It's late afternoon, and the book café finally quiets down. Mei wipes the counter clean, packs up the tools and coffee machine, and carefully sets a vase of lavender back in its corner. She gently touches the soft purple petals and smiles.
"Is this okay, Jun?"
"You hang it crooked—move it a bit to the left."
"Like this?"
"Nope, more to the right now."
"Ugh, what even...?"
The two still struggle with a stack of HiMR6 posters. Mei quietly steps away from the counter and makes her way to the back tables, her ears tuned in to their banter.
"How about now~?"
"Wait—hold on."
Jun's phone rings. Ririka groans and steps off the chair, placing the half-hung poster on the table while Jun answers the call. She gives Mei a firm pat on the shoulder, making the younger girl jump.
"Ugh, it's been hours and we're still not done," Ririka mutters.
"Yeah, we haven't even managed to get a single one on the wall while the café was full," Mei replies.
"Jun's gone full-on promo mode—posters, albums, decorations, you name it. Everything's got HiMR6 plastered on it. I get it's for advertising, but… is something big coming?"
Mei shrugs. She isn't sure either.
"So, when did you and Jun get all buddy-buddy?" Mei asks curiously.
"What? I wish I was as close to her as you are," Ririka teases, nudging Mei's shoulder. "I just talk too much, so she ropes me into helping out. If it weren't Jun, I'd never agree to all this bossing around."
Meanwhile, Jun is still on the phone, her tone hard to read.
"Forget it. Cancel everything for now."
"There's no time to argue. Of course we're busy."
"It isn't sudden—we all see this coming. I'm just glad he finally makes a decision."
"…Really? Alright then. Let's make it a grand comeback. HiMR6's break has lasted long enough for things to reset. Got it. Talk later."
She hangs up and exhales a long, relieved sigh. But when she notices Mei and Ririka still chatting, her face tightens again.
"Ririka, let's get back to it."
The younger girl groans out a "Yes ma'am," rolls her eyes, and climbs back onto the wobbly stool to fix the banner.
Mei sits down and begins arranging a stack of glossy HiMR6 postcards. She pauses briefly at one that still smells of fresh ink—portraits of the members smiling under the sun: Jun, Starlin, Raven, Mallow… and one final space left blank.
Jun, meanwhile, organizes a wooden tray of demo albums. Beside it sits a glass box filled with souvenirs: bracelets, badges, bookmarks—all finely designed and color-themed to the new release. Fresh, yet still unmistakably Rock.
After pinning up a few more banners and posters, Ririka plops down beside Mei, rubbing her forehead.
"Jun, why are all the posters just MV stills and album art? Where are the member shots?"
Jun doesn't answer immediately. She pulls a carefully rolled-up poster from beneath the table.
"This one's the last."
Her voice is quiet, as if only meant for herself.
Mei watches silently. Ririka crosses her arms and sighs.
Jun slowly peels off the protective layers and unrolls the final poster. The soft yellow light of the café hits the glossy surface, revealing a crystal-clear photograph.
She walks over and places it dead center on the largest wall—right where any customer would notice first. It's positioned slightly lower than usual, as if inviting passersby to pause.
It's a new group photo, taken not too long ago.
All the members of HiMR6 are present. But this time, standing in the center—not Jun as usual—but a man with longer gold hair and a soft, thoughtful smile.
No one says a word.
Ririka stands up, approaches slowly, eyes wide.
"…Hiroki's back."
Jun finally speaks, her voice calm, though her eyes shimmer faintly. "Just wait a little longer, girls. It won't be long now."
Mei looks away, quietly restacking the postcards.
And beneath her fingertips is their first complete group photo… in three long years.
.…
The little house is bathed in a soft golden glow, filled with the clear laughter of a child.
Yuna stretches out her arms and gently calls, "Come to Mommy, Hikari..."
Hikari, a tiny, bright-eyed toddler, is learning to walk. She staggers, falls, and stands back up again. Her small legs tremble, but her eyes hold a fierce determination—a pride only children carry in their very first steps. After a few more wobbly tries, she finally falls into Yuna's waiting arms.
They both laugh. A gentle kind of laughter, like a spring breeze after a storm. In that moment, the world feels so small—just a mother and her child, and the rush of life beating in Yuna's chest.
The door swings open. Hiroki steps in, holding an opened envelope. He doesn't speak. He simply stands there for a moment, watching the two of them, like a scene he's dreamed of for so long... yet fears to touch.
Yuna looks up. Her eyes soften at the heavy expression on his face.
"Look," she says, rubbing her cheek gently against Hikari's. "She walks to me all by herself."
Hiroki smiles faintly—a little stiff, but full of tenderness. He kneels and brushes his hand over Hikari's hair.
"She's adorable..."
"Right? She'll be off to preschool soon."
"Here," he says, placing his bag on his lap and pulling out a lollipop. He waves it in front of her, and her sparkly eyes track it with curiosity.
"A gift for you."
Yuna laughs. "Candy? Isn't she too young for that? Her teeth will rot."
"Will they now..."
The little girl reaches out eagerly, babbling as she tries to grab the lollipop.
"Say 'Mama'," Yuna coaxes.
"M-ma... mama..."
With her first word spoken, Hiroki hands her the lollipop. Her delighted squeal and excited claps melt Yuna's heart. She presses her nose into the crook of Hikari's neck, breathing in the faint scent of baby soap.
Whispering just for her daughter, she says, "Say 'Papa'..."
Hikari seems to understand. Her lips fumble, trying to form the sound. Eventually, she manages a single, clear, "Pa."
"That's my smart girl...!"
Hiroki stares blankly at the child in Yuna's arms, stunned. That's the first time he hears her say it. Warmth fills his chest, but so does something else—something distant and aching.
Yuna sees his reaction. She knows all along. Still holding the child, she speaks quietly, steadily.
"You got the results, don't you?"
He nods, reaches into his bag, and hands her a sheet of paper. She doesn't need to read far. One line stands out among the clinical data, cold and undeniable:
No biological relation.
Hikari... is not his daughter.
The child continues to smile, touching his leg with her tiny hand as if greeting him. He sits down and picks her up. In that moment, his eyes shimmer with quiet grief—the kind that lingers like an old wound that never fully heals.
Yuna sits silently, her gaze shifting between him and the baby. Her voice is eerily calm.
"So I'm right," she says, as if finally releasing what they both hold in.
Hiroki nods. His voice is hoarse.
"Yeah. But... it's one thing to expect it. It's another to see it confirmed. Have you told your parents?"
"I plan to. They'll come around, don't worry."
Hikari clings to his fingers, clueless and carefree. He leans forward and presses his forehead gently to hers.
"Either way... I've made up my mind. No matter what, I'm not going anywhere."
That night, the three of them share a quiet evening, savoring a moment that feels like home.
In the kitchen, the light glints off sharp, precise slices as Hiroki works. He stands with sleeves rolled up, golden hair tied neatly back, sweat dampening the strands around his forehead.
Red onions are arranged in perfect lines. Meat is sliced so evenly, it looks measured. The broth simmers gently, releasing the scent of kombu and bonito flakes into the air.
His hands can craft beautiful music. But they can also cook a perfect meal—because he cares. Cooking is second nature to Hiroki, a skill honed from growing up self-reliant. Flavor isn't just taste; it's meaning, memory, care.
He promises himself: he will become someone new. Someone who understands what responsibility means. Someone who knows what it means to be a father.
From the bathroom, the sound of splashing water and laughter echoes. Hiroki turns toward the door just in time to see Yuna stepping out with Hikari wrapped in a towel. They both smell fresh, tinged with the faint sweetness of baby soap.
Yuna gently places Hikari into her high chair and pads over to Hiroki. Her arms slip around his waist, and she rests her chin against his shoulder with ease. He doesn't turn, just smiles quietly as he continues stirring.
The pan sizzles. Vegetables turn vibrant in the heat.
"Smells so good," she murmurs by his ear, her breath warmer than the stove. "You might just steal my top chef title."
He gives her a sidelong glance. "But you like it, right? That way you'll always want to stay and eat with me."
"Really now? Need a hand with anything?" she teases, eyes gleaming.
"Not yet. But I wouldn't mind cooking for you forever," he says. Without hesitation, he sets the chopsticks aside and turns to hold her waist. Leaning in, he brushes his cheek along hers, his nose tracing down the curve of her neck.
"You smell amazing," he whispers, drawing in her scent. Yuna tilts her head, her lips parted ever so slightly. Their hands wander, finding familiar comfort.
But before the moment can deepen, the loud gurgle of oil and a sudden burst of baby cries snap them apart. Hiroki awkwardly turns back to the pan. Yuna rushes to Hikari, scooping her up and gently soothing the little one.
Dinner is served: soft, fluffy rice, sweet miso soup, tender braised pork, and a refreshing vegetable salad with sesame dressing.
Hikari, bib around her neck, clumsily holds a spoon, attempting to feed herself. Rice sticks to her cheeks and she occasionally flails the bowl as if in playful protest.
"Come on now, eat nicely," Yuna says, adjusting the food-stained bib.
Across the table, Hiroki props his chin on one hand, eyes fixed on the mother and child—the only thing reflected in his gaze.
"Kids this age usually need help, you know," he jokes. "She's gonna make a mess of that table."
"It's time she learns to hold the spoon herself. Look, she's doing great."
"Is that so? Some people still need spoon-feeding even as adults."
He smirks. Yuna gives him a playful glare. Moments like these are priceless—a memory gently written into the heart of their little home.
If only life has always been this gentle, like a calm stream flowing through a sweet valley. But what matters is now: the smiles, the warmth, the shared meal. The feeling of truly being a family.
That night, Hiroki practices in his tiny home studio. His electric guitar rings out, riffs played clean and powerful, muscle memory guiding every note.
A small shadow appears at the door. Shiny black hair peeks in.
"Daddy, I've been looking for you..."
Hiroki places the guitar across his knees and smiles. "Hikari?"
She runs inside, eyes wide, a finger pressed to her lips like she's holding a secret. "What are you doing?"
He doesn't answer right away. Instead, he picks her up and sits her in his lap. Then, gently, he places his fingers back on the strings and plays a short, sweet riff.
Hikari flinches slightly, then breaks into giggles. She claps excitedly, cheeks pink with joy.
"That was amazing! Play it again, Daddy!"
Her laughter still lingers in the air when the door bursts open.
"Hikari! Where are you—?"
Yuna rushes in, panic in her voice. She freezes upon seeing them together. Hiroki looks up and gives her a quiet nod.
She stands there for a moment, gaze drifting to his hand on the strings, to Hikari resting her head on his chest. A soft smile touches Yuna's lips.
"Alright, little one. Time for bed."
Upstairs in bed, Yuna turned on the nightlight, setting it to a warm golden hue. Hikari—now able to hum songs and smile like a little blooming flower—lay quietly on the bed, listening as her mother told a fairytale.
"Once upon a time, there was a princess who lived in a forest full of light, where everything could laugh..."
Her voice was soft, the rhythm of her words like gentle waves. Hikari listened, wide-eyed, one hand touching her mother's neck as if to find familiar warmth. Beside them, Hiroki sat quietly, elbow propped on a pillow, watching every expression on their faces as if trying to preserve this moment forever.
When the story reached its happy ending, Yuna smiled and placed a kiss on Hikari's forehead before lying down. Hiroki pulled the blanket up for both of them and settled beside them. Hikari lay in between, head on her mother's arm, feet resting on her father's stomach—tiny, sweet, and twitching occasionally like a lazy kitten.
In the dead of night, Hiroki carefully untangled himself from her little limbs and rose from bed without a sound.
He tiptoed to the door, but a small rustle behind him stopped him. Yuna furrowed her brow and exhaled sharply, still clinging to their daughter—her sleep disturbed by his absence.
No longer sneaking, Hiroki stepped back and knelt beside her. He brushed a loose strand of hair from her cheek and ran his fingers through her soft green hair before pressing a gentle kiss on her forehead, lips lingering with warmth.
Back in his room, he turned on his computer and only the desk lamp. The silence was thick, broken only by the click of the mouse and clack of keyboard keys. On the screen: SoundCloud.
He logged into his account under the name "Yuki." The familiar interface greeted him. He inhaled deeply—like preparing for a leap from a great height.
His heart pounded. After all these years... If he returned, would anything still be there? HIMrs6... The name still stung. Old riffs. Late-night rehearsals. Fights that turned into laughter...
Now it was all waiting for him—and yet, so empty.
He scrolled past the memories. His account, still public, had just over two thousand followers—a modest number. His self-written songs from three years ago remained, kept alive only by a passion he had long stopped nurturing. Only one private track sat untouched: "Wonder Woman," a ballad uploaded last year.
His hand hovered over the "Public" button.
Then scrolled down.
And with a cold click of the mouse, he deleted the entire profile. No warning. No hesitation.
Everything vanished.
Only the blank homepage remained—silent, still.
He sat there, unmoving.
The decision had already been made, long before tonight. Promises forged from heart and soul. It was time to pack his bags. It was time to return to what once was his second home...
HIMrs6.