Chiaki's mother had been working as a housekeeper for the Katagiri family ever since Chiaki's father passed away when she was just three years old. The loss of her father had left a void in their small family, and her mother had taken on the role of both parents, working tirelessly to provide for them. Every morning, Chiaki would wake up early, her tiny hands clutching her mother's as they made their way to the Katagiri household. The grand house, with its sprawling garden and elegant architecture, felt like a second home to her. Mrs. Katagiri, a warm and compassionate woman, had taken a liking to Chiaki and allowed her to stay inside the house while her mother worked. She often remarked how Chiaki's presence brought a sense of joy and lightness to the home.
Mrs. Katagiri's eldest son, Hayato, was the same age as Chiaki, and she thought it would be wonderful if the two could become playmates. Hayato, though cheerful, had been feeling a bit lonely since the arrival of his younger brother, Sohei, who was still just a baby. Mrs. Katagiri hoped that Chiaki's presence would fill that gap, and she was right. From the moment they first met, Chiaki and Hayato became inseparable. They spent their days exploring the house and playing in the backyard. The garden became their sanctuary, a place where their imaginations could run wild. Mr. Katagiri, noticing how much the children enjoyed being outdoors, decided to install a swing in the garden just for them. It quickly became their favorite spot, a place where they could laugh and dream together.
One afternoon, as the sun filtered softly through the lace curtains of the sitting room, Mrs. Katagiri sat with a cup of tea while Chiaki's mother folded laundry nearby. Chiaki's laughter echoed from the garden, where she and Hayato were chasing butterflies near the swing.
Mrs. Katagiri looked out the window, a faint smile touching her lips. "That girl… she really does bring such warmth to this house. Hayato has been smiling so much more lately. It's a joy to see."
Chiaki's mother gave a small, grateful nod. "Thank you, Mrs. Katagiri. Chiaki looks forward to coming here every day. I hope she hasn't been a bother."
"Oh, not at all," Mrs. Katagiri replied quickly. "She's a sweet child—gentle, polite, and so bright. You've raised her well."
There was a pause. Mrs. Katagiri's smile softened, but her tone grew more thoughtful. "That said… I've been meaning to speak with you, and I hope you won't take this the wrong way."
Chiaki's mother paused mid-fold, concern flickering in her eyes. "Of course. Please, go ahead."
Mrs. Katagiri set her teacup down. "I think it's time Chiaki stayed home during your working hours."
Surprise flashed across the young mother's face. "Is… is everything alright?"
Mrs. Katagiri nodded gently. "Yes, everything is fine. Truly. But Chiaki is growing. She needs structure—space to explore her own world, not just follow you into ours. Perhaps a local daycare, or maybe she could spend time with neighbors while you work?"
She glanced back out the window, her voice quiet. "Hayato has become quite attached to her. Sohei, too, lights up when she enters the room. But I don't want her to feel like she's simply 'fitting in' here. She deserves a space of her own. And I imagine you do too."
There was a long silence before Chiaki's mother gave a slow nod, eyes glistening. "I understand. It's just… she's all I have."
Mrs. Katagiri stood and walked over, placing a kind hand on her shoulder. "And you're doing wonderfully. But letting her grow in her own way—that's part of loving her too."
In the garden, Chiaki's laughter rang out again, bright and carefree. Inside, her mother smiled wistfully, already imagining what the next chapter might look like for her little girl.
When Chiaki was four years old, she sat on the swing, her small hands gripping the ropes tightly as Hayato stood behind her, pushing her gently. "Higher, Hayato! Higher!" she squealed, her laughter ringing through the garden as she kicked her legs excitedly. Hayato, ever the cautious one, pouted and shook his head. "If I push too hard, you might fly away," he said, his voice tinged with worry. Chiaki giggled, tilting her head back to look at him. "Then catch me if I do!" she teased. Hayato crossed his arms, his expression turning serious. "I will. I won't let you go anywhere without me," he declared, his voice firm. Chiaki beamed at him, not fully understanding the weight of his words but feeling an inexplicable sense of comfort and security. They spent the rest of the afternoon playing make-believe, with Hayato always taking on the role of the brave knight and Chiaki the princess in need of rescuing. Their games were filled with laughter and adventure, and they cherished every moment together.
As the years went by, their bond only grew stronger. One rainy evening, when Chiaki was six, the weather took a turn for the worse, with dark clouds looming overhead and rain pouring down in sheets. Mrs. Katagiri, concerned for their safety, called Chiaki's mother and offered to let them stay the night. Chiaki had never stayed over before, and as bedtime approached, she felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. She clutched her blanket tightly, her wide eyes scanning the unfamiliar room. Hayato, sensing her unease, patted the space beside him on the bed. "Chiaki, you can sleep next to me," he said reassuringly. Chiaki hesitated, her voice soft as she asked, "But what if I have a bad dream?" Hayato's face lit up with determination. "Then I'll chase it away!" he declared proudly. He reached out, grabbing her hand in his. "If you hold my hand, no bad dreams will come," he promised. Chiaki's lips curved into a small smile as she gripped his hand tightly, her fears melting away. True to his word, that night, she slept peacefully, her dreams filled with warmth and safety. From that day on, staying over at the Katagiri household became a regular occurrence, and Chiaki and Hayato's bond deepened even further, their childhood friendship becoming a cornerstone of their lives.
By the time Chiaki and Hayato reached elementary school, their bond had deepened into an unbreakable connection, seamlessly woven into the rhythm of their everyday lives.They ride to school together every morning on Mr Katagiri's car, their backpacks slung over their shoulders as they chatted about everything from homework to their favorite cartoons. At school, they were always by each other's side—eating lunch together, sharing snacks, and sitting next to each other in class. Hayato, even at a young age, had developed a protective instinct toward Chiaki. He would subtly watch over her, his sharp eyes scanning the playground to make sure no one picked on her or made her feel uncomfortable. Chiaki, though shy and soft-spoken, always felt a sense of safety when Hayato was around, as if his presence alone could shield her from the world.
One sunny afternoon during recess, Chiaki was sitting under the shade of a large oak tree, her notebook open on her lap as she sketched a picture of the garden she and Hayato loved so much. The gentle rustling of leaves and the distant laughter of other children filled the air, creating a peaceful atmosphere. But that peace was shattered when a group of older boys, known for their mischief, approached her. One of them snatched her notebook from her hands, holding it high above his head as Chiaki jumped up, her small frame straining to reach it. "Hey! That's mine!" she protested, her voice trembling with frustration. The boys laughed mockingly, flipping through the pages. "What's this? A love letter?" one of them teased, his tone dripping with sarcasm. Chiaki's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and her eyes welled up with tears as she felt helpless and humiliated.
Just as the boys were about to walk away with her notebook, a familiar voice cut through the air like a blade. "Give it back." The boys turned to see Hayato standing a few feet away, his arms crossed over his chest and an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face. His usual playful demeanor was gone, replaced by a steely determination that made even the older boys pause. One of them smirked, trying to regain his composure. "Or what?" he challenged, his voice laced with bravado. Hayato didn't flinch. "Or I'll tell the teacher," he said coolly, his gaze unwavering. "And my dad too. He's on the school board, you know." The mention of Hayato's father, a respected figure in the community, made the boys hesitate. After a tense moment, one of them shoved the notebook back into Chiaki's hands, muttering, "Whatever," before they walked away, their heads down.
Chiaki wiped her tears with the back of her hand and hugged the notebook tightly to her chest, her heart still racing. "Thank you, Hayato…" she whispered, her voice barely audible. Hayato sighed and walked over to her, his expression softening as he reached out to ruffle her hair. "You need to tell me when people bother you," he said firmly, his tone gentle but insistent. "I'll always be here." Chiaki looked up at him, her heart swelling with gratitude and something else she couldn't quite name at the time. It was a warm, fluttering feeling that made her chest tighten, and though she didn't fully understand it, she knew it was because of Hayato.
Years went by, and soon they were in their first year of high school. Though things between them had changed in small ways, their bond was still just as strong. One afternoon, Chiaki sat on a bench in the school courtyard, quietly watching Hayato joke around with his friends. His laughter filled the air, and as always, people were drawn to his easygoing charm.
Chiaki used to think love had to be something big and dramatic—like the grand scenes in movies or fairy tales. But as she watched Hayato's crooked grin light up his face, she realized love could be quiet too. It was in the little things—the comfort of a childhood promise, the steady "I'll always be here," the way he made her feel safe without trying. It was in how he ruffled her hair when she was down, or how he always seemed to show up when she needed him, even if she hadn't said a word.
When Hayato turned to her and met her eyes with that familiar smile, her heart skipped. Suddenly, it all made sense. That warm feeling she'd been carrying wasn't just gratitude or friendship—it was something else. She had liked him for a long time.