The morning sun spilled through the corridor windows, drenching the polished marble floor in warm golden hues that seemed to dance with life. Dust motes swirled lazily in the beams of light, drifting like tiny spirits in the still air. The scent of freshly cut grass intertwined with the delicate fragrance of blooming flowers from the garden outside, wrapping the hallway in a serene embrace that whispered promises of a peaceful day.
Little Lisa moved lightly, her small feet barely making a sound against the cool, smooth floor. It felt as if the sunlight itself carried her forward, urging her toward the door at the end of the hall—the last one on the right.
Yatami's door.
Taking a deep breath, she paused for a fleeting moment, summoning her courage before raising her hand. Her knuckles brushed against the soundproof metal door, the knock barely more than a whisper against its sturdy frame. It felt like a gentle plea, an invitation into the world beyond.
Inside, Yatami stood before a towering bookshelf, his fingertips gliding over the spines of well-worn books, their covers soft and faded from years of loving use. Sunlight filtered through the half-drawn curtains, casting long shadows that danced across the wooden floor like echoes of forgotten tales. The room smelled of ink and old parchment, a quiet sanctuary untouched by the outside world's chaos.
Yatami's silhouette filled the doorway, illuminated by the amber glow of the morning sun. His deep blue eyes, soft yet piercing, shimmered like twin gemstones kissed by daylight, reflecting unspoken thoughts and dreams within their glossy depths. The slightly downturned shape of his eyes lent him an air of calm contemplation, exuding a serene presence that felt timeless and infinite. It was the kind of comfort that wrapped around Lisa like a warm blanket on a cold night.
She felt an invisible tether pulling her closer, as his steady gaze and soft smile promised safety—the assurance that she belonged here, always.
"You never change, Lily," he murmured, his voice a quiet melody of teasing affection, laced with that unmistakable familiarity that only she elicited.
Lisa tilted her head, a frown tugging at her lips as uncertainty flickered in her chest. "I thought you weren't in," she admitted, a hint of worry lacing her tone.
"Would you rather I be gone?" he mused, arching an eyebrow in playful challenge.
She rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress the smile creeping onto her face, the warmth of his presence dissolving her doubts. "May I come in?"
Yatami stepped aside, the door swinging open wider to welcome her into the sanctuary. "Always."
Lisa stepped inside, her gaze sweeping across the familiar space. The room was just as she remembered—lined with shelves filled with books, their spines forming a colorful mosaic of stories and adventures waiting to be told. Scattered trinkets from past escapades adorned the wooden surfaces, each one holding a memory of laughter and discovery. The soft morning light painted golden streaks across the floor, creating a pathway of warmth that led her deeper into this cherished haven. The air was thick with the scent of ink, aged paper, and the faintest trace of lavender, a fragrance that was distinctly Yatami's—a scent she found grounding and comforting.
She perched on the edge of his bed, observing him as he settled into the well-worn sofa across from her, adjusting a small stack of books beside him with a casual grace that spoke of years of routine.
"I hope I'm not interrupting," she said, glancing at the book he had just placed down, curiosity igniting in her gaze.
"Not at all." He lifted it briefly before setting it aside. "I was just about to start this one."
Lisa's interest piqued as she eyed the cover. "What's it about?"
Yatami's lips quivered into a smile, his dark eyes lighting up as they always did when he spoke of literature. "It's called The Love of a Mother, about a mother who is devastated by the disappearance of one of her twins. Every day, she holds onto the hope that they will be reunited one day. It's heart-wrenching yet beautifully poignant." He paused, a flicker of excitement in his voice. "Sounds intriguing, doesn't it?"
Lisa nodded, but something in her expression shifted, a shadow flitting across her features. The smile faded, her fingers absentmindedly tracing invisible patterns on the soft fabric of the bedsheet, a storm of thoughts brewing beneath the surface.
Yatami's gaze sharpened, his observant nature never missing a shift in her demeanor. He closed the book without hesitation, setting it aside as he leaned forward slightly, his focus entirely on her.
"What's on your mind, Lily?" he asked, his voice quieter now, careful and probing. "You don't usually sound like this unless something's bothering you."
She hesitated, her fingers tightening against the fabric beneath them as if seeking solace in its familiarity. With a deep breath, she finally spoke, her voice wavering like a delicate leaf caught in the wind.
"This morning…" Lisa's words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken confessions. "I faked being sick to skip school again."
Yatami didn't react immediately. He simply waited, allowing the silence to settle around them like a safety net, a protective cocoon enveloping her.
Lisa dropped her gaze, her next words barely more than a whisper.
"Mom wasn't happy about it. But…" She swallowed hard, her chest tightening. "It's not my fault everything feels like this."
The room seemed to hold its breath, as if the very walls understood the weight of her confession. The sunlight filtering through the window dimmed behind drifting clouds, casting softer, muted hues across the room.
Yatami studied her carefully, his sharp eyes peeling back the layers she tried so hard to keep hidden. He didn't push, didn't rush. He simply existed beside her, his presence like an anchor against the storm raging inside her.
His voice, when it came, was gentle but unyielding. "Tell me, Lily. What does it feel like?"
And just like that, the carefully constructed walls around her heart began to crack.
Lisa's fingers curled into the bedsheet, her knuckles turning white. One word slipped from her lips, barely more than a breath.
"Suffocating."
The silence between them thickened, stretching long and heavy, pressing down on them like an unseen force.
"I feel trapped, Ali." Her voice trembled, frustration and something deeper—something raw—bleeding into her words. "Every day, it's the same thing. Shina and her group… They make my life miserable. They're always there, waiting for me to slip up, finding new ways to corner me. It's like I can't breathe." She exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair, her nails grazing her scalp as if trying to claw out the thoughts swarming in her mind. "I just want to leave. Maybe study somewhere else, far away. Another country, even."
She let out a bitter laugh, though there was no humor in it. "I just… I don't want to be here anymore."
Yatami let out a slow breath, rubbing the back of his neck. He didn't speak right away. Instead, he let the silence settle between them, giving her space, giving her time.
"Lily…" He met her gaze, his deep blue eyes holding something steady, something unshakable. "I get it. Really, I do. But running away just because of them? That's not the answer."
Lisa's jaw tightened. "Then what is?"
"You're stronger than you think," he said simply, his voice quiet but unwavering. "And you don't need to go somewhere far away to start over. You can stand your ground right here."
Lisa looked away, her fingers twisting in the fabric of her dress. "Easier said than done."
Yatami sighed, then reached out, ruffling her hair in that familiar, comforting way of his. It was a silent promise, a reminder that she wasn't alone.
"You don't have to figure it all out right now," he said softly. "But don't let them push you into a corner. Rise like the sun, Lily—strong, bright, unstoppable." His lips quivered into a small, knowing smile. "No matter what happens, I'll always be here."
Something about his words struck deep, unraveling something tangled inside her. Lisa's throat tightened, emotion swelling in her chest, raw and unspoken. She stared at him, unable to put into words what she felt. Instead, she acted on instinct—she leaned forward, wrapping her arms around him.
Yatami stiffened for a fraction of a second, caught off guard, but then his arms came around her, steady and sure. His warmth, his quiet presence, was like a shield against everything weighing her down.
"What would I do without you, Ali?" she whispered, her voice muffled against his shoulder.
Yatami chuckled softly, resting his chin lightly atop her head. "You're my little sis. I'll do anything to make you happy."
Lisa smiled against his shoulder, the tension in her chest easing just a little. "I'm lucky to have you as a big brother," she murmured. "I wouldn't wish for anything else."