--Time: 7:35PM--
A soft knock echoed against my door.
"Haruto," my mother's voice came, quiet but steady. "Your father's home. Dinner's ready. Come down, okay?"
I sat up slowly, rubbing at my swollen eyes. My voice cracked. "I'm coming."
The lock clicked open, and I dragged myself to the washroom. Cold water splashed across my face, stinging my skin. When I looked up into the mirror, he was there again my future self, blood-soaked and hollow-eyed.
This time, I didn't even flinch. I simply stared back. He didn't move. Didn't speak. Only lingered, like a shadow waiting for me to break again.
I turned away.
At the dining table, my father had already sat down, still in his work shirt, the weariness of the day carved into his face. My mother moved between us, serving dishes with a careful smile that looked forced.
We ate quietly at first. Chopsticks clinked against bowls, the only sound filling the heavy silence.
Then Father spoke.
"How's your health? Any dizziness today?"
"I'm fine," I said flatly, not lifting my eyes from my rice.
"That's good," he nodded, but his voice carried doubt.
A few more minutes of shallow conversation followed small things about school, about work, about nothing. I couldn't breathe under it. I set my chopsticks down and stood up.
"I'll go rest."
"Wait." My father's voice cut sharper than I expected.
I froze. Slowly turned. His gaze fixed on my face, steady but piercing.
"Your eyes," he said. "They're swollen. Did something happen?"
My throat tightened. The lie rolled out too easily.
"I must've pressed my hand against my face while sleeping. That's all."
His eyes narrowed, searching me, but I kept my expression blank. Finally, he exhaled, leaning back. "...Alright."
I left before either of them could press further.
The table fell silent after my footsteps faded upstairs.
My mother's hand trembled slightly as she lowered her chopsticks. She stared at Haruto's empty seat, her lips pressed thin.
"He's… not himself," she whispered. "Did you see? He doesn't even look at me anymore. No matter how much I try, he won't tell me anything." Her voice broke. "He's lived like that for so long… hiding everything. Always studying, always chasing scholarships so he wouldn't burden us. We were given such a good son… but he wasn't given good parents."
Her eyes glistened. She covered her mouth with her hand, fighting the tears.
His father reached across the table, resting a rough hand over hers. His voice was low, steady.
"Kaori. Don't blame yourself so much. He's strong. Too strong, maybe. He carries things alone because that's who he is."
"But he's breaking," she said, shaking her head. "I can feel it. He doesn't talk to me, doesn't smile anymore. What if one day he… what if one day he disappears from us completely?"
Her husband tightened his grip, his own voice heavy with guilt.
"Then we don't stop trying. Even if he pushes us away, even if he won't tell us… we stay here. Waiting. That's all we can do as parents now."
Kaori lowered her gaze, tears slipping silently down her cheeks.
--Scene shift: 9:10PM---
Across town, Souta sat in his room, legs bouncing with restless anger. His walls were plastered with sports posters, but his eyes weren't on them they were on a stack of photographs spread across his desk.
"Miyuki and Haruto…" he muttered, gripping one photo tightly.Souta's laughed.
"They're getting closer. If I don't separate them now, it'll be too late."
He picked a photo and slammed the photo down, frustration spilling into the air.
"These aren't enough. I need more. I need to find his weakness."
His eyes burned with determination the same hunger that had already poisoned his heart.
--Scene shift: 10:20PM---
Back in his room, Haruto curled on his bed, tears soaking into his pillow. His voice cracked in the quiet.
"I can't… I can't do anything anymore." His body shook with each sob. "I'm weak. Physically… emotionally… everything."
The memories stabbed at him, unrelenting, his own mind a battlefield. He clawed at his chest as though he could tear them out, but nothing changed.
Finally, exhaustion pulled him under. His sobs quieted into silence, leaving only the sound of his shallow breathing.
The night swallowed him whole.