CHAPTER VI
~Footsteps After Midnight~
The house was silent, wrapped in the hush of deep night and the lingering patter of rain. Yuzuki stirred, her mouth dry, and slowly peeled the blanket from her body. Careful not to disturb Kaito’s mother sleeping nearby, she slipped out of bed and tiptoed across the tatami, each step soft and deliberate.
She eased open the sliding door, wincing at the faint creak, and padded down the darkened hallway. The wooden stairs felt cool beneath her feet as she descended, every step measured so as not to wake the rest of the family. The kitchen’s outline emerged in the dim light, and Yuzuki made her way toward the sink, intent on quenching her thirst.
Suddenly, a sharp sound shattered the stillness—the unmistakable click of the main door closing. Yuzuki froze, heart hammering in her chest. The noise was too deliberate, too heavy to be the wind. It sounded exactly like someone closing the door from outside.
Panic prickled at her skin. She abandoned her quest for water and hurried toward the entryway, her breath caught in her throat. The darkness seemed to thicken as she reached the foyer.
There, the umbrella stand caught her eye. It was supposed to hold five umbrellas, but now only three remained—two were missing. Yuzuki’s gaze darted to the shoe rack. Two pairs of shoes were gone as well, unmistakably Kaito’s and his father’s.
Her mind raced—where could they have gone at this hour, and why?
Just as Yuzuki’s anxiety peaked, a sudden voice boomed from behind her:
“BHOOOOO!”
She spun around, startled, her heart leaping into her throat, the mystery of the missing shoes and umbrellas momentarily forgotten in the shock of the unexpected scare.
Souta’s grin was mischievous, clearly pleased with the effect of his jumpscare. “Were you trying to escape, Nee-chan? In this heavy downpour?” he teased, eyes sparkling with excitement.
Yuzuki laughed softly, shaking her head. “Oh. Oh no, Souta-kun. I just came to have a sip of water, that’s all.” She kept her tone light, hoping to steer his attention away from the door and the missing shoes—she didn’t want to worry him.
“Aha! I see. Me too, actually. Then you must’ve heard the door close and rushed here, right?” He was earnest, his curiosity undimmed.
“Uh—yeah,” Yuzuki replied, playing along.
“I see,” Souta said, satisfied. He turned the corner and padded into the kitchen. Yuzuki followed as he climbed onto the little chair placed by the switch, flicked on the light, and hopped down. He hurried to the water dispenser, poured a cup, and handed it to Yuzuki before filling another for himself.
Yuzuki pulled out two chairs from the dining table so they could sit together. Souta joined her, swinging his legs as he sipped his water.
After a few gulps, Souta started chatting, “Big bro and Papa always go out during late hours at night and come back in the morning. That’s how it’s always been.”
Yuzuki’s brows furrowed, her suspicion piqued. “Why so?”
Souta shrugged, his tone matter-of-fact. “I don’t know. But Papa always said when I’m in 5th grade, he’ll tell me! Just one more grade to go!” His excitement was infectious.
“Aha. I see. All the best then!” Yuzuki grinned, raising her cup in a little toast.
“Hehe, thank you, Nee-chan! Nee-chan!!! I have a question.” He leaned in, eyes wide.
“Yeah? Go ahead,” Yuzuki encouraged, bracing herself.
“Are you big bro’s girlfriend?”
Yuzuki nearly choked on her water. “WHAT? N-no! Not at all. You’re mistaken. We’re just friends.” Her cheeks flushed as she waved her hands in denial, but Souta only giggled, unconvinced, his curiosity as lively as ever.
Souta burst into a fit of giggles, swinging his legs under the chair. “Ehhh? But you two are always together! And Big Bro never brings girls home except you, Nee-chan!”
Yuzuki’s cheeks grew warmer as she tried to keep her composure. “That’s because we’re just good friends, Souta-kun. I knew him since I moved into Takayama.”
He tilted his head, considering this with the seriousness only a little brother could muster. “Hmm… But you’d make a good girlfriend! You’re nice, and you help Mama, and you’re not scared of thunder.”
Yuzuki laughed, the tension in her chest easing. “Haha. You think so? That's cute, Souta-kun. But I think your brother would be embarrassed if he heard you say that.”
Souta grinned mischievously. “Maybe I’ll tell him in the morning!”
She shook her head, smiling. “If you do, I’ll have to tickle you until you can’t breathe!”
He squealed, pretending to hide behind his cup, then peeked out with a conspiratorial whisper, “Nee-chan, if you ever do become Big Bro’s girlfriend, can I call you Onee-chan for real?”
Yuzuki’s heart softened at his innocent hope. She reached out and ruffled his hair. “You can call me whatever you like, Souta. I’ll always be your older sister.”
He beamed, satisfied with her answer. “Yay! You’re the best, Nee-chan!”
They finished their water, the kitchen now filled with quiet warmth and the soft hum of the refrigerator. Souta yawned, rubbing his eyes. “I’m sleepy now…”
“Let’s go back to bed,” Yuzuki said gently, standing up and taking his empty cup. She guided him out of the kitchen, turning off the light, and together they tiptoed back upstairs, leaving the mysteries of the night—and the missing umbrellas and shoes—for tomorrow.
By 2 PM, rain still lashed against the windows, turning the world outside a deep, unbroken gray. The living room was a haven of warmth and laughter. Yuzuki knelt on the tatami, surrounded by Souta and Renji, their little hands pushing toy cars and trucks across the floor, making engine noises and giggling as they raced their vehicles around makeshift tracks.
Kaito’s father sat nearby, cross-legged on a floor cushion with his laptop open on the low table, occasionally glancing up from his remote work to watch the children play. The comforting aroma of simmering lunch drifted from the kitchen, where their mother moved about, preparing the midday meal.
Suddenly, her voice rang out, cheerful and inviting: “Souta, Renji, Yuzuki!”
The boys dropped their toys, scrambling to their feet at their mother’s call. Renji, the youngest, bounced in place, his excitement barely contained. Yuzuki smiled and followed the boys into the kitchen, where the mother greeted them with a grin. “There’s pastry in the fridge—go ahead and have some before lunch!”
Renji squealed with joy, jumping up and down, his small fists pumping the air. Souta darted to the fridge, yanking open the door and pulling out the pastry box with triumphant glee. Yuzuki crossed the kitchen to the cupboard, retrieving dessert plates and forks for everyone.
Souta, unable to contain himself, dashed back into the living room with the pastry box, Renji and Yuzuki trailing behind, laughter echoing through the house. Their mother watched them go, shaking her head in fond amusement.
In the living room, Yuzuki carefully sliced the pastry and served generous portions to Souta and Renji, who dug in with delighted exclamations. She then offered a plate to Kaito’s father, who looked up from his laptop with a gentle smile.
“Thank you, Yuzuki-chan, but I’ll wait for lunch. You enjoy it with the boys,” he said, waving her on politely.
Yuzuki nodded, accepting his answer, and sat down with Souta and Renji, sharing in their joy as the rain continued to fall outside.
A low, sleepy groan drifted through the living room, drawing everyone’s attention. The shoji door slid open just enough to reveal Kaito, hair tousled, eyes half-closed, scratching his stomach as he shuffled inside. He let out a long yawn, still clearly caught between sleep and waking, and ambled straight toward his father.
Without a word, Kaito leaned against his father’s shoulder, eyes drooping shut almost instantly. His father, still focused on his laptop, simply smiled and ruffled Kaito’s hair with his free hand, a silent gesture of affection that spoke of years of easy routine.
Yuzuki, still seated on the tatami with the pastry box and the little brothers, narrowed her eyes at the two men—one barely awake, the other pretending not to notice the extra weight on his arm.
Kaito, still bleary-eyed, finally pushed himself upright, gathered his composure, and left the living room to go freshen up. The sound of his footsteps faded as he disappeared down the hallway.
Yuzuki, watching for her moment, quickly finished her pastry and turned to Souta and Renji. “I’ll be right back, okay?” she said, lifting her plate and spoon as if to wash them. The boys nodded, too absorbed in their treat to pay much attention.
She glanced toward the kitchen, making sure Kaito’s mother was busy, then quietly slipped out of sight and padded up the stairs, plate in hand. Halfway up, she spotted Kaito climbing toward the upstairs bathroom. He paused, sensing her presence, and turned to find her looking up at him.
Yuzuki pressed a finger to her lips, signaling for silence. Kaito nodded, understanding, and continued up the stairs, ducking into his room. She followed, closing the door softly behind her and setting the plate on his side table.
He turned to face her, a hint of old frustration in his eyes. “You rejected me. How else do you plan on humiliating me?” he asked, voice low.
He’s still on about that? Yuzuki thought, suppressing a sigh. “That’s all in the past. What’s more worrying is who locked us in the classroom yesterday.”
Kaito shook his head. “I don’t know. And I don’t think we’ll ever be able to find out either.”
“What do you mean? There are CCTV cameras in school. We’ll ask about the footage when school opens,” Yuzuki suggested.
“No. The CCTV cameras have been under maintenance since last week,” he replied.
“HUH? Really?” Yuzuki’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“Yeah,” Kaito confirmed.
“Then shouldn’t we at least inform the headmaster? What if other students are still locked in, like we were?” she pressed.
“Yeah, you’re right. But have you seen the headmaster at school lately?” he countered.
“No…” she admitted, her voice dropping. Then, suddenly, her eyes lit up. “Wait! You prefects have a group chat, right? With all the prefects from every section?”
“And?” Kaito asked, cautious.
“We should at least tell them we were locked in yesterday. If it happened to us, it could happen to others too,” she insisted.
Kaito shrugged. “As if they’d do anything with the weather like this!”
“Right…” Yuzuki echoed, her energy deflating.
“Uhh… and, one more thing.” Kaito’s tone shifted, making her look up. He met her gaze, searching. “Yuzuki-san, when we were supposed to take that last stairwell on the first floor, why did you pause?”
Yuzuki’s eyes widened, relief and urgency mixing in her voice. “That’s exactly what I was about to ask you! Didn’t you see a tall boy with black hair and a black outfit standing there?”
Kaito’s expression shifted, the playful light in his eyes fading into something more serious and shadowed. For a moment, the room seemed to grow colder.
“Yeah,” he said quietly, his tone low and tense. “Even I saw him.”
Yuzuki’s brows knitted in concern. “But what do you think he was doing there so late, in the middle of a thunderstorm, inside the school?”
Kaito’s mood broke suddenly, a mischievous grin flickering across his face. “Probably waiting for his girlfriend,” he quipped, letting out a short laugh.
With practiced ease, he slid past Yuzuki, his earlier tension replaced by teasing nonchalance. He opened the door, glancing back at her with a smirk before stepping out into the hallway.
“I’m going to freshen up,” he called over his shoulder, leaving Yuzuki alone with her thoughts—and the lingering mystery of the boy in black.
Yuzuki slipped quietly back down the stairs, plate in hand, careful to listen for any sounds from the living room. She paused, ensuring the door was closed and Kaito’s mother was still occupied in the kitchen. Satisfied, she darted inside, where she found his mother arranging serving dishes on the counter.
Without a word, Yuzuki quickly washed her plate, the sound of running water blending with the gentle clatter of lunch preparations. She then helped set the table, carrying bowls and chopsticks to the living room, working in silent coordination with Kaito’s mother.
Once everything was ready, the family gathered around the low table. The rain continued to drum against the windows, the world outside still a curtain of gray.
As they settled in, the shoji door slid open and Kaito entered, hair still damp from freshening up. Yuzuki and his father glanced up at the same time, catching Kaito’s eye. For a brief moment, Kaito locked eyes with his father and gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. Yuzuki noticed the silent exchange, her curiosity piqued. His father’s shoulders seemed to tense as he turned back to the table, letting out a quiet sigh.
What’s with that reaction? Yuzuki wondered, her gaze lingering on the two as Kaito took his seat beside his father.
Two days slipped by in a blur of rain-soaked afternoons and warm, bustling family life. Each night, as the house quieted, Kaito and his father would disappear into the storm, only to return by morning—leaving Yuzuki with more questions than answers.The heavy downpour gradually eased on the second day, sunlight finally breaking through the clouds in pale, hesitant beams.
With the weather finally manageable, Yuzuki prepared to leave. She neatly folded the borrowed clothes, tucked them in her bag alongside her freshly washed uniform—carefully laundered by Kaito’s mother—and selected one of the family’s umbrellas from the stand by the door.
Standing in the entryway, Yuzuki bowed deeply, gratitude evident in her posture. “Thank you for everything. I’ll return the umbrella and the clothes soon—and I’ll make sure to repay your kindness,” she promised, her voice warm with sincerity.
Kaito’s mother smiled, waving off her thanks. “No rush, Yuzuki-chan. Take care on your way home.”
With one last bow, Yuzuki stepped out into the damp, refreshed world, the umbrella shielding her from the lingering drizzle, and the memory of those two days—full of warmth, mystery, and new bonds—lingering with her as she made her way home.
To be Continued...
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