Chapter 69: Chapter 28

Retsu stood at the front entrance of Seijirou’s home, her movements formal now that her professional facade was fully restored.

She smiled at Seijirou and executed a perfect, shallow bow.

"Thank you for the meal, Seijirou," she said, her voice courteous and entirely devoid of the previous intimacy. "I will compile a detailed report for your mother regarding your physical condition and send it to her tonight. Please remember to refrain from heavy exertion."

"Will do, Retsu," Seijirou replied easily, standing at the door. "And also, do inform your grandfather that if I have time, I would love to meet him."

"Understood."

She then gave him a brief, almost clinical smile, said her final goodbyes, and turned to leave.

Seijirou watched from the doorway as she walked through the outer gates, but just before she was completely out of sight, she paused, turned back, and offered him a final, fleeting wave.

He waved his hand back, and Retsu smiled before disappearing from his view.

Without another word, he entered his house and closed the door, the click of the lock sounding unnecessarily loud in the empty house.

He walked into the living room, sat down on the expensive sofa, and leaned his head back, staring blankly at the perfectly white ceiling.

What now? he mused. The sudden, unplanned holiday felt strangely empty.

He was so accustomed to the constant stimulation and high-stakes maneuvering of school life—from academic challenges to his complex social and delinquent activities—that the forced idleness was unsettling.

He didn’t realize how accustomed he had become to the chaos. It was actually so boring when there weren’t any classes or schemes to manage.

If his past self heard him say this, he would surely curse him.

"Well, better watch some anime."

Without much better to do, he lay down properly on the sofa, grabbed the remote, and turned on the massive television, flipping through channels until he landed on a predictable, action-heavy anime, letting the noise fill the silence.

*

*

*

At this same moment, across town, a young man named Tadano Taro stood before a small, unremarkably designed apartment building.

He knew his childhood friend, Tachibana Rei, lived in one of the cramped units, after all he had been here before, and more than once.

But unlike those moments though, where he was happy to see his friend in her home, now he wore an expression of nervous determination.

He took a deep breath and knocked gently on the door of the specified apartment.

A moment later, the gentle, familiar voice of Rei, slightly muffled by the wood, called out, "Coming!"

The door opened, revealing Rei, her short, delicate pink hair was slightly disheveled, suggesting she had been resting or reading.

She was casually dressed in a simple white t-shirt and black combi-shorts, and a small, welcoming smile touched her lips as she opened the door.

But when her bright golden eyes focused and registered Taro’s presence, the smile immediately evaporated, replaced by an expression of sharp coldness.

Her eyes became distant and guarded.

"Tadano-kun," she said, her voice flat, using his formal last name instead of his given name. "What are you doing here?"

Taro looked distinctly awkward, shifting his weight. "Rei... I heard about the incident yesterday. With Basuta and everything at school. I—I came because I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Rei leaned against the door frame, crossing her arms loosely.

"I’m fine," she confirmed curtly, and a brief, tense silence hung between them. "Is that all you wanted to say?"

Taro hesitated, drawing out the silence for a long, uncomfortable moment.

He squeezed his eyes shut, as if steeling himself for an unpleasant task. Then, he took a deep, audible breath, sighed heavily, and executed a deep, formal bow, his head lowered in a gesture of sincere contrition.

"It is all my fault," he confessed, his voice thick with guilt. "If I hadn’t been so careless, so weak... none of this would have happened. I hoped you could find it in your heart to forgive me, Rei."

Hearing this, some of the icy rigidity in Rei’s eyes softened as she let out a small, tired sigh.

’After all this time,’ she thought, ’I really can’t stay angry at him.’

He was her oldest friend, and he had finally done the one thing she needed: he had lowered his head and sincerely apologized, admitting his mistake and the consequences of his fear.

To continue holding the grudge, now that he was genuinely contrite, felt like she would be the jerk.

"It’s alright, Taro," she conceded, the softness returning to her voice. "I forgive you."

Taro’s face brightened instantly, the relief palpable as he stood up straight, hope replacing the guilt in his eyes.

"Really? Thank you, Rei! Then... then can we continue going to school together again? Like we used to?"

Rei hesitated again, the memory of her near-assault still fresh as she weighed her safety against her discomfort.

’It would be safer to have someone accompany me, especially with everything that happened. Can never be too careful.’ she though, as she pushed aside her residual bitterness and decided to agree.

"Yes," she confirmed, offering a small, fragile nod. "We can."

Taro’s smile returned, wider and more genuine than before.

He then reached into his pocket and pulled out two crisp movie tickets. "That’s wonderful! I just bought these. Are you busy today? If not, we should go watch a movie together, what do you think?"

Rei’s gentle expression turned apologetic as she shook her head. "I’m sorry, Taro. I actually have a lot of things I need to take care of today. I can’t accompany you."

Taro’s smile faltered, and the light quickly faded from his eyes.

"Oh," he muttered, the disappointment clear in his voice. "Is that so?"

He then tried quickly to reassure her, his voice forcing a cheerfulness he didn’t feel. "It’s alright, really. I understand. I can go alone."

With a final, awkward bow, he told her to take care before turning and walking quickly away, leaving her standing in the doorway.

Rei watched his retreating back, a complicated mixture of sadness, guilt, and lingering resentment clouding her face.

She closed the door softly and leaned against it, letting out another deep sigh.

’Forgiveness is easy,’ she thought, reflecting on their shattered connection. ’But fixing what broke is the real problem.’

Although a shattered mirror can be pieced back together, it won’t make the cracks disappear.

"Just like our friendship."

The trust, once lost, left behind indelible fault lines.

*

*

*

Taro walked quickly down the street, his earlier nervousness and the subsequent disappointment over Rei’s refusal melting away the further he got from her apartment.

The recent, awkward conversation with his childhood friend, which had felt so monumental moments ago, was now already becoming a hazy, unpleasant memory, quickly superseded by a different, brighter anticipation.

Although he had told Rei he could watch the movie alone, the truth was the thought of sitting in a dark theater by himself, clutching two useless tickets, held zero appeal.

He balled up the unused tickets and stuffed them into his pocket.

Instead, a better destination formed in his mind: he decided to head to the small, cozy café owned by his other friend, Fujiwara Touka.

Thinking of her, a genuine, easy smile finally broke through his worried expression.

Touka was different. She was warm, endlessly supportive, and possessed a calming, sunny disposition that made spending time with her effortless.

Taro felt a deep connection with her. He felt like they were already incredibly close, sharing inside jokes and comfortable silences.

But he was perpetually confused about the exact nature of this strong emotion he felt towards her.

He still didn’t know if this overwhelming feeling was truly love, after all, he felt the same confusing swirl of protective affection and intense attraction for his childhood friend, Rei, and also for his elegant, aloof classmate, Haruka.

’It couldn’t possibly be that I’m in love with three people right?’ he thought, shaking his head slightly at the sheer absurdity of the notion. ’That would be ridiculous. That only happens in those manga stories.’

So, for now, he had decided on a simple strategy: he needed to get close to her—to all of them—as much as possible, until one emotion clearly stood out as the winner.

And currently, Touka offered the path of least resistance.

Rei was likely still nursing resentment, even though she had formally forgiven him; their friendship felt fragile, like thin ice.

And Haruka was notoriously cold, distant, and intimidatingly perfect, making any sincere approach feel like scaling a sheer wall.

That left Touka as the most approachable, the one whose company offered immediate comfort and simple enjoyment.

With his objective clear, Taro’s step lightened.

He hummed a cheerful, off-key tune to himself and hurried his pace, eager to reach Touka’s café and immerse himself in her welcoming presence.

He looked forward to simply sitting, drinking a coffee, and enjoying a simple, uncomplicated afternoon.