The quiet hum of the Nakamura estate at night was something Haruki had grown used to—something he had learned to live with. The soft murmur of distant conversations, the faint shuffle of house staff moving through the halls, and the occasional creak of the old wooden floors.
Lying on his bed, he stared at the ceiling, arms folded behind his head, his mind running in circles.
His conversation with his father lingered in his thoughts like an unwelcome shadow.
"Attachments make people weak, Haruki."
He let out a slow exhale, feeling the weight of those words settle deep in his chest.
Was he weak?
His father certainly seemed to think so. Riku, too. In their eyes, he wasn’t fit to stand among them—he wasn’t ruthless enough, wasn’t obedient enough.
But was that really a bad thing?
Haruki turned his head slightly, his gaze drifting toward his phone on the nightstand. He’d been ignoring it all evening, unwilling to deal with whatever messages might be waiting for him.
After a long moment of hesitation, he reached for it. The screen lit up, and sure enough, there were unread messages.
One from Eiji. A casual message, asking if he was free this weekend.
Another from Aoi.
Haruki’s grip on the phone tightened slightly as he clicked on her message.
Aoi: Did you make it home okay?
Haruki stared at the text for a few seconds before exhaling through his nose. He wasn’t sure why, but reading those simple words made something tighten in his chest.
She had no reason to check in on him. No obligation to care.
And yet, she did.
He typed out a quick response.
Haruki: Yeah. I’m fine.
A response came almost immediately.
Aoi: Liar.
Haruki smirked faintly despite himself.
Haruki: Shouldn’t you be asleep?
Aoi: Shouldn’t you?
He hesitated, then typed, Can’t sleep.
There was a pause, then her reply came.
Aoi: Want to talk about it?
Haruki stared at the screen.
Did he?
Part of him wanted to tell her everything. To explain how suffocating it was to live under his father’s expectations, how exhausting it was to constantly prove that he wasn’t a failure, how much he hated that Riku always seemed to be one step ahead of him.
But what good would that do?
Would anything really change?
After a moment, he typed, Not really.
Aoi didn’t reply right away.
Then, finally—
Aoi: Okay. Then I’ll just stay up, too.
Haruki blinked, caught off guard by the simplicity of her response.
Haruki: That’s unnecessary.
Aoi: So is pretending you’re okay.
A small chuckle escaped him, surprising even himself.
She really didn’t give up, did she?
Haruki sighed, shaking his head as he set his phone down beside him. He didn’t text her again, but somehow, knowing she was still awake on the other side of the screen made the silence of his room feel a little less oppressive.
The quiet didn’t last.
A soft knock at his door made Haruki tense. He glanced at the clock—11:42 PM.
No one should be coming to his room this late.
He sat up, muscles tight with unease. “Yeah?”
The door opened, and Hideo stepped inside.
Haruki exhaled, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. Hideo was one of the few people in this house he didn’t mind seeing.
Dressed in his usual dark suit, the older man gave him a measured look before closing the door behind him. “You’re still awake.”
Haruki leaned back against the headboard, crossing his arms. “Apparently.”
Hideo studied him for a moment before speaking. “Your father isn’t happy with you.”
Haruki let out a humorless laugh. “That’s hardly news.”
Hideo didn’t smile. “This time, it’s different.”
Haruki frowned. “How so?”
Hideo sighed, stepping further into the room. “He’s running out of patience.”
Haruki frowned, sitting up a little straighter. “Running out of patience?”
Hideo nodded, his expression unreadable. “He expected more from you by now.”
A quiet tension settled over the room. Haruki already knew his father was disappointed in him—he had made that much clear earlier—but there was something about the way Hideo was speaking that made Haruki’s chest tighten.
“What does that mean?” Haruki asked, his voice low.
Hideo hesitated for a brief moment before answering. “It means he’s considering giving up on you entirely.”
A cold weight settled in Haruki’s stomach.
Give up?
Haruki let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair. “And what does that look like? Cutting me off? Pretending I don’t exist?” He scoffed. “That doesn’t sound like him.”
Hideo’s expression darkened slightly. “No. It doesn’t.”
The weight in Haruki’s chest deepened.
If his father wasn’t going to just cut him off, then there was only one other option.
He would replace him.
“Riku,” Haruki murmured, his fists clenching.
Hideo nodded. “If your father loses faith in you completely, Riku will become his undisputed heir.”
Haruki forced his expression to remain neutral, but inside, he was seething.
Riku had always wanted this. He had spent his entire life proving that he was more worthy of their father’s trust than Haruki. And now, after years of staying out of the family’s affairs, Haruki was being told that if he didn’t start playing along, he would be discarded like a broken chess piece.
Hideo watched him carefully. “What are you going to do?”
Haruki let out a slow breath, trying to suppress the frustration bubbling inside him. “What does my father want me to do?”
Hideo was silent for a moment before answering. “He wants proof that you belong here.”
Haruki narrowed his eyes. “Proof?”
Hideo met his gaze evenly. “An assignment. Something to show your loyalty.”
A chill ran down Haruki’s spine. He knew what that meant.
“What kind of assignment?”
Hideo’s lips pressed into a thin line. “He hasn’t decided yet. But whatever it is, you won’t be able to ignore it.”
Haruki’s fingers curled into fists.
So this was it.
His father was giving him one last chance to prove that he was worthy of the Nakamura name. If he refused, he knew what would happen—he would be cast aside, and Riku would take everything.
But if he accepted…
He would have to step further into the world he had spent his whole life trying to escape.
A long silence stretched between them before Haruki finally spoke.
“When will I know?”
Hideo exhaled slowly. “Soon.”
Haruki nodded, his mind already racing.
Hideo studied him for a moment longer, then placed something on the nightstand beside him—a small, folded piece of paper.
“What’s this?” Haruki asked.
“A contact,” Hideo said. “Someone you might need, depending on what your father decides.”
Haruki stared at the paper for a long moment before picking it up. The name and number were handwritten, unfamiliar but precise.
“I know you don’t want this,” Hideo said, his voice quieter now. “But if you hesitate, even for a moment, Riku will take everything from you.”
Haruki clenched his jaw. “I know.”
Hideo sighed, then turned toward the door. “Get some sleep,” he said. “You’ll need it.”
With that, he left, the door clicking softly shut behind him.
Haruki sat there for a long time, staring down at the paper in his hands.
For the first time in years, he felt truly trapped.
And there was no way out.