The school gates loomed ahead, marking the boundary between Akihabara Academy and the city beyond. The golden light of the setting sun stretched their shadows long across the pavement, painting everything in soft hues of orange and pink. Haruki walked in silence, his bag slung over one shoulder, his mind still tangled in the conversation he’d just had with Aoi.
She walked beside him, matching his pace, neither too close nor too far. It was the kind of silence that wasn’t uncomfortable but wasn’t exactly easy either. The air between them was thick with everything that had been said—and everything that hadn’t.
Haruki stole a glance at her. She looked calm, her gaze forward, lips slightly pressed together as if deep in thought. He could tell she was still processing.
So am I.
Aoi had backed him into a corner, forcing him to acknowledge something he had spent years avoiding—that trying to shoulder everything alone wasn’t working. That maybe, just maybe, he needed someone who wouldn’t turn away, even when things got ugly.
But even if he had reluctantly let her in, it didn’t mean things would be easy.
Not when the weight of his family name still pressed down on him. Not when Riku was lurking in the background, waiting for him to fail.
“Haruki,” Aoi’s voice broke the silence, pulling him from his thoughts.
He glanced at her. “Yeah?”
Aoi hesitated for a second before speaking. “Earlier, when your brother showed up…” She paused, carefully choosing her words. “It didn’t seem like a normal sibling interaction.”
Haruki exhaled through his nose, his grip tightening slightly on the strap of his bag. “That’s because it wasn’t.”
Aoi didn’t respond right away. Instead, she waited, giving him space to decide whether or not he was going to elaborate.
Haruki sighed. “Riku isn’t just my older brother. He’s my father’s right-hand man. The one who actually wants to be part of the family business.”
Aoi’s brow furrowed. “So… he’s involved in the same things as your father?”
“That’s one way to put it,” Haruki muttered. “He’s everything my father wants in an heir—calculating, ruthless, completely loyal to the family. And then there’s me.”
Aoi tilted her head slightly. “And you’re… not?”
Haruki let out a dry laugh. “If I was, do you think I’d be here?”
Aoi stayed quiet, letting his words settle.
“For as long as I can remember, Riku’s been trying to prove that I’m not worth my father’s time. That I don’t belong in the family,” Haruki continued, his tone bitter. “And to be honest? He’s not wrong.”
Aoi frowned. “That doesn’t seem like something an older brother should say.”
“That’s because we’re not really brothers,” Haruki said, his voice flat. “Not in the way normal families are. In the Nakamura household, blood doesn’t make you family. Loyalty does.”
Aoi’s fingers curled slightly at her sides. “That’s messed up.”
Haruki snorted. “Welcome to my life.”
They walked a few more steps before Aoi spoke again, her voice quieter this time. “Do you hate him?”
Haruki hesitated.
Hate. It was a strong word. One he’d thrown around recklessly when he was younger, when Riku’s taunts and condescending smirks had felt unbearable.
But now?
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Sometimes I think I do. But other times… I think I just hate what he represents. What he expects me to be.”
Aoi nodded slowly, as if she understood. “And what about your father?”
Haruki’s shoulders tensed involuntarily. “That’s… complicated.”
Aoi gave him a sideways glance. “More complicated than Riku?”
Haruki let out a dry chuckle. “Oh, much more.”
Aoi didn’t press further, but the look in her eyes told him she wasn’t letting the subject go for good.
They reached the intersection near the station, where their usual paths diverged. Aoi’s apartment was a few blocks to the left, while Haruki’s way home led straight ahead.
Aoi slowed her steps slightly but didn’t stop walking. “You’re not going straight home, are you?”
Haruki smirked faintly. “That obvious?”
“You look like you’re trying to avoid it,” Aoi said, crossing her arms.
Haruki sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not that I’m avoiding it. I just… don’t feel like dealing with my father or Riku right now.”
Aoi considered that for a moment before nodding. “Then don’t.”
Haruki raised an eyebrow. “What, and just wander around until they come looking for me?”
“Or,” Aoi said, a small smirk tugging at her lips, “you could do something normal for once.”
Haruki frowned. “Define ‘normal.’”
Aoi rolled her eyes. “I don’t know—go to a café, walk around the city, literally anything that doesn’t involve your family breathing down your neck.”
Haruki scoffed. “You’re saying that like I have time for that kind of thing.”
Aoi raised an eyebrow. “You have time right now.”
Haruki opened his mouth to argue but hesitated. She wasn’t wrong.
The idea of wandering around without a purpose felt foreign to him—he was so used to constantly being aware of where he needed to be, of what was expected of him. But right now, standing at this intersection, there were no orders, no threats, no expectations.
Just a choice.
Aoi tilted her head. “Well?”
Haruki sighed. “Fine. But if I’m going to do this, I’m at least getting something to eat first.”
Aoi smiled, her eyes glinting with something close to amusement. “Now that’s a reasonable decision.”
They ended up at a small café tucked between two buildings, the kind of place that was easy to miss if you weren’t paying attention. The inside was warm, filled with the scent of freshly brewed coffee and pastries.
Aoi ordered a matcha latte, while Haruki opted for a black coffee—partly because he needed the caffeine, and partly because he refused to admit that he had no idea what half the other drinks on the menu were.
They took a seat by the window, the soft hum of the café surrounding them. Haruki stared down at his cup, his fingers drumming lightly against the side.
“So,” Aoi said after a few moments. “Do you do this often?”
“What, sit in cafés and drink overpriced coffee?” Haruki smirked. “Not really.”
Aoi rolled her eyes. “I meant take a break.”
Haruki hesitated. “Not really,” he admitted.
Aoi nodded as if she expected that answer. “Maybe you should.”
Haruki huffed. “You’re awfully persistent, you know that?”
“I’ve been told.” Aoi took a sip of her latte, her expression thoughtful. “But I think you need someone to be.”
Haruki didn’t respond right away. Instead, he looked out the window, watching as the city moved on without him. For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t rushing to keep up.
And for the first time, he wondered if maybe—just maybe—that was okay.