Shinji wandered through the grand hallway of the mansion, his footsteps nearly silent on the polished marble floor. The towering walls, adorned with intricate art pieces, made him feel small, almost insignificant in this place that was not his own. The air was cool, with the faint scent of roses wafting from a nearby vase. As he moved toward his room, he caught sight of Shinichi, Aiko's brother, loitering at the other end of the hall. Shinji hesitated for a moment, but then, determined to make an effort, he approached him.
"Hey, Shinichi," Shinji said with a hopeful smile, extending his hand for a handshake.
Shinichi barely lifted his head from his phone. His gaze was cold, sharp, and filled with disdain. Without warning, he swatted Shinji's hand away as if it were an annoying insect. "I have no interest in talking to a groper," Shinichi spat, his voice dripping with disgust.
Shinji froze, confused and stung by the harsh accusation. "What?" he muttered, genuinely baffled as to where the insult came from. His chest tightened, but he swallowed his pride. He had no idea why Shinichi would call him that, and part of him wanted to defend himself, but he knew better. Responding would only stir more trouble. Keeping his composure, he nodded slightly, as if accepting defeat, and continued toward his room, leaving Shinichi to his sneering silence.
Once inside his room, the door clicked shut, and Shinji exhaled. He leaned against the wall for a moment, the tension easing from his shoulders. But even in the privacy of his room, he couldn't shake the feeling of being a complete outsider in this house. His gaze drifted to the luxurious furniture—the silk curtains, the velvet armchair by the window, the glint of gold trimming on the bed frame. This wasn't his world, and every interaction with Aiko's family reminded him of that.
Later that evening, Aiko came home from work. She entered the room with a weary smile, her usual energy dimmed by the long hours she'd spent at the office. Shinji was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at his hands, deep in thought. She joined him, sitting beside him quietly for a moment before breaking the silence.
"So," Aiko began softly, "how was your day?"
Shinji looked at her, his face betraying his exhaustion. "It was… okay it had its ups and downs," he admitted, his voice low. "Your brother—he said something weird. Called me a groper. I have no idea why." He paused, shaking his head slightly. "But it's fine.
Aiko frowned, her eyes filling with sympathy. She reached out and touched his arm. "I'm sorry, Shinji. They've been awful to you. This house, it's not what it looks like on the outside. It's just… broken."
Shinji looked into her eyes and saw the pain she carried—pain she had been trying to hide. "It's not just me though, is it?" he asked gently.
Aiko shook her head, her lips trembling as she spoke. "No, it's not. I feel like a bird in a cage. My whole life, I've never had a say in anything. I've always been told what to do, who to be… even who to marry." Her voice broke, and she began to sob quietly, the weight of her emotions too much to bear any longer.
Without hesitation, Shinji reached out and pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her as her tears soaked into his shirt. "It's going to be okay," he whispered, his voice steady despite the chaos around them. "You're not alone anymore. I'm here now."
They stayed like that for a while, hugging each other. They didn't say anything to each other but could understand what the other person was feeling.
The moment was interrupted by a knock on the door. It was time for dinner, and in Aiko's family, no one missed dinner. The clock struck 7 pm, and it was a rule that all family members would gather at the dining table by then.
Shinji and Aiko walked downstairs together, hand in hand. As they entered the grand dining room, Shinji noticed how the long mahogany table was already set, with polished silverware and gleaming plates laid out for everyone. Aiko took her seat, but there was no chair for Shinji.
Awkwardly, Shinji cleared his throat and, in a calm, polite tone, asked, "Excuse me, where should I sit?"
Aiko's mother, seated at the head of the table, shot him a cold, dismissive glare. "There's no place for you in this house," she snapped, her words as sharp as daggers.
Shinichi, sitting across the table, snickered, his eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. "Yeah, sucker," he taunted, barely able to contain his laughter.
Akari, Aiko's sister, chimed in, her voice dripping with mockery. "Your place is on the floor, you pathetic loser," she said, her eyes glancing at Shinji with contempt.
Shinji's heart sank. He felt the sting of humiliation deep in his chest, but he bit his tongue, refusing to let them see how much their words hurt. He glanced at Aiko, hoping for some support, but she was already standing, her face set with determination.
"I won't sit here if Shinji isn't allowed," Aiko declared, grabbing her plate and walking toward the stairs. "We'll eat upstairs."
Shinji, touched by her gesture, followed suit, carrying his own plate as they ascended the grand staircase together. They walked hand in hand, both wearing small smiles, trying to ignore the venomous looks from Aiko's family. Her mother's face twisted in disgust and envy, while Shinichi and Akari glared after them, their expressions unreadable.