Yoichi lay on his bed, arms crossed beneath his head, staring blankly at the ceiling of his room. The events of the dinner earlier that evening played over in his mind, each detail gnawing at his nerves. Aunt Tsusiko's actions had been terrifying. He had seen people die in movies before, but witnessing her casually point a gun at him while threatening his family—that was a new level of horror. Her words echoed in his ears like a haunting refrain:
"If you ever try to hurt me or my daughters, I will make you and your wretched family pay. Understood?"
The memory of her icy tone and the cold steel of the gun barrel aimed at him sent chills down his spine. He hadn't been able to answer her then. His eyes had remained fixed on the gun, his voice lost to the fear that gripped him. That silence had angered her. Her finger twitched on the trigger, and she might have pulled it had Kamiko not intervened.
Kamiko's voice rang out in his memory: "Leave him out of this, Mom!"
She had stepped in front of him, arms outstretched as if to shield him. Yoichi had been stunned. Kamiko—the one who seemed so aloof, almost hostile toward him—had defended him. It wasn't what he had expected from her at all. Aunt Tsusiko had stared at her daughter for a moment before sighing and lowering the gun. She placed it on the table and walked out, leaving the room in tense silence.
"So, my aunt can kill without remorse," Yoichi thought bitterly, the memory still vivid. A knock at the door interrupted his spiraling thoughts. His heart skipped a beat. Fear coursed through him, but he knew he couldn't ignore it. This wasn't his house, and refusing to answer wasn't an option.
He got up, hesitating for a moment before opening the door. Kamiko stood there, with Kameko clutching her arm tightly and peeking out from behind her.
"Let's go for a walk," Kamiko said simply.
"Right now?" Yoichi asked, incredulous.
"Yeah," Kameko replied, her voice soft but insistent.
Yoichi glanced at the two, uncertain, but finally nodded. "Okay." He locked the door behind him and followed them into the night.
"This isn't the kind of 'walk' I had envisioned at all," Yoichi thought as he trailed behind the twins along the pavement beside the garden. The air was cool and fragrant, carrying the faint scent of flowers. Guards were stationed at discreet intervals, their watchful eyes hidden among the trees and shrubbery. Yoichi couldn't help but feel like a prisoner under surveillance.
The twins walked ahead of him, their contrasting personalities evident even in their strides. Kamiko's steps were measured and confident, while Kameko clung to her sister's arm, glancing nervously around.
"When are you going to let go? My arm's getting sore," Kamiko said, her tone tinged with annoyance.
"When my paranoia subsides," Kameko replied sheepishly.
"Why don't you go cling to Yoichi instead?" Kamiko suggested dryly.
Kameko shook her head. "He's just as paranoid as I am."
"And you think I'm not?" Kamiko shot back.
"Well… considering your composure and the fact that you're going to be like Mom someday… yeah, I don't think you're paranoid at all," Kameko said, her voice trailing off.
Kamiko sighed. "You know what? Never mind."
The banter brought a faint smile to Yoichi's lips despite the tension in his chest. It was a small moment of normalcy, however fleeting. They continued walking until they reached a bench near an artificial pond. The twins sat down while Yoichi lingered by the water, staring at his reflection.
The surface of the pond mirrored his face, but the eyes that stared back at him seemed unfamiliar. He looked haunted, worn down by everything he had been through since arriving at his aunt's mansion. The hollow feeling in his chest deepened as he thought about the twins. Their presence reminded him of something he had lost—a part of himself he couldn't quite name.
"You know you can't remain like this forever, Yoichi," Kameko said, her voice gentle but firm. She had moved to stand beside him, her reflection joining his in the water. Her words struck a chord, and he felt a pang of sadness. He knew what she meant. He couldn't keep running from his emotions, couldn't let himself spiral into the void he had once fought so hard to escape.
"It's late. I'm going to bed. Goodnight," he said abruptly, turning and walking away before she could say more.
Back in his room, Yoichi shut the door behind him and slid to the floor, leaning against it with his knees drawn to his chest. He buried his face in his arms, trying to block out the world. His head throbbed as if his thoughts were waging a war inside his mind. He could feel himself slipping, losing the fragile grip he had on his emotions and his sense of self.
"I can't go back," he thought desperately. "Not after everything."
Following his therapist's advice, he tried to calm his racing thoughts by focusing on memories. Random images flickered through his mind, but two remained steady. The first was of Mika, his younger sister. He had once resented her, but over time, she had become one of the most important people in his life. The second image was of a pair of blue eyes—innocent, vulnerable, and captivating. They seemed to draw him in, grounding him in a way he couldn't fully understand.
"I can't lose myself," he resolved. "Not now."
Slowly, he got to his feet and crossed the room to the window. He pushed it open, letting the cool night air wash over him. The city stretched out below, its lights twinkling like stars. He rested his hands on the windowsill, letting the breeze ease the tension in his chest.
"I've got just a day before starting at Yamabuki Elite High School," he thought. "I'll need to gather as much information as I can before then."
His thoughts drifted to Akane. Back in that alley, he hadn't expected her to be who she was. The connection felt too coincidental, too surreal.
"Fate has a strange way of playing with people's lives," he mused.
Exhaustion finally overtook him, and he returned to his bed. He lay down, staring at the ceiling until sleep claimed him.