"Rise and shine, kiddo!" Kenichi's cheerful yet challenging voice ripped through the stillness of the early morning, bouncing off the walls with an energy that felt too big for the room. The faint sunlight filtering through the curtains painted soft gold lines across the floor, not yet strong enough to banish the shadows entirely. Subaru, still clinging to the fog of sleep, blinked groggily—only to see his father's tall, broad figure looming like a giant over his bed.
Before he could react, Kenichi's powerful legs—swift and precise like a seasoned hunter—coiled around him, locking his son in a crushing leg hold. The sudden weight and pressure hit Subaru like a surprise wave.
"AGH! I just woke up... Timeout, timeout!" Subaru's voice was muffled, halfway between panic and irritation. The warmth of his pillow had been ripped from him, replaced by the suffocating squeeze on his chest and neck. His breath quickened as the playful but relentless force shattered the fragile peace between dreaming and waking.
Kenichi arched an eyebrow, smirking down at him. "Oh? Is that so—" But Subaru saw his chance. Summoning his sluggish morning strength, he twisted and slipped free from the leg trap. In a flash, he lunged forward, looping his arms around his father's neck in a firm headlock.
"Ha! How's that, old man? Taste your own medicine!" Subaru's voice was ragged but triumphant, convinced he had turned the tide.
Kenichi's laugh rumbled from his chest. "Excellent! That's my boy! But tell me—what's your next move?" With fluid precision born from years of experience, he seized Subaru's wrist, rolled him onto his back, and pinned him with a flawless counter. For the next five minutes, the room became a makeshift wrestling ring, their bodies shifting from one hold to another—Kenichi demonstrating an almost theatrical array of techniques while Subaru's breathing grew heavier and his muscles trembled under the strain.
"I yield! Stop before you break my bones, Dad!" Subaru gasped, his voice a mix of defeat and relief.
At the door, two quiet spectators had been watching: Naoko, elegantly holding a steaming cup of coffee, and twelve-year-old Hikari, her hair messy from sleep as she leaned drowsily against her mother's side. Naoko's lips curved in a small smile, though her eyes held a flicker of concern.
Placing a hand to her cheek, she shook her head. "Ara? Ken! Could you stop torturing our son? He's already surrendered."
Kenichi looked up instantly, his grin broadening at the sight of his wife. He released Subaru and stood with exaggerated flourish. "Ah! If my beautiful wife commands it, then it shall be so!" Striding over, he pressed a kiss to Naoko's cheek and another to Hikari's forehead. "Did my two lovely girls sleep well?"
Hikari reached out with tiny hands, stifling a yawn. "Mmh… Daddy, I'm still sleepy. I want to sleep with Onii-chan."
Subaru, still rubbing the soreness from his arms, chuckled faintly. "Ugh… That hurt more than I expected. But… it's kind of nostalgic," he muttered. In the shadowy corner, an unseen figure—Flugel—hovered like a ghost. His eyes rested on Subaru's family, the warmth in the scene stirring an ache for days long gone.
Hikari toddled toward Subaru, wrapping her small arms around his leg. "Onii-chan… carry me."
Subaru didn't hesitate. "Alright, alright… Come here, you." He lifted her easily, her head finding its place on his shoulder as her breathing slowed. The gentle weight of his sister and the quiet trust in her touch sent a wave of warmth through him.
From the doorway, Naoko spoke softly, almost to herself. "Honey… Aren't they precious?"
Kenichi puffed his chest out with exaggerated pride. "Of course! We made them, didn't we? Hahaha!"
Subaru shot him a sharp look. "Dad… Don't say things like that in front of Hikari. If she gets the wrong idea, it's on you."
Still grinning, Kenichi sauntered closer. "What, and you think she's better off learning from you? I'm stronger, smarter, and better-looking!"
Subaru narrowed his eyes, his voice firm. "As her big brother, I'll teach her everything she needs to know. And for the record—" he smirked, "—I'm handsome too."
Kenichi pressed a finger lightly to Subaru's forehead, leaning in with mock seriousness. "I don't think so. You just look like a bad guy! Look at you… that villain face, and those eyes—absolutely suspicious."
"Tch. I'm proud of that, okay? It reminds me of my mom." Subaru's voice carried not only stubborn pride but also a trace of bittersweet nostalgia, as if the memory itself was a fragile treasure. In his eyes flickered the light of mornings long past—when his mother would laugh while feeding him warm miso soup in the kitchen.
Naoko tilted her head slightly, resting a hand on her cheek. Her smile was gentle, filled with warmth that could dissolve any chill. "Your mother is proud of you, Subaru." Her tone blended maternal pride with tender affection, the kind that made a person feel safe. With a small laugh, she turned toward the kitchen. "Alright, before breakfast gets cold, you two better come sit down!" The living room became awash with the rich scent of freshly steamed rice, golden toasted bread, and fragrant herbs freshly picked from the garden outside.
Within moments, everyone had taken their seats at the table. In the center sat a great pot of rice, still steaming, sending up ribbons of warmth. The clinking of chopsticks and utensils began to form a soft, homely melody. Naoko placed a plate piled high with vibrant green peas before Subaru. "I picked these from the garden yesterday. Eat something healthy and make your mom happy. No excuses—you're finishing them all!" She winked and nudged the plate toward him with an almost playful challenge.
Kenichi's booming laugh rolled across the table like thunder. "Ha! Good luck, son! Stick to a healthy diet like me, and maybe you'll grow to like them… but I warn you, those first days are torture!"
Subaru immediately pushed the plate toward his father. "Since you're so healthy, why don't you eat them? What do you say?" A teasing grin curved his lips.
Kenichi, unflinching, slid the plate right back. "Naoko served them to you, and you're going to eat them. No escape!"
"Then let's share them!" Subaru countered. Soon, the peas and rice were mixed together in one enormous plate, forming a mountain of vegetable rice that filled the air with a savory scent.
Hikari's eyes widened at the sight, and she swallowed nervously. "We're… really going to finish all of that?"
Kenichi doled out portions to everyone, then pressed his hands together. "Let's dig in!" he declared in a deep, satisfied voice.
The others followed his lead, echoing the words. Subaru lifted his first bite to his mouth, and with it came a wave of emotions.
The first bite brought warmth—memories of laughter echoing through the kitchen, tiny disagreements over who got the last dumpling, and the soothing cadence of his mother's voice bringing peace to the table.
The second bite carried guilt—sharp recollections of the times he had spoken harshly, walked away from the very warmth now before him, and chosen distance over love.
The third bite tightened his throat with regret. The truth pressed down on him: time could not be rewound, and what had been broken could not always be mended.
His eyes began to sting. Quickly, before anyone noticed, he finished the rest in silence. "Thanks for the food," he said softly, rising from the table and retreating to his room.
Once inside, he closed the door, leaned against it, and pulled his knees to his chest. Quiet sobs shook him. "I'm sorry… I shouldn't have treated you that way…" His hand clamped over his mouth to stifle the sound.
Minutes later, his breathing steadied. He wiped his eyes and was turning toward his desk when the door burst open.
"Yo! Subaru, what's up? How about a little father-son time?" Kenichi stood there, grinning mischievously, his voice carrying an almost boyish energy.
Subaru looked up and smiled faintly. "Ah… Sure, Dad." Beneath the ache, a subtle warmth bloomed in his chest.
Kenichi gave him a thumbs-up. "Half an hour. We're heading out. Be ready."
When Subaru was alone again, he glanced around his room with a small sigh. "Pretty plain…" Posters of silver-haired anime heroines covered the walls, their edges curling slightly. A small pile of books lay toppled in the corner, a crumpled shirt abandoned beside them. The heavy curtains remained drawn, sealing away the world beyond.
He walked to the window, moving a few scattered trinkets aside. With a swift motion, he pulled the curtains wide and pushed the window open. A cool spring breeze washed over him, carrying scents of damp earth, blooming flowers, and lingering traces of breakfast drifting in from other homes. The street below was calm, the garden outside vibrant with life, neighbors' laundry swaying gently in the wind. Everything was as it had always been—yet to Subaru, it felt different, more precious. He realized how long he had locked himself away from this simple beauty.
His gaze fell on the old game console tucked in the corner. A smile touched his lips. "I used to always play alone," he murmured, the words heavy with both nostalgia and resolve. Taking a long breath, he stepped out of the room, ready for whatever the day might bring.
Suddenly, the sound of tiny footsteps echoed through the hallway, quick and light, as though they belonged to someone who could barely contain their excitement. Hikari, her wide eyes sparkling like gemstones, came charging toward Subaru, the pitter-patter of her shoes growing louder until she flung herself into his arms. She wrapped her little arms around his neck so tightly it was as if she feared he might disappear. "Onii-chan! I'm going to school!" she declared, her voice brimming with the uncontainable joy of a fresh morning. She wore a perfectly pressed pink school dress with a short, snow-white cardigan, her shiny patent leather shoes catching the light as she moved. Her cheeks glowed a rosy red from excitement, and her neatly parted hair was tied into two playful pigtails that bounced with every movement.
"Onii-chan, will you take me to school? I want everyone there to see how cool my big brother is!" she added, her small hands resting firmly on his shoulders as if to anchor him in place.
Subaru scratched the back of his head with an amused grin. "Not a bad idea…" he murmured, imagining the scene for a moment. But before the thought could settle, their mother Naoko appeared from the corner. Her warm smile seemed to brighten the whole room as she swept Hikari up into her arms with practiced ease.
"Hikari! Today, I'm taking you to school myself. No arguments, or you'll make your mother sad," she said with a soft but commanding tone.
Hikari's eyes widened in mild panic, and she quickly hugged her mother's neck. "No, please don't be sad! I'll go with you, mommy" she whispered with earnest sincerity. Naoko smiled approvingly, stroking her daughter's hair. "That's my girl," she murmured.
Subaru watched quietly, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. How sweet… he thought to himself, a warmth blooming in his chest. Even the invisible Flugel stood off to the side, his ethereal form still, his eyes holding the weight of memories long past.
Once Naoko and Hikari stepped out the door, Subaru retreated to his room. He slid his closet open and tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm… might as well wear something comfortable." He pulled out his old black-and-orange tracksuit, slipping into it with a small sigh of satisfaction. After stretching his arms and loosening his shoulders, he said to no one in particular, "That feels better."
Minutes later, Subaru was walking down the street beside his father, Kenichi. The older man had his hands buried deep in his pockets, each step long and unhurried, his gaze casually scanning the surroundings. "Honestly, on my day off, I can't take three steps without someone asking, 'What happened to work?' Guess a little father-son time is a luxury these days, huh?" he muttered.
Subaru smirked and shook his head. "Dad… you just gave your number to a college girl. Aren't you worried about Mom at all?"
Kenichi's grin was downright devilish. "My heart belongs only to your mother! Besides, I gave her your number. So… good luck, son!"
Subaru burst into laughter despite himself. "oh Thanks… I suppose."
Kenichi laughed along. "That's more like it—keep that smile. I don't want to see you sulking first thing in the morning."
They continued on, the crisp air carrying the scent of fresh bread from a nearby bakery. "Young Ken! It's been ages—how have you been?" called an elderly man from the side of the road, his voice tinged with nostalgia. His eyes shifted to Subaru, curiosity sparking as his brows rose. "Ah, is that your boy?"
Kenichi looked at Subaru with a proud grin. "Yeah, my son… my pride" he said, the words carrying both gravity and warmth.
The old man leaned forward slightly, studying Subaru's face. "I was about to say he looks like you in your younger days, but no… there's something softer. Must take after his mother."
Subaru's smile turned shy. "Yeah… that's what people usually say. Especially about my eyes."
The old man's gaze softened, clouded with memories. "So Young Ken's boy has grown up… But wait, it's Monday, isn't it? Why aren't you in school?"
Subaru hesitated, then let out a slow breath. "Just… not feeling my best today. If you'll excuse me, sir." He quickened his pace, glancing back only briefly.
Kenichi offered a quick smile. "Sorry about that, sir. We'll catch up another time."
The old man nodded, calling after them. "Fair enough, Ken. And if I said anything out of line, give him my apologies."
Kenichi raised his hand in a dismissive wave. "No need. That's his matter to handle." His tone was steady, final, leaving no room for further discussion.
After a while, the two of them settled into a comfortable silence on a worn wooden bench in the park. A gentle breeze wove its way through the branches, carrying the scent of fresh grass and making the leaves above them whisper softly. In the distance, the carefree laughter of children playing reached their ears, mingling with the faint hum of the city beyond the park gates. Kenichi, sensing the heaviness lingering between them, stood up and wandered over to a vending machine nearby. With a few clinks of coins and a mechanical hum, two cans of cola dropped into the slot. He returned and handed one to Subaru with a playful wink. "Here you go—cola mixed with a dash of my fatherly love."
Subaru cracked the tab open without thinking, but the can hissed violently, sending a spray of icy fizz straight into his face. He flinched back, eyes squeezed shut, droplets sliding down his cheeks and dripping from his chin.
Kenichi burst out laughing, his voice booming across the quiet park. "Hahhahaha! Got you this time, kid!" He fished a clean handkerchief from his pocket and offered it with mock solemnity. "There, this should help you recover from the cola ambush."
Subaru wiped his face, sighing. "Dad, you know I don't need to bathe in soda to wake up. But… yeah, I guess I'm awake now."
Kenichi grinned, leaning back against the bench. "Alright, changing topics—tell me, Subaru. Do you have a girl you like?"
Subaru didn't hesitate. He'd been asked before and his answer hadn't changed. "Yeah… I do."
Kenichi tilted his head, the corners of his mouth lifting in an unreadable smile. "I see… hmhm."
Subaru caught the look instantly. "I know exactly where you're going with this, Dad. I'm your son, remember? You want to ask why I'm not going to school or visiting the girl I like, right?"
Kenichi adjusted his glasses, pretending to think it over. "Honestly, I was just trying—on rare occasion—to act like a thoughtful father. But yes, I was curious. You read me well, kiddo"
Subaru lowered his gaze, voice dropping to a near whisper. "I know I've been… disrespectful. To you and Mom." Each word came out slow, as if it weighed something.
Kenichi leaned back, his eyes drifting to the sky. Sunlight broke through the clouds in soft beams, casting a warm glow on his face. "You don't have to see it as disrespect. I believe you have your reasons. And even if you didn't, there's a limit to how much I'd push you. Sometimes… letting someone figure themselves out is the only way." He eased down beside Subaru again, their shoulders brushing, his tone gentler now. "The world praises school as if it's everything, but I'm not so sure. What matters most is educating your heart. If your heart refuses to learn, those textbooks won't do you much good."
Subaru let out a small huff. "You could've said that ages ago… Why now? What's so special about today?"
Kenichi's smile softened. "Because today… you seemed lighter. Your face, your voice, the way you carry yourself—it's all a little calmer. That's not something people miss, you know."
Subaru blinked. "Calmer… better?"
Kenichi nodded. "Not in appearance—your face is the same as always. But your eyes… they've got that 'villain glare' you inherited from your mother." He chuckled quietly at his own joke, but his humor faded. "And beneath that glare… I can still see it. Your fears."
Subaru's lips curved into a faint, reluctant smile. Sitting next to his father brought a strange warmth to his chest—an ease that came simply from his presence, even without words. But that fragile peace felt like it could vanish at any moment, like the breeze carrying the laughter of children might simply shift and leave only silence behind.
Subaru's expression turned grave, his voice trembling as if each word had to crawl out from a deep, raw wound. "I knew everything… I knew why I was so afraid… why fear had wrapped its hands around my throat and crushed me so completely. I knew it, but I pretended I didn't. Because admitting it would mean showing you just how pitiful and broken I really was. I couldn't bear to let you see that side of me. Instead, I wanted you to think I was just a hopeless fool, an idiot—someone you could dismiss as a self-important kid spouting nonsense. Because if you did that… then I could tell you'd already given up on me. And maybe… maybe that would hurt less than knowing you still cared. Because if you still cared, I'd have no excuse for failing you."
His breath shuddered as he looked away, eyes clouding with memories he wished he could erase. "Ever since I was a kid, I coasted through life on luck. Schoolwork, sports… things just worked out. Until one day, they didn't. Slowly, I started losing at the things I thought I was best at. And when I realized my 'best' was slipping away, I gave up. I filled the gaps with stupid distractions, mischief—anything to feel like I still belonged somewhere. As long as my friends stuck around, I thought I'd be fine. But one by one, they vanished. They didn't leave suddenly—it was like they quietly drifted away, piece by piece, until one day, there was just silence. And when I finally looked around… I was walking alone."
He clenched his fists, the sound of his knuckles faint but sharp. "I realized I wasn't someone special like you or Mom. I was just a failed project." His hands trembled as he swiped at the tears gathering in his eyes, as if even those were something he didn't deserve to have. The shame of crying in front of his father twisted in his chest, but the words kept spilling out.
"After that, I learned to stay invisible. That's how I made it to high school. I thought I could start fresh, maybe hide my weaknesses better. But my so-called grand debut? A disaster. Of course it was. Someone who couldn't connect with people in middle school wasn't going to magically become popular. I stood in crowded hallways feeling like a ghost, watching everyone else live their lives. That's when it hit me… I didn't even want to go to school anymore. So I stopped. First days. Then weeks. Then months. And with every day I stayed inside, the world outside felt heavier, colder—like it had decided there was no place for me in it. The walls of my room became my cage, and I convinced myself I was safer there."
Subaru's throat tightened, his voice raw. "But, Dad, Mom… no matter what I did… no matter how much I screwed up… you both never changed. You still treated me the same. And that terrified me. Sometimes… I wanted you to shout at me, throw me out, tell me I'd crossed the line. Because then… I'd know you'd finally given up. But as long as you looked at me with that same warmth… it meant you still cared. And I didn't deserve that. It felt like your kindness was burning me alive."
His head dropped, fingers knotting together on his knees. "A kid like Hikari would make sure you never even noticed I was gone."
Kenichi's chair scraped against the floor as he shot to his feet, eyes blazing with an energy Subaru hadn't seen in years. "Subaru…" His voice carried a weight that froze the air. Then, without warning, he raised one foot high and brought his heel down hard on Subaru's head.
"DAD KICK!!"
"AAAGGGHHH!!" Subaru toppled to the floor, clutching his head in agony, the pain both shocking and oddly grounding.
Lowering his leg with an almost theatrical flourish, Kenichi smirked with satisfaction. "See that? That's my special Dad Kick—forged in the fires of pure paternal wrath! And you saw the height on that, right? I'm basically an Olympic gymnast. Bet you didn't think your old man had that kind of form, huh?"
Subaru groaned, rubbing his head. "That was just a sledgehammer kick…"
Kenichi's grin faded, his eyes narrowing into something sharper, more deliberate. "You really are an idiot. You just said a mountain of frustrating things, but the worst? Wanting me to hate you while acting like a shut-in. Are you kidding me? If you wanted me to throw you out, you should've picked a better reason! Who throws away their own kid just because he's struggling? If that's where your head's at, you've been twisting your own thoughts into knots for way too long. I swear, I'll knock them straight if I have to!" He cracked his fists together, the sound sharp enough to echo.
Then, after a pause, he let out a long breath, his tone softening into something steady and warm. "But… it's clear you've already taken the hard road and learned a few things on your own. And that's worth more than you think."
Subaru hesitated, his gaze meeting his father's with a strange mix of vulnerability and resolve. Then he took his father's outstretched hand. "I told you I've got someone I love. And there are people who care about me—not as Kenichi's son, but as Natsuki Subaru. Actually… no. I've always been Natsuki Subaru. I just forgot that for a while."
Kenichi smiled faintly, his voice low but certain. "You finally get it. I was ready to beat it into you, but… not realizing how much you looked up to me—that's on me. Sorry for being such a big part of your life, son. I guess I never realized how much you were carrying."
Subaru's lips curved into a tired but genuine smile. "I've made it through, Dad. Don't worry. And… I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused you both. But… I think I'm ready to walk forward now."
Kenichi shook his head slowly, his eyes narrowing with a mix of seriousness and affection. "If you think you can just get away with a simple apology, you're wrong, Subaru. You're going to take your time with this… and when your mother and I grow old, you'll be there to take care of us. That'll be enough for me. You're my son." His voice carried a warmth that wrapped around the words, ending with a bright smile as he raised his thumb in a gesture of pride.
Subaru lowered his gaze, his lips pressing together, a trace of sadness hidden behind the faint smile he managed. No… not now. I can't tell him now. The thought echoed quietly in his mind. One day, he promised himself, he would go to his parents and speak honestly. But that day still felt far beyond the horizon, hidden behind clouds he wasn't ready to face.
They walked in silence for a while, the steady rhythm of their footsteps mixing with the distant rustle of wind through the trees. The scent of earth and leaves drifted through the air, grounding Subaru in the moment even as his thoughts wandered. Before long, they reached a fork in the road. Kenichi broke the quiet, his tone casual yet laced with meaning. "I'm going to take the long route—need the exercise. You can head home."
Subaru stretched his arms lightly, forcing an air of nonchalance though his heart felt heavier than he let on. "Alright, I'll go ahead."
He had just begun to turn away when Kenichi's voice called out again, firmer this time. "Hey, Subaru… I'm sure you've got a lot of troubles on your shoulders. But the only thing I'll say is… 'keep trying.' I've got high expectations for you, son. Don't let the weight stop you."
The words landed deep, like a stone dropped into still water, sending ripples through Subaru's chest. He turned back to look at his father. A faint breeze tugged at his hair, carrying with it a sense of clarity. Slowly, a smile spread across his face, his eyes alight with a quiet, determined fire. "Don't worry, Dad… After all, I'm your son. That's why I can do anything… AND I WILL!"
Kenichi chuckled softly, the pride in his gaze as clear as the afternoon light. He gave a small nod, the corners of his mouth lifting. "That's my boy… After all, I made half of you."
They shared one last look—an unspoken promise, solid and enduring—before turning to walk in opposite directions. Father and son, each with steady steps, followed their own path. And though the road split between them, the warmth of their bond lingered in the air, tethering their hearts across the distance.