The streets of Tokyo were still buzzing with life past eight in the evening.
Neon signs from every kind of shop flickered in the night, splashing the sidewalks with shifting colors. Office workers, arms slung around each other's shoulders, pushed aside the curtains of izakaya doors. From pachinko parlors, the sound of steel balls echoed endlessly, day and night.
Takanashi Touka, however, walked quietly through it all, her thoughts wrapped in their own shadowed world. She ignored the liveliness around her and followed the familiar path toward the park she often visited.
The park was different—apart from the occasional car passing by on the nearby road and the distant cries of nocturnal birds, there were no other sounds to disturb the quiet.
For Touka, this was the one place she could let her mood unwind.
She lowered her head as she walked in, guided only by the faint glow of the streetlamps, her eyes following the faint footprints left on the stone path. Even when the sound of footsteps drew closer behind her, she didn't turn. She let them come.
"It's late at night, you know. You really shouldn't be wandering into places like this. What if you ran into someone bad?"
That voice. That tone. Familiar, both.
Touka kept walking at her steady pace, her hands folded behind her back. A faint smile touched her lips. Strange, wasn't it? The moment she left the house, she'd wondered if he would follow her.
And now that her hunch was right, for some reason her mood suddenly felt lighter. Even though all of Rikka's attempts earlier to cheer her up had failed completely.
"If you weren't back there watching me, I wouldn't have come this far in the first place."
Takanashi Touka smiled as she said it, then stopped walking any further into the park.
Minamoto Senya raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "You noticed?"
"How could I not?"
Touka sat down on a bench near the sandbox, the one where children played during the day. She patted the spot beside her as an invitation. Senya brushed aside a fallen leaf before taking the seat.
He opened his mouth to speak, but Touka, as if predicting him, tilted her head back toward the night sky. "Don't bother trying to comfort me. The more you do, the more it'll feel like I've failed."
That silenced him immediately.
Senya knew Touka's character well—calm, composed, resilient. Even if no one acknowledged her frustrations, she could spend time alone and, eventually, find a way to piece herself back together.
But that didn't mean he could just leave her like this.
Once, she'd had to bear everything on her own because Rikka was still a child and their mother Junko worked late. She'd grown accustomed to mending herself in solitude.
But things were different now. They were family—under the same roof, watching over each other. Letting her face her burdens in silence felt far too lonely.
"Relax. I'm not going to say anything useless. Just… since I'm your bodyguard for tonight, how about this? Once you're done stargazing, keep me company for a while. The competition's over, right? You must have plenty of free time now."
His voice was calm, steady, carrying a warmth that lingered beneath the winter moonlight.
She turned her head toward him, the thought crossing her mind before she could stop it: being around him like this, it was easy to forget just how handsome he really was.
Touka gave a small nod.
Later, Senya walked with her out of the park. While they waited at the crosswalk, he pulled out his phone. Curious, she glanced over. He was typing in "movies."
So that was it. He wanted to take her to see a film, to shake off her gloom.
So thoughtful for someone so young… No wonder Eriri and Utaha were always so drawn to him.
Touka muttered silently to herself, half amused, half embarrassed.
But instead of heading to a theater, Senya brought her somewhere else: a private cinema.
Both were technically places to watch movies, but the difference was obvious. A theater was a public space. A private cinema, on the other hand, meant privacy. Once the door closed, whatever happened inside stayed inside.
Touka, now in high school, had overheard enough gossip to know what that implied. Which classmates had sneaked off to hotels, who had done what, where. So when Senya stood at the counter arranging for a room, her cheeks heated.
Still, when they stepped inside, her nerves eased a little.
The room was decorated in soft pastel tones, almost cartoonish. A TV and DVD player stood ready. A long sofa stretched across one wall, and a hanging basket chair swayed gently from the ceiling. Most importantly, there was no bed.
She exhaled, then inwardly scolded herself for even imagining otherwise.
"At a normal theater, there's always someone whispering or walking past, and you can't choose exactly what you want to watch. That's why I picked here. In a bit, I'll call home to say we'll be back late. If you're hungry, we can order delivery. For tonight, just… don't think about anything. Relax."
Senya laid everything out so neatly that all she had to do was follow his lead.
Being cared for like this… it reminded her of that time, years ago, after their parents' accident. Outwardly she'd seemed composed, but inside she'd been restless, uncertain. And back then too, it was Senya who had stepped up—like a man of the house, taking the weight from her shoulders, even solving the family's money troubles through his own efforts.
That feeling, of having someone to lean on… it was hard to forget. And it was here again, now.
"You seem pretty familiar with this place. You must've brought Eriri or Utaha here before, right?" Touka asked, feigning casualness as she swayed gently in the basket chair. Her slipper slipped from her foot, revealing a clean white sock.
Senya was crouched by the TV, checking the DVD cabinet. "Nope. Never came here with them. This is my first time—with you."
First time…
Her toes curled slightly inside the sock.
Suddenly, Touka couldn't stand the silence of this closed space. She hopped out of the chair, crouched beside him, and quickly picked out a disc, eager for the distraction of sound.
"This one."
Senya glanced at it. A classic: Léon: The Professional, directed by Luc Besson. He'd seen it before, but if Touka wanted to watch, he didn't mind rewatching it.
They sat back on the sofa.
The private cinema's surround sound and crisp visuals made the experience immersive. Midway through, a staff member delivered juice and a fruit platter.
Gradually, Touka's earlier restlessness faded. She found herself smiling at the bond between the lonely little girl and the silent hitman.
But by the end, when the man sacrificed everything to save the girl, leaving her to live on alone—her smile vanished. She stared at the credits in silence.
Senya wasn't particularly moved—he wasn't the type to get swept away by films, and he already knew the ending. But Touka, with her sadness written so clearly across her face, looked unexpectedly adorable to him. Normally she never showed emotion so openly.
"How about we watch a comedy next?" Senya suggested, wanting to lighten the heavy mood.
But Touka glanced at the clock. It was already past eleven—far too late for a high schooler.
"Don't worry. I already called Mom and Dad. I told them we'd be back late. And it's Saturday tomorrow, so staying up a bit isn't a big deal."
She nodded reluctantly.
This time, Senya picked a movie himself—Kung Fu, one of his favorites. A comedy with a happy ending. Surely it would help.
Touka laughed here and there during the first half, but before long she grew quiet.
When Senya looked over, he found her fast asleep, head tilting to the side. Gently, he shifted, letting her rest against his shoulder. He turned down the volume, watching her breathe.
Her sleeping face was serene, lashes resting on her cheeks, lips curved faintly as if in a dream. A strand of hair fell across her face, and when he brushed it aside, she unconsciously nuzzled against his neck, the faint scent of her shampoo lingering in the air.
How could he wake her now?
Senya sighed softly, his gaze tender.
Touka, you've worked so hard. Rest well. Sweet dreams.
The next morning, Touka woke around six. She blinked, realizing she was still on the sofa in the private cinema. A warm coat covered her—his.
And as for her stepbrother… she had been using his lap as a pillow, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder to keep her from slipping.
Flustered, she sat up quickly. The movement stirred Senya awake. He rubbed his eyes. "You're up…?"
Her heart raced. "Why didn't you wake me last night?"
"You looked so peaceful. And you were exhausted. I thought you deserved the rest. Don't worry, I already told Mom and Dad. Do you want to lie down again, or head home?"
"Home, of course!"
On the way back, Senya yawned repeatedly. He'd barely slept himself, sitting uncomfortably to support her.
"If this happens again, don't overthink it. Just wake me," she said firmly.
"Got it," he answered with a small smile.
Back home, he wanted nothing more than a shower and a nap. Touka, meanwhile, leaned against her bedroom door after closing it behind her, pressing her hand to her chest. Her sister Rikka was sprawled across her bed in a messy sleep, completely at ease.
Only then did Touka exhale. Sitting down, she pulled the coat tighter around herself, the faint warmth and scent still clinging to her.
But what Senya had worried about eventually came true.
That "new type of flu" experts had once dismissed as little different from a seasonal cold began to spread across the globe. Even Japan, thought to be relatively safe, saw an increasing number of suspected cases.
A few professionals raised the alarm, urging society to take it seriously. But most people still waved it off as nothing more than a cold.
Senya couldn't change the world. He could only remind the people close to him to take precautions.
By mid-December, Yukinoshita Yukino returned from the UK for winter break.
Her mother, under the pretense of celebrating Yukino's gold medal from an international math competition, invited her friends over for dinner the very night she got back.
Eriri was, as always, the most excited—skipping words entirely and greeting Yukino with a big hug.
Touka had also been invited by Haruno, but the older sister immediately dragged her upstairs for "girl talk," meaning she wouldn't appear until dinner.
After exchanging greetings with everyone, Yukino's gaze finally landed on Minamoto Senya. Their eyes met, and they both shared a small smile.
Some bonds, born from childhood, needed no words.
"Oh, by the way, I brought back gifts for everyone this time."
..
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