13th April 2026
It was the second day after the fight with Gen Takahashi.
While coming back home, Kentarou's mother, Sayaka, was angry. She started scolding him.
"What were you thinking, Kentarou?" Sayaka snapped, gripping the steering wheel tightly. "Getting into a fight with Gen Takahashi of all people?"
Kentarou stared out of the car window. The streets passed by in a blur of gray buildings and spring sunlight.
"I didn't start it," he muttered.
"You didn't start it?" Sayaka repeated, her voice rising. "Then why did you come home with a bruised cheek and a torn uniform?"
"He was bothering someone."
"And that gives you the right to throw punches?"
Kentarou clenched his fists on his lap.
"He wouldn't stop."
Sayaka glanced at him through the rearview mirror. Her expression was a mixture of anger and worry.
"You could have called a teacher. You could have walked away."
"He would've hurt them."
For a moment, the car fell silent.
His father, Kyoutarou, was there too, sitting in the passenger seat. He had been quiet the entire time, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.
Sayaka sighed heavily.
"You always do this," she said. "You act without thinking, and then everyone else has to deal with the consequences."
Kentarou lowered his gaze.
"I said I'm sorry."
"Sorry doesn't erase what happened."
"I know."
"Do you?" Sayaka asked. "Gen's parents called the school. The principal called us. Do you understand how serious this is?"
Kentarou looked toward his father.
"Dad…"
Kyoutarou did not answer immediately.
Sayaka frowned. "Don't look at your father for help. He's been silent because even he doesn't know what to say."
Kyoutarou finally spoke.
"Sayaka."
"What?"
"Let him breathe."
"He needs to understand."
"He does," Kyoutarou said calmly.
Kentarou blinked and looked at him.
His father turned slightly, meeting his eyes for the first time.
"Do you understand, Kentarou?"
Kentarou hesitated.
"I understand that I caused trouble."
"That's not what I asked."
Kentarou looked down again.
"I understand that I should've handled it differently."
Kyoutarou nodded once.
"Good."
Sayaka's hands tightened around the steering wheel.
"You're being too easy on him."
"I'm not," Kyoutarou replied. "But shouting won't change what happened."
"Then what will?"
"Making sure he doesn't repeat it."
Kentarou swallowed.
"I won't."
Sayaka let out a tired breath.
"You'd better not."
The rest of the drive passed in silence.
Kentarou remained silent as she continued scolding him.
His father, Kyoutarou, was there too, but he didn't say anything.
He was silent...
---
Kentarou hadn't left his room since that morning. He sat rigidly in his chair, staring at the floor while Rockey called to him from his cage.
The cheerful chirps scraped against him. He pushed his chair back and glanced at Rockey's food plate. Empty. With a sigh, he stood, filled it, and returned to sit on the edge of his bed.
Rockey hopped over and began eating, chirping happily between bites. Kentarou watched him, but the sight did little to ease the tightness in his chest. He lowered his gaze and pulled his knees closer.
A knock sounded at the door.
Kentarou's shoulders tensed. He stayed perfectly still, holding his breath as if silence might make whoever was outside go away.
"Kentarou, open the door. It's me, your father."
His father's voice seeped through the door. Kentarou clenched his hands in the blanket and stared at the handle, unable to reach for it.
Kentarou's father, Kyoutarou, stood silently outside his room, his hand hovering near the door. He had heard the muffled sounds from inside—the uneven breathing, the occasional sniffle—and his heart tightened at the thought of his son suffering alone.
"Kentarou?" he called softly. "May I come in?"
There was no answer.
Kyoutarou waited a moment before knocking gently. "Kentarou, it's me."
A long silence followed. Then the door slowly opened.
Kentarou stood there with his head lowered, his eyes red and tired. He stepped aside without saying a word, allowing his father to enter.
Kyoutarou walked in carrying a tray of food and placed it carefully on the table.
"You haven't eaten, have you?" he asked.
Kentarou shook his head.
"Come on. Eat a little. You'll feel worse if you stay hungry."
Kentarou sat down and picked up the chopsticks. He began eating quietly, but every bite seemed difficult to swallow. Kyoutarou watched him for a moment, unable to hide the concern in his eyes.
Finally, he spoke.
"Kentarou… don't let something like this crush you."
Kentarou's hand stopped halfway to his mouth.
Kyoutarou continued gently, "It's all right if she rejected you. I know it hurts, but you'll get through it."
Kentarou slowly looked up at him.
"Rejected me?"
"Yeah," Kyoutarou replied. "You liked her, didn't you? And she turned you down."
Kentarou's brows tightened. "No… she didn't."
Kyoutarou blinked. "She didn't?"
"No." Kentarou lowered his chopsticks. "That's not what happened."
"Then why are you so depressed?" Kyoutarou asked, his voice becoming softer. "You look like your whole world has fallen apart."
Kentarou stared down at the food in front of him. His fingers tightened around the chopsticks, and his lips trembled slightly.
"I…" he began, but the words caught in his throat.
Kyoutarou leaned closer. "You can tell me."
Kentarou swallowed hard and lowered his gaze even further.
"I didn't want to have a fight with Gen…"
His voice cracked. He quickly turned his face away, trying to hide the tears gathering in his eyes.
Kyoutarou's expression softened. "Gen?"
Kentarou nodded.
"He's like a brother to me…" he whispered. "I never wanted things to become like this between us."
His shoulders began to shake.
"I don't care about being rejected. I don't care if things don't work out with her. But Gen…" Kentarou clenched his fists. "I can't lose him too."
Kyoutarou reached over and gently placed a hand on his son's shoulder.
"Kentarou…"
"I should've stopped him," Kentarou said, his voice breaking. "I should've said something before everything got worse. But I was angry, and now he won't even look at me."
Kyoutarou squeezed his shoulder.
"Then tell him how you feel."
Kentarou looked at him, tears finally slipping down his cheeks.
"What if he doesn't forgive me?"
"Then you apologize again," Kyoutarou answered. "And again, if you have to."
Kentarou stared at him silently.
"People who are truly like family don't give up on each other after one fight," Kyoutarou continued. "But someone has to take the first step."
Kentarou wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.
"You really think he'll listen?"
"I don't know," Kyoutarou admitted. "But if you stay here and suffer in silence, you'll never find out."
Kentarou looked down at his untouched food, then slowly picked up his chopsticks again.
"I'm scared," he whispered.
Kyoutarou gave him a gentle smile.
"That's all right. Being scared doesn't mean you're weak. It means he matters to you."
Kentarou's eyes trembled, but this time, he nodded.
"He really does…"
"Then don't let your fear decide what happens next."
---
Kyoutarou looked at Kentarou for a moment, studying the quiet curiosity in his son's expression. The conversation had started with Violet, but somehow, it had drifted toward memories Kyoutarou had not thought about in years.
"If I wasn't her senior…" he began, then stopped.
Kentarou looked up at him.
"Wait. You're her senior?"
"Yeah," Kyoutarou replied with a small nod. "I was a year ahead of her."
"You never told me that."
"I never thought it was important."
Kentarou tilted his head. "But you knew her before she met Gen?"
"Of course I did. Gen and Violet are in the same grade now, but back then, Violet was still younger than me. It's just that she and Gen went to different schools, you know."
"Oh." Kentarou leaned back slightly. "So you knew her before Dad—before Gen?"
Kyoutarou gave him an amused look. "You can say his name, you know."
"I know. I just got confused."
"That happens."
Kentarou remained quiet for a moment, listening carefully. Then he asked, "What was she like back then?"
Kyoutarou's faint smile grew a little warmer.
"She was still stubborn," he said. "Still sharp-tongued. And she always acted like she didn't need anyone's help."
"That sounds like her."
"Exactly." Kyoutarou chuckled. "But she was different in some ways too. Everyone changes as they grow older."
Kentarou watched his father's expression. "You sound like you miss those days."
Kyoutarou looked away, his smile fading into something more distant.
"Man… it reminds me of my college life."
"Your college life?"
"Yeah."
"What happened?"
Kyoutarou rested his hands on his knees and let out a quiet breath. The memories had appeared so suddenly that he almost felt as if he were standing there again, surrounded by unfamiliar faces and the smell of freshly cleaned hallways.
"Nothing too special," he said.
Kentarou immediately shook his head. "That means something special happened."
Kyoutarou glanced at him. "You're getting better at reading people."
"I learned from you."
"Then I'm sorry."
Kentarou laughed softly. "So? Are you going to tell me or not?"
Kyoutarou smiled and leaned back.
"Fine. But don't expect some amazing heroic story. I was just a college student trying to figure out what I was doing with my life."
"That still sounds interesting."
"Maybe to you."
"It's your story. Of course it's interesting."
For a moment, Kyoutarou said nothing. Then he looked toward the window, his eyes reflecting the faint light outside.
"Back in 2004…"
---
2004 — Japan, Tokyo
"Man… first day in college. I'm excited."
A younger Kyoutarou stood in front of a room, looking around with curiosity. The hallway was crowded with unfamiliar students carrying bags, books, and boxes. Some were talking loudly with friends, while others stood alone, staring at their room numbers and trying to find their way.
Kyoutarou adjusted the strap of his bag and looked down at the piece of paper in his hand.
"Room 304… This should be it."
Before he could knock, the door opened.
"This is your room."
Kyoutarou turned toward the person speaking to him. The man was holding a clipboard and wearing a staff badge around his neck.
"Kyoutarou, that's my name."
The other person looked down at the clipboard, then back at him.
"Kyoutarou Izumi."
Kyoutarou nodded.
"That's right."
The staff member checked something off the list.
"First-year student?"
"Yeah."
"Then you're in the right place. This is the dormitory room assigned to you. You'll be sharing it with two other students."
Kyoutarou looked inside. Three beds stood on the sides of the room, with a small desk beside each one. One side was completely empty, while the other already had a few bags placed on it.
"Someone's already here?"
"He arrived earlier this morning," the staff member explained. "He went out to buy some supplies."
"Oh."
Kyoutarou stepped into the room and looked around.
"It's smaller than I expected."
The staff member laughed. "You'll get used to it."
"I hope so."
"You'll also find the dormitory rules posted near the entrance. Make sure you read them."
"Rules?"
"No loud music after ten, no fighting, no bringing strangers into the building, and absolutely no cooking in the rooms."
Kyoutarou blinked. "People actually cook in here?"
"People do all kinds of things when they think no one is watching."
"That's reassuring."
The staff member gave him a tired smile.
"Welcome to college, Izumi."
Kyoutarou nodded politely.
"Thank you."
The man left, and the door slowly closed behind him. For the first time since arriving, Kyoutarou was alone.
He placed his bag on the empty bed and looked around the room again.
"So this is it…"
He walked over to the window and looked down at the campus. Students moved between the buildings, laughing and calling out to one another. Everything felt unfamiliar, but there was something exciting about it too.
A new place. A new life. No one knew him here.
Kyoutarou smiled to himself.
"I'll remember that."