Part 1 — The Quiet Morning
Morning light crept softly through the windows, spilling pale gold across the tatami mats.
Ayame stirred awake, blinking against the gentle brightness. Her eyes fell on Kaito, still asleep on his futon, chest rising and falling steadily—but she sensed something was off. His hands were clenched lightly, and a faint tension lingered in his posture.
She rose quietly, not wanting to wake him, and padded over to the mirror. Her reflection greeted her: hair slightly mussed, eyes still heavy with sleep. She felt tired, but a small, tired smile curved her lips.
After splashing her face with cold water and brushing her hair into place, Ayame dressed and slipped downstairs.
The living room was calm. Renjiro sat on the sofa, reading a thick scroll, posture relaxed but alert in that way only an older brother could manage.
From the kitchen came the soft clatter of dishes and the faint smell of breakfast. Akari moved with quiet efficiency, humming softly as she prepared the morning meal.
Ayame paused for a moment, taking in the scene. The house was waking slowly, each sound and movement ordinary, peaceful… almost a stark contrast to the tension she'd glimpsed in Kaito just moments ago.
She let out a soft breath, then stepped forward, ready to greet the day.
Kaito stirred on his futon, blinking against the creeping morning light. He rubbed at his eyes and slowly sat up, the events of the night still lingering in his mind like a shadow.
Downstairs, the smell of breakfast drifted through the house. Ayame quickly went to freshen up, brushing her hair and adjusting her clothes, her small smile still in place despite the lingering tiredness from early morning.
Kaito made his way to the living room, slumping onto the sofa. Renjiro gave him a brief, knowing glance but said nothing. The breakfast table was already set, and the smell of warm rice and tea filled the room.
They ate in quiet, the sound of clinking bowls and gentle sips the only interruption. Ayame finished quickly and excused herself to get ready for the day.
Once she was gone, Akari approached Kaito, her steps quiet but purposeful. She crouched slightly to meet his eyes, her expression gentle but searching.
"Kaito… what were you doing last night?" she asked softly.
"Sleeping," he muttered, keeping his gaze on the floor.
Akari's eyes narrowed slightly, noticing something off. "Then… why is your shirt torn?"
Kaito froze. He hadn't noticed until now—or hadn't allowed himself to think about it. Slowly, he looked down, and his expression shifted. His brow furrowed, jaw tight, and a strange mix of fear and confusion flashed in his eyes.
"…I… I don't know," he said quietly, voice low. His hands instinctively gripped the edges of the sofa, as if grounding himself.
Akari studied him for a moment, her intuition telling her that whatever had happened last night wasn't just a dream.
Akari watched Kaito disappear up the stairs, the playful edge in her expression fading as the house grew quiet again.
She turned and headed upstairs, her steps light as she reached her room. The door creaked softly as she pushed it open.
Haruto was still asleep on the futon beside the bed.
At first glance, he looked peaceful—but a second look said otherwise. His brows were drawn tight, his breathing shallow and uneven, like he was trapped somewhere far from the room. One of his hands twitched faintly, fingers curling as if grasping at something unseen.
Akari stopped near the doorway.
"…You're not fine, are you?" she murmured.
She moved closer, kneeling beside him. For a moment, she considered waking him—but she'd seen this before. Waking him now would only leave him shaken and confused.
So instead, she gently pulled the blanket up, smoothing it over his shoulder.
"Rest," she whispered. "I've got you."
Haruto stirred slightly, then settled again.
Akari let out a quiet breath and stood. She changed quickly, then left the room, closing the door with care.
Downstairs, Kaito and Ayame were already there, both dressed and ready. Ayame adjusted her collar, while Kaito lingered near the sofa, his earlier confidence nowhere to be seen.
Renjiro was waiting by the entrance.
"Time," he said.
Without another word, he led Kaito and Ayame out toward the academy.
The door shut behind them.
Upstairs, in Akari's room, Haruto remained asleep—
still bound to a dream that refused to let go.