only gave a short nod, "Have a good rest, Ojou-sama," before walking toward the main door.
Chitoge herself walked slowly to her room. Every step felt heavy, as her head was filled with the images of Raku tonight—his calm gaze, his innocent smile, and... the touch of his hand stroking her head. Her heart pounded again just by remembering it.
"Why is he... truly different...?" she whispered faintly as she opened her room door.
Inside, her room was still the same as usual: neat, fragrant with her favorite flowers, and a large window showing the snow falling gently. Chitoge placed her thick coat aside, then tried to tidy up the scattered books on her desk. However, when she pulled out a stack of old magazines, something fell to the floor with a small Cling.
"Eh...?"
She bent down, picking it up. A small silver key, slightly dull from being untouched for so long. Not a house key, nor a closet key. As her fingers grasped the key, suddenly her mind drifted away.
"Raku's locket... the keyhole... could it be...?"
Her heart raced, confusion mixed with fleeting, vague memories. Chitoge stared at the key for a long moment, then instinctively her eyes moved toward the bookshelf on the side of her room. There, an old storybook with a cover of faded flowers rested.
She slowly pulled it out, blowing the thin dust from its surface. The book was one of her childhood keepsakes, which she used to read over and over again with someone...
Opening its pages, Chitoge held her breath. On the middle page, there were scribbles of a child's handwriting—clumsy, like from small hands, but clearly words of a promise.
"We will meet again. Don't forget this promise. One day... I will open the Locket."
Her hands trembled. The little key in her grasp felt heavier. Chitoge's gaze hardened, yet her face turned red.
"...Is this... that promise...? Could it be... Raku..." she murmured, her voice almost breaking.
She quickly closed the book, pressing her chest that felt tight. "No... it can't be that simple. But... why does it feel like... everything is starting to connect?"
Chitoge looked at the little key in her palm once again, then closed her eyes. That night, in her silent room, she began to realize—that Raku's differences today were not just from memory loss, but perhaps a sign that the truth of the past was slowly opening.
.....
That morning was still dark. Outside, the winter sky was shrouded in a thin mist, snow falling gently like endless feathers.
Raku lay in bed, the blanket covering his body up to his chest. His eyelids opened slightly, his gaze turned toward the window reflecting the faint light of the street lamps. He exhaled deeply, then closed his eyes again, trying to sleep, but his body felt awake—as if his biological clock remembered a routine he himself did not recall.
Several minutes passed, and Raku opened his eyes again. His gaze turned to the wall clock by the side of the room. The long hand pointed at twelve, the short hand exactly at five.
"Five in the morning...? So early..." he murmured softly.
He slowly rose, sitting at the edge of the bed. This time, his body didn't feel as heavy as when he was still in the hospital. He looked at the window, then stood up and opened it. The cold air immediately struck his face and skin. His breath appeared like white smoke each time he exhaled. The falling snow touched his hand and melted slowly.
"...cold... but somehow... it feels calming."
Raku turned toward the study desk. There were several schoolbooks neatly arranged there. Curiosity led him closer. He picked up a math book, flipping through its pages, then put it back. He continued with a history book, skimming through it. Lastly, he found a physical education book.
His eyes fixed on an illustration of the human body showing basic muscles and warm-up movements. He read it for quite a while, about thirty minutes, until he understood a little about basic exercises.
"...so this is... exercise...? Then..."
He set the book down, then stood in the middle of the room. He began stretching simply, following faint memories that seemed to surface automatically in his mind. He tilted his head right, left, rotated his shoulders, then moved his waist.
Crack
"Ughhh..." Raku winced as his back joints cracked loudly. The sensation was similar to how his body felt in the hospital—stiff, but now loosening little by little. He smiled faintly.
"Not bad..."
He then lowered his body, preparing to do push-ups. One... two... up to ten times. His arms shook, his breathing grew heavy, but his body no longer felt cold. Sweat rolled down his temples.
"Haah... so this is what it feels like..." He chuckled softly, exhausted but satisfied.
Since his body was now sweaty, he took a change of clothes from the closet and prepared to bathe. But as he stepped out of the room, his steps halted.
"...where is the bathroom...?" He looked left and right. The Ichijou house felt so spacious, its hallways long with gleaming wooden floors, and the atmosphere still very quiet.
Just as he was about to wander aimlessly, small thuds could be heard from the front yard. He turned, and through the sliding glass door he saw Ryunosuke practicing with a wooden staff, his body moving swiftly with discipline.
Raku slowly opened the door. "Ryunosuke..."
Ryunosuke paused for a moment, sweat dripping down his forehead, then turned. He was surprised. "B-Bocchan!? You're already awake this early? Usually, you wake up much later, you know."
Raku gave a faint smile. "I couldn't sleep again. So... can you show me the bathroom? I want to bathe."
Ryunosuke was stunned for a moment, then smiled emotionally. "Hahaha, of course. Alright, follow me."
They walked together down the long hallway. Raku saw many doors to his left and right that he didn't recognize. Occasionally, he observed the house's interior, feeling both unfamiliar and warm.
Finally, they arrived at a large sliding door. Ryunosuke stopped. "Here, Bocchan. The family bath. It's quite spacious, but that's normal... we're a Yakuza family, so it's usually crowded. Though now it's a bit quiet since everyone's still resting."
Raku turned, his eyes widening slightly as the door opened. "So spacious..."
Inside, a Japanese-style bath stretched out—smooth stone flooring, warm steam rising from a hot-water pool filling half the room, and the faint scent of hinoki wood drifting in the air.
Raku stepped inside, placing his change of clothes down. "Thank you for leading me here, Ryunosuke."
Ryunosuke smiled and gave a deep nod. "You're welcome, Bocchan. If you need anything, just call me." He slid the door closed gently, leaving Raku alone.
Raku undressed, then slowly entered the bath. As his body submerged, warmth enveloped him entirely. He closed his eyes, resting his head against the pool's edge.
"Ahh... so warm..."
He let his body relax, drifting off briefly in the soothing steam of the hot bath.
Raku stepped out of the bathroom with his hair still slightly damp, a small towel hanging around his neck, and simple fresh clothes that made him look more refreshed. Warm steam still lingered on his skin. As he stepped into the hallway, lively noises came from the direction of the dining room.
Laughter, clattering dishes, even small shouts all blended together. Raku paused for a moment, turning toward the source with a surprised expression.
"...so lively... is this my house?" he murmured softly.
He walked slowly, getting closer to the Ichijou family's large dining room. As he slid the door open, his eyes widened. Dozens of people—extended family members, Yakuza subordinates, even several middle-aged women who might be relatives—all sat in rows at a long table overflowing with food.
"Asa gohan daaa! (breakfast!)" shouted one family member cheerfully, followed by loud laughter from others.
"Hurry up and eat, the food will be gone if you're slow!" another chimed in.
Raku stood at the doorway, as if frozen. He had grown used to quietness, staying at the hospital, only accompanied by Ryunosuke, Issei, and sometimes Chitoge. But now... the house felt alive, filled with warmth.
"Bocchan!" Ryunosuke's voice broke his daze. Ryunosuke waved cheerfully. "Come here, your seat is ready."
Issei, who sat nearby, also turned, his face calm yet warm. "Raku, come. Don't be shy. Sit here."
Raku walked slowly, sitting on a cushion between Ryunosuke and Issei. For a moment, he only stared at the table full of food: steaming rice, grilled fish, miso soup, stir-fried vegetables, and other Japanese dishes.
Ryunosuke handed him a bowl of rice. "Bocchan, here. Let's begin eating. As usual, before eating, say..."
Raku bowed slightly, closing his eyes. "...Itadakimasu."
"Itadakimasu!" everyone shouted in unison, their voices filling the room.
Raku began eating slowly. The bustling sound of people chatting made him pause for a moment, then smile faintly. Though unfamiliar, he felt something warm in his chest.
"...so this is... what it feels like... to eat with a big family..." he thought inwardly.
The chatter at the table grew louder:
"Boss, when will we train together again?"
"Hahaha, don't bother him! Let Bocchan rest first!"
"Ah yeah yeah, sorry, sorry!"
The atmosphere was like a lively festival, but filled with laughter. Raku occasionally looked around, observing the happy faces.
After a while, breakfast ended, and people gradually left the table, until only Raku, Ryunosuke, and Issei remained.
Issei looked at him briefly, then signaled to Ryunosuke. Both of them stood up, then returned with a neatly wrapped box tied with a blue ribbon on top.
"Raku," Issei said in a soft yet firm voice. "This... is from us. Today is your birthday."
Raku was shocked. He turned to them, his eyes widening. "...Birthday...? What is that?"
Ryunosuke smiled gently, though his eyes shimmered. "That... is your special day, Bocchan. The day you were born. Usually, we celebrate by giving a gift. Even if you've forgotten... it's alright. Today is still important."
Raku looked at the box. His hands slowly accepted the package, feeling the smooth texture of the wrapping paper. He stared at it for a long moment, then smiled faintly.
"...I... don't know what a birthday is. But... if this is given to me... I feel... very happy."
His hands trembled slightly as he opened the gift. Inside was a silver mechanical pen with delicate engravings on its shaft. It looked simple, but clearly crafted with care.
"This... is for me?" Raku asked softly.
Issei nodded. "Yes. You usually liked writing small notes, Bocchan. We hope... even if you've forgotten, this pen can be a new beginning for you."
Tears slowly rolled down Raku's cheeks. He quickly wiped them away with his hand, smiling innocently. "Thank you... I don't know what else to say. But... I'm really happy."
Ryunosuke bowed deeply, trying to hide his tearful eyes. "Happy birthday, Bocchan..."
Issei gently patted Raku's shoulder. "Happy birthday, Raku. From now on... we'll go through everything together."
The dining room that had once been noisy now felt different: warm, intimate, and meaningful. For Raku, though he had lost many things, for the first time, he felt accepted.