Chapter 8 – Want a Bowl of Oden?
"You… you okay?"
Kazama Sakura looked anxious the moment Yuzuki Gen walked out of the teacher's office.
She didn't even think about her own situation anymore—her biggest worry now was that Gen might've gotten himself into trouble for her sake. As much as she despised Yamazaki's arrogance, she knew it wasn't entirely without basis.
But she was confident: as long as she didn't yield, no one could force her to do anything.
All she hoped was that Gen wouldn't do something reckless.
Gen shook his head.
"What could possibly happen to me? But… looks like there's not much more I can do to help you."
Surprisingly, Sakura wasn't disappointed.
She had never really expected someone else to carry her burdens for her. Instead, she felt oddly comforted—he had tried. And that was already more than enough.
She smiled, pushing away the sadness that had started to well up inside.
Softly, she said, "It's okay. Really, it's okay."
For the rest of the afternoon, until the final bell rang, Sakura kept her emotions carefully tucked away.
She looked like her usual self—laughing with classmates, cheerful and sweet. Maybe even more so than usual.
After school, as always, she walked home alongside Yuzuki Gen.
As they stepped outside, the sky was bathed in the orange glow of sunset. She looked up, murmuring softly:
"The sky's so beautiful."
Gen paused and glanced up. "Looks the same as every other day to me."
Sakura puffed out her cheeks slightly. "That's not true at all. Nothing's ever exactly the same. Different places, different people… all show you a different sky."
"Fair point," Gen replied.
Sakura looked at his side profile—still that calm, laid-back look. Even his usual emotional cluelessness somehow felt... endearing.
She suddenly felt a pang of sadness.
Would she still be able to see this boy like this again?
People talk about replacements—but how do you replace someone who walked with you through such a specific time in life?
She remembered the first time he walked into class—white shirt, quiet confidence, ignoring everyone, heading straight to the seat behind her.
Then he looked up and smiled at her.
"Hi. I'm Yuzuki Gen."
That moment was better than any romantic movie she'd ever seen.
"Hey, Gen."
"Hm?"
"If one day we never see each other again… will you think of me sometimes?"
Gen blinked. "Why? You got cancer or something?"
"Wha—No!!" she shouted, face burning with embarrassment.
Gen tilted his head. "You're not dying, right? So why wouldn't I see you again? You've got two working legs—you can come find me anytime."
"Why can't you come find me?!"
Fair enough.
This wasn't some tragic goodbye. They'd just be in different schools. There were still phones. Occasional visits.
But… less time together. Less privacy. And what if he met someone prettier? Funnier? More interesting?
Would he forget her?
Most friendships faded over time anyway, didn't they?
Gen blinked slowly. "Well, it's not like I'd ever leave you first. But if you walk away and expect me to chase after you... wouldn't that make me a total simp?"
"You're the worst!" she huffed—but inside, she felt warm.
He won't leave me first…?
Was that really how he saw her?
She really didn't want to say goodbye.
One last glance at the school gates.
Then she remembered that girl who confessed to Gen before transferring—the one who said everything she felt because she didn't want regrets.
Should I say something too?
Looking at Gen's tall frame, the curve of his jaw, even the line of his Adam's apple… a wild impulse surged in her chest.
"Gen…"
"Kazama."
He suddenly turned to look at her, eyes serious.
Her words caught in her throat.
Face flushed, she blinked rapidly. "W-what is it?"
"You're acting weird today."
"M-me? No, I'm totally normal!"
She didn't know what to do. Gen was leaning in slightly, eyes narrowed, and his familiar scent filled her senses.
She wanted to step back… but she also wanted to stay close.
Her heart was pounding—but in a good way.
"If that's true, then why are you saying such strange things? Like you're trying to say goodbye."
He noticed…?
Sakura's chest tightened. She didn't want him to know—not yet. She had finally made up her mind. She didn't want that resolve to waver.
And she didn't want to drag this already burdened boy into her mess.
She forced a laugh. "No, no. Nothing like that. Just been in a weird mood lately—kinda sentimental, I guess."
"I see."
Gen stepped ahead, stopping at the crosswalk. The signal light glowed red.
"If the sky never gets dark, the streetlights never turn on."
"Huh?"
She didn't understand what he meant.
But Gen blinked at her with a faint smile.
"I'm heading home. See you later."
That see you later—it wasn't a farewell.
But still, with the light about to change, and the two of them about to go their separate ways, Sakura felt a sudden rush of panic.
"Gen!"
He turned back.
She stood there, face pink, with the sweetest smile he'd ever seen. The color in her cheeks rivaled the sunset.
"Make sure you live every day happily, okay?"
He grinned, showing his teeth.
"You too."
"Mm!"
Was there a hint of regret?
Of course.
Even after he disappeared from view, she still hadn't mustered the courage to say everything in her heart.
You're even less brave than that plain-looking girl.
How pathetic, Kazama Sakura.
But she had already made up her mind.
Once she got home, she would tell her mother that she had decided to drop out of this school.
She would try to convince her that she would continue studying seriously, that she'd work hard and not let her down.
She wouldn't let her down.
Absolutely not.
When she arrived at the doorstep of her home—
Bang!
A deafening crash froze her in place.
From inside came the sound of shouting—an all-too-familiar voice, on the verge of a furious roar.
"This is all your fault! Ever since I married you, nothing in my life has gone right! You're a damn curse! And that daughter of yours—what good has she ever done? Do you know how much her tuition costs every year? Do you know how many drinks I have to down and how many fake smiles I have to plaster on just to support the two of you? And after all that, you dare give me attitude? Go to hell!"
Crash!
Something else was smashed.
When the front door was yanked open in a drunken rage, Sakura stood there in a daze.
And there he was—her father, reeking of alcohol, looming in front of her.
He paused for a second, seemingly surprised.
But his anger hadn't cooled.
"What are you doing standing around? I'm not eating at home—get inside already, and stop loitering!"
With that, the man staggered past her, dragging his coat, and disappeared into the night, trailing booze and resentment behind him.
Kazama Sakura stepped inside like a ghost.
It was a disaster zone.
Shattered vases.
Broken ashtrays.
Jagged shards scattered everywhere, reflecting the blank, expressionless face of her mother.
When her mother noticed her standing there, she forced a small smile.
She calmly swept up the mess as if it were nothing out of the ordinary and said softly:
"It's okay. Don't be scared. Once I divorce him, I promise I'll raise you on my own. You just focus on your studies, okay?"
"Get into a good university. Find a good job. That'll make everything worth it—for me."
Sakura couldn't remember how she responded.
That suffocating, crushing feeling surged up again—like an invisible hand wrapped around her throat and clenched tight around her heart.
Maybe she nodded.
Maybe she just muttered "mm."
She couldn't recall.
She didn't even remember how she got back to her room, or when she closed the door behind her.
She buried her face in her pillow.
"Ah—"
Even her crying couldn't be loud.
She had never felt the future so close before.
And she had never felt life this colorless, this empty.
That overwhelming despair rushed in like a flood, drowning the entire room—swallowing her whole.
Did she even have a choice?
Was she going to surrender?
No.
Absolutely not.
She would never become like her mother, placing all her hopes on someone else.
But…
It still hurt so much.
Knock knock knock.
Suddenly, the door was knocked.
Sakura's tear-streaked face lifted in confusion.
"Mom?"
Her mother's voice came from outside.
"Sakura, one of your classmates is here to see you. Come out."
"Huh? A classmate?!"
She blinked, stunned.
Very few of her classmates knew where she lived. Most of them came from far better families. And she—well, she always had a "ugly duckling" complex.
She was always afraid they'd look down on her for living in an old, run-down building like this.
Besides, it was already so late—the sky had gone dark.
Who could it possibly be?
Cautiously, she opened her door, walked out to the entryway, and pulled the front door open.
And there he was.
That familiar, handsome face.
His hands were tucked in his pockets, and as always, he wore that warm, easygoing smile.
"Good evening. Want to go get some oden?"
Her eyes widened.
Something heavy and warm rushed up from her chest—emotions surging uncontrollably.
Her face flushed a deep red in an instant.
"Wait—wait a second!!"
Bang.
She slammed the door shut and dashed back to her room like a storm.
In front of her mirror, she stared at her tear-streaked face and frantically applied makeup.
"Why would he come at a time like this?! Ughhh—he totally saw me crying! It's all ruined…"
…