●・○・●・○・●
CHAPTER THREE,
like father, like son, and son

—

༇ IT'S Kaoru's first day of elementary school.

Baya is crying before breakfast. "I just... he was a baby yesterday," she sniffles. "He used to say 'banilla' instead of 'vanilla' and now he's leaving me for society."

Kaoru sits at the table, fully dressed and motionless. His new uniform is crisp. His collar is crooked. Chishiya adjusts it without a word and slicks back a stray bit of Kaoru's hair.

Usagi is trying to take pictures. Kaede keeps jumping into the frame. Hana walks by and says, "Try not to cry in front of the other six-year-olds, okay?"

"I'm seven!" Kaoru shouts.

"Same thing."

"It is not!"

Chishiya crouches in front of Kaoru. "You packed the pencils I gave you?"

Kaoru nods.

"And your calculator?"

"I don't need a calculator for first grade."

"You'll need it eventually."

"I got it."

"Ask your teacher if she knows what fasciculation is."

Kaoru nods.

Baya hugs him next. Too tightly. For too long. "If anyone bullies you, just scream and fake a seizure."

Kaoru gives her a horrified look.

Eventually, it's time. Chishiya drives them. Baya sits in the front, sobbing quietly into her sleeve while trying to hold the phone steady for photos.

Kaoru stares out the window, clutching the straps of his backpack. "Can I sit alone at lunch?"

"Yes."

Baya turns in her seat. "No!"

"Don't listen to her," Chishiya says.

Baya scowls. "You're going to turn him into a mini-you."

"He was born like that."

Kaoru smiles faintly.

When they pull up to the school, Kaoru steps out slowly. He looks smaller suddenly. Braver, but also a little glassy-eyed. He turns back to face them.

Chishiya gives him a nod. Just a small one. Just enough. Kaoru nods back. Then walks into the building without looking back.

Baya bursts into fresh tears. "He's gone! My baby! My—"

Chishiya coughs.

Baya turns to him. "Say something supportive!"

"If he gets detention, I'll be proud."

She hits him with her bag.

●・○・●・○・●

The second the front door clicks open, Kaoru explodes. "I'm home!"

Baya, who's in the kitchen putting yogurt into a bowl, nearly drops it. "Hi, baby! How was—"

"Itwasthebestdayofmyentirelife!"

He throws his backpack on the floor and tears into the living room with shoes half off, hair sticking out in a dozen directions, and cheeks flushed pink. Baya turns fully around, but before she can say anything else—

"There were so many kids! Like more than in the park! There was one kid with green shoes and one with a hat with spikes, and I wanted to touch it but I didn't because I remembered personal space! And my classroom smells like pencils and jelly and also kind of like glue but the nice kind, not the yucky kind, and I got to pick a chair!"

Baya just blinks.

"Mine is red and it's the good red, not the dark red but the shiny one! It matches my water bottle."

"Did you make any friends?" Baya tries gently.

"Yes! There's a boy named Sora and he can wiggle his ears. Like both of them! And a girl named Mimi who has bangs like Hana but shorter and she let me use her pink crayon because mine broke in half! And then I told her her hair looked like soft broccoli and she said thank you and gave me a sticker." He holds out his hand. There's a puffy heart sticker on it.

Chishiya appears in the hallway. "Did you eat your lunch?" he asks calmly.

"Yes but also no because I ate mine and then I traded my cookie for a cheese stick and then the cheese stick rolled off the table so I gave it to a boy named Kenny and then he gave me a raisin. Just one. It was a really good raisin. It had vibes."

"Vibes?" Chishiya echoes.

Kaoru nods solemnly, eyes wide.

Baya sets the yogurt down and crouches beside him, trying to keep up. "Did anything bad happen?"

"Well," Kaoru says, looking serious, "I got a teeny tiny papercut when I tried to fold my picture into a star. But then the teacher gave me a band aid with a smiling tomato on it and she said I was very brave and I didn't cry, not even a little. And then—oh my gosh—I sharpened my pencil! By myself. With a real sharpener. Like a twisty one. It was beautiful. It made that sound? That shh-shh sound? It was like music."

Chishiya watches him with mild concern. "Do you need to sit down?"

"I can't! I'm not done!" Kaoru twirls. "We got to go outside and there was this game where you run and then freeze when the music stops and I accidentally fell on the grass but it was funny and I wasn't hurt and also there were ants! So many ants! One tried to climb my shoe but I said, 'Not today, sir,' and it left. I think I speak ant now."

"And there's a fish tank in the hallway. Did you know that? With actual swimming fish. They have names. I forgot all of them except one is called Banana. And there was a poster with the alphabet but it had animals for the letters and Q was a quokka. I thought that was made-up but it's real. I want a quokka now."

Chishiya slowly walks over to Baya, reaches down, and gently puts a hand on her shoulder. "This is how I've been feeling ever since I met you."

Kaoru, now sprawled on the rug, is still talking. "There's a bell. When recess ends. It goes ding-dong-ding! Like a song. And I thought maybe I was dreaming but I pinched myself and I wasn't, so it was real. And I got a star sticker because I helped pick up crayons when they fell and the teacher said I was a gentleman and I think that means I'm fancy now. Should I wear a tie tomorrow?"

"If you want to."

Kaoru crawls over to Baya and drops his head in her lap. "Mama. Mama. I'm gonna go back tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that forever."

"Baby," Baya breathes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm better than okay. I'm educated!"

He is asleep exactly three minutes later, facedown in the laundry pile, still wearing one sock.

●・○・●・○・●

Baya is out getting groceries, which is the first mistake. Leaving Chishiya unsupervised for more than twenty minutes is proven to end in chaos. Kaoru is supposed to be doing a science project.

Chishiya pokes his head into the kitchen. "How's the project going?"

Kaoru looks up from a tangle of wires. "We're building a small engine."

Hana nods proudly. "It was Kaoru's idea. I just wanted to make slime but this is better."

Chishiya eyes the setup. "You shouldn't be using that kind of tubing. It'll melt."

Kaoru frowns. "Really?"

Chishiya is already walking away. "I'll get the right one."

Ten minutes later, the kitchen table has been converted into a lab. The stove is involved. Hana is wearing goggles. Chishiya is wearing his reading glasses.

"I still think we should name it," Hana says.

"Name what?" Kaoru asks.

"The invention. Before it becomes famous."

Chishiya shrugs. "It'll only be famous if it works."

"Or if it explodes," Kaoru adds.

And then, predictably, it explodes.

Not a huge explosion, but definitely enough to leave a black mark on the ceiling.

The table flips. The wires roll. Hana screams with excitement. Kaoru coughs. Chishiya just stands there blinking, a smudge of black on his cheek, calmly holding what remains of the tubing.

The silence after is heavy.

Then Chishiya clears his throat. "We may have slightly overestimated the pressure tolerance."

"That was amazing," Hana breathes, eyes wide. "We're geniuses."

Kaoru high fives her. "Worth it."

"We should probably fix this before your mother gets home."

The front door opens.

"Hi, I'm back—why does it smell like... what the—"

Baya stands frozen in the doorway, staring at the wreckage.

Chishiya gives her a small, sheepish wave.

"It was for science," he says.

"You blew up my kitchen."

"Only part of it."

She drops the grocery bags. "What exactly were you doing?"

Chishiya looks at the kids. Kaoru shrugs. Hana beams. "Building a car engine!"

"Without a car?!"

"We forgot that part."

Baya covers her face.

Cinnamon hops in, sniffs the smoke, and leaves again.

Chishiya gestures to the open window. "Ventilation is good, though."

"Clean. All. Of. It." Baya hisses.

"Yes, ma'am."

"And no more explosions in the house!"

"Define—"

"Shuntarō."

"Got it."

He grabs a mop. Kaoru grabs the broom. Hana picks up the wires.

●・○・●・○・●

The next Sunday, it starts with a seemingly innocent question over breakfast.

"Mommy," Hana says. "Would you be mad if we made something glow?"

Baya, still half asleep, squints at her. "Glow?"

"Glow like bioluminescence," Kaoru clarifies.

Chishiya, across the table and suspiciously quiet, lifts his teacup to hide a grin.

Baya narrows her eyes. "What are you three doing?"

"Nothing illegal."

"Hana," Baya says slowly. "What exactly do you want to make glow?"

There's a beat of silence. Then: "Kui's goldfish."

Baya chokes on her coffee. "Tamagotchi?!"

Hana nods enthusiastically. "But only a little! Just enough to see him at night!"

Kaoru tilts the tablet to show her a detailed diagram. "It's perfectly safe. It's been done before. We're just recreating history."

"In our bathtub?"

"We sterilized everything," Chishiya says. "The fish is in a controlled environment with UV-safe lights and a monitored—"

"You helped them?!"

"I merely supervised. And provided the—"

"Do not say genetic material."

"—equipment."

Baya groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Where did you even get a CRISPR kit?"

Chishiya takes another sip of tea. "Have a guess."

"I don't want to."

"It's very... close to you. Might hit hard," he hints.

She stares at him.

He stares back.

"Papa bought from the black market," Hana blurts out.

"Technically," Kaoru chimes in, "he traded for it with a dealer who owed him a favor."

Baya sighs so hard she might collapse. Later that night, she tiptoes into the bathroom, peeks at the tub, and yelps.

Tamagotchi the goldfish floats gently in the water, glowing green.

She closes the door slowly.

Next morning, she walks into the kitchen, grabs Chishiya's tea, and says, "We're buying blackout curtains for the bathroom."

"Success?"

She glares. "I hate how proud you are."

"You knew what you married."

"I married a surgeon."

Kaoru lifts his head. "Speaking of the wedding—"

"Kaoru," Chishiya warns.

"Remember when you—"

"Kaoru."

"But it was so—"

"You were too young to even remember it."

"It's in the picture book," he points out.

"I thought I burned the picture book," Chishiya mutters.

Kaoru comes back with the book three seconds later.

"There it is," he peeps, slapping a hand to the page. "The moment. Look at this, Mama."

Baya leans over and peers at the photo: a zoomed-in shot of Chishiya mid fall, eyes unfocused, jaw slack, with a horrified priest lunging to catch him. In the background, Arisu can be seen clutching his own face.

"He collapsed!" Kaoru bursts out laughing.

"I did not collapse," Chishiya says. "I experienced a temporary lapse in equilibrium. Caused by—"

"Caused by Mama in a wedding dress," Kaoru interrupts. "You saw her and you fainted."

"She was very radiant," Chishiya admits flatly.

Kaoru flips to the next page, where Chishiya is now seated in a chair. "Look at this!"

"I was overheated."

"It was May. Inside."

"I hadn't eaten enough."

"You had three pancakes on the way to the altar!"

"Your mother's smile is disarming. It compromises neural regulation."

"He's trying to science his way out of fainting at his own wedding. You were smitten! You saw her walking down the aisle and your internal organs just—" He makes a dramatic explosion noise and falls backward onto the couch. "Catastrophic system failure."

Chishiya crosses his arms. "I was perfectly composed for the rest of the ceremony."

Baya shrugs. "You said 'I do' while still clutching an ice pack."

Kaoru whips out Baya's phone. "Wait. Wait. I have the video—"

"Kaoru."

"—you do this thing with your mouth before you faint, like—" Kaoru stretches his lips out, imitating the exact way Chishiya blinked at the altar.

"No."

Kaoru plays the video.

"Do you, Shuntarō Chishiya, take—"
THUD.
Gasps.
"OH MY GOD—"
"Arisu, help me lift him!"
"Is he dead?!"
"He fainted."
"No I didn't," Chishiya mutters faintly from the floor in the video.

"You can't lie to us," Kaoru says. "You fainted. You love-fainted."

"I hate this family. I've been shot, stabbed, drugged, and electrocuted in my lifetime—"

"And yet," Kaoru says, already clicking replay, "a wedding dress took you out."

"You're grounded."

Kaoru shrugs.

●・○・●・○・●

Dinner is lazy and warm. The kids eat while Baya picks at leftovers, and Chishiya is watching them. Hana hums a little song between bites of rice. Her cheeks are still flushed from playing outside all afternoon, and her socks are mismatched again.

"Mama?" she chirps sweetly. "Can I have a sleepover at Kaede's tomorrow? He asked me today! He said I can bring my flashlight, and we can draw dinosaurs, and maybe sleep in his fort. Ari and Usa said it's okay!"

Baya lights up instantly. "Wait, your first sleepover?" She sits up straighter. "That's adorable. Of course you can—"

A loud cough slices through the room.

"You good?" Baya asks.

"Mm," Chishiya hums. "Just processing."

Hana turns to him. "Kaede said I can sleep in his bed if I get scared!"

"Sleep in his bed," he echoes.

"Yeah!" Hana nods. "He has dinosaur blankets and a nightlight shaped like an octopus!"

Baya gently clears her throat. "It's not a big deal, Shuntarō. They're both six. It's innocent."

"He's a boy," he says flatly.

"And?"

"She's not."

"Oh for—" Baya throws a hand in the air. "They still think kissing means wiping butter on someone's face. Relax."

"He stole Kaoru's name," Chishiya says, as if Baya's forgotten the crime of the century.

"His parents named him that independently."

"And Arisu knew our son is named Kaoru," Chishiya adds.

Hana tugs Baya's sleeve, pouty. "But he asked really nice, and Ari already said yes..."

"Arisu is not a reliable source of judgment," Chishiya snaps.

"That's your personal problem with Arisu. Not a reason Hana can't go to a sleepover."

"He lets his son eat gummies out of his pocket."

"I've eaten candy out of your coat."

"That's different. I'm clean. I'm just saying," Chishiya continues, "if our daughter is going to sleep in another family's house—"

"She'll be next door."

"—where the father games all day, and the son has already copied our child's name—"

Kaoru groans. "Please let this go."

"—then I'd like some oversight."

"Like what, a drone?" Baya mutters.

Chishiya raises an eyebrow. "Can we get one?"

"No."

Hana's eyes are full of tears now. "You said you liked Kaede..."

"I said I liked his mother." He pauses. "She has restraint."

"Papa!"

"He's gonna try to show you his lizard collection and then forget to feed you. Or accidentally set fire to a pillow. And then I have to storm over."

"You're being insane," Baya says.

"I'm being realistic."

"Please," Hana begs. "Just one night!"

Chishiya stares at her for a long, silent moment.

Then sighs. "No sleeping. I pick you up at nine. The second he mentions insects or asks if you want to 'see something cool,' you call us."

"Yay!" Hana squeals, already halfway to her room to pack.

●・○・●・○・●

Hana arrives at Kaede's house with her favorite backpack, her flashlight, and exactly one stuffed animal: Mr. Octo. She feels excited, nervous, and a little bit like a grown-up. Arisu greets her at the door with his usual sleepy smile and an apron covered in tomato sauce.

Kaede is already waiting at the top of the stairs. "Come on! I have so much to show you!"

Hana grins and follows him.

"I got a new one yesterday!" Kaede says. "She's orange and has these weird eyeballs that look two different ways."

"Like you after spinning in circles?"

"Yeah! But cooler."

They reach Kaede's room. It's a mess of comic books, plastic swords, and crumbs. The walls are covered in stars and crayon scribbles.

Lining the entire window shelf and part of the desk are tanks. Tanks full of dirt and animals.

"This is Speedy," Kaede says, pointing at a lizard with a blue tail. "And that's Sir Bite. He only bit me once."

Hana freezes. One blinks. Another flicks its tongue. One climbs vertically up the glass.

Kaede beams. "Wanna hold one?"

"Um..." Hana hugs Mr. Octo a little tighter. "Maybe later."

Kaede shrugs and pulls open the top of one of the tanks anyway. "This one's the coolest. She eats live crickets. Wanna see?"

Hana takes a step back. "I think I'm good."

Kaede is already tossing a cricket in.

The lizard snaps it up instantly.

She squeals. "Eww! It crunched!"

"That's why she's my favorite. Her name's Killer."

He crouches by the crate in the corner and peels back the lid. Inside is something with scales, a long tail, and the thickest legs she's ever seen on a lizard. It blinks once.

Hana feels her stomach twist.

"I call him Godzilla," Kaede says proudly. "He pooped on Papa last week! Wanna feed him? He eats worms!"

"NO... um, I mean, I don't think Mr. Octo likes worms."

Kaede gives her a confused look.

"I'm gonna go ask Ari something real quick," Hana blurts, and hurries down the stairs.

She finds Arisu in the kitchen humming to himself while stirring pasta sauce.

"Excuse me," she says sweetly. "Can I borrow your phone?"

Arisu tilts his head. "Everything okay?"

Hana nods, gripping Mr. Octo. "I just need to call Papa. I forgot something. Super important. Very sciencey."

Arisu chuckles and hands her the phone.

Hana dials fast.

Chishiya picks up immediately. "What did he do," he says.

"He has like twenty lizards and they crunch bugs and one blinked at me sideways and one is named Killer and another one pooped on Ari," Hana blurts in one breath. "Also I think he wanted me to touch a worm. Please come get me."

●・○・●・○・●

Kaoru bursts through the front door after school, his backpack bouncing behind him, and he's practically glowing.

"I got second place!" he shouts, not even bothering to take off his shoes. "Second place!"

He runs straight into the kitchen where Baya is washing dishes and slams a piece of laminated paper onto the counter. It's a certificate with his name on it in bold lettering—Kaoru Chishiya, Second Place, Math Contest—surrounded by numbers.

Baya turns, startled by the sudden noise, and then beams. "Second place?!"

"Second!" Kaoru pants, breathless with joy. "Out of one hundred people! They gave me this!" He proudly holds up a sealed plastic case.

Baya tilts her head, already smiling, but the second her eyes land on the contents of the case, her smile twitches.

Inside is a black and red playing deck. A small gold sticker labels it: 'Limited Edition Gift Deck.'

Baya's hands freeze. Her mouth opens, but no words come out.

Kaoru doesn't notice. He's too excited. "They said the top five got prizes! First place got a board game. I got this! Look! It's got cool symbols—clubs and spades and diamonds. I think the queen's got a sword!"

Baya slowly sets down the dish she was holding. The sound of water dripping from her fingers echoes louder than it should. She tries to stay steady.

Chishiya is sitting on the couch, reading. When Kaoru holds out the gift, the pride radiating off him in waves, Chishiya doesn't look up right away.

Then his eyes land on the deck.

Silence. Heavy. Ice-cold. Immediate. His whole face darkens in a way Kaoru has never seen. He doesn't say a word. Doesn't blink. He just stares at the cards for a second too long.

Kaoru blinks, confused. "It's a prize. For math. I won it because I got second place."

"Give it to me."

"What? No, it's my—"

"Give it to me, Kaoru."

Kaoru clutches them. "Why?"

With a swift, almost mechanical motion, he rips the deck out of Kaoru's hands. The boy gasps, stumbling back a step.

"Hey!"

Chishiya turns and walks into the kitchen. The plastic still sealed. The cards untouched. He lifts the trash can lid.

"Papa!" Kaoru shrieks.

Chishiya drops the deck into the garbage. The lid slams shut.

For a second, the silence is total. Kaoru's lip trembles. His small hands are clenched into fists, eyes wide. "Why would you do that?!" His voice cracks as he throws himself forward, grabbing at the trash can.

"Kaoru—" Baya tries.

"It was mine!" Kaoru wails. "I worked so hard! I studied. I wanted to win something, and I did!"

Chishiya doesn't flinch. "You don't need those."

Kaoru screams. "You didn't even ask!"

He tries to open the trash lid, but it's weighted. He kicks the can. The cards rattle against banana peels. "Why would you do that?!" Kaoru cries.

Baya stands frozen, hand gripping the counter. Her breath comes fast, eyes locked on the can. She's not looking at Kaoru. Not looking at Chishiya. Just... at the box.

"Don't ever bring those things home again," Chishiya says.

Kaoru's face twists. "They're cards!"

Baya flinches at the word.

Chishiya steps forward, as if to block Kaoru from going back to the trash, but Kaoru darts around him, grabs the cards, and hugs them to his chest.

"Don't touch it again!" he snaps. "You can't just throw my stuff away like that!"

Chishiya reaches out, but Kaoru whips around, trying to twist away, and the two of them briefly struggle in the middle of the kitchen.

Chishiya looks down at the trembling boy in front of him. He grabs a single card.

Kaoru freezes. "No."

He watches Chishiya slowly raise the card between two fingers.

"No, no, don't."

The card bends. Then tears. Clean down the middle.

A strangled scream rips from Kaoru's throat. "No!!"

Another card. Chishiya doesn't hesitate this time. He tears it fast. Then another. And another. The ripping sound repeats. Kaoru sobs as he fights harder, slamming his fists into Chishiya's arms, his chest, grabbing handfuls of his shirt. "Stop! Please! Those were mine!"

"Not in this house."

Kaoru's face crumples as Chishiya pulls another card from the box. "You're crazy! I wish you weren't my dad— I wish it!"

Chishiya hesitates only a fraction. Then tears another.

Kaoru throws himself against him with all his strength, pounding, kicking, shaking. "I hate you!"

Baya rushes forward, grabbing Kaoru and trying to pull him back, but the boy is fighting both of them now. Chishiya holds up the final card.

It's the Jack of Hearts. Kaoru chokes on his own breath. "No, no please not that one! Please, that's the one I liked, please—"

But Chishiya's fingers press down.

And this one he rips slowly. Deliberately. The paper splits apart with a soft whisper of sound. Two halves fall down.

Kaoru lets out a broken, animal cry and collapses to the floor. "You never tell me anything good—I do something right and you ruin it—and you didn't even say congratulations!"

Baya kneels beside him in an instant, gathering his shaking body into her arms. "It's okay, it's okay, baby. We'll talk it out. We'll explain—"

"He doesn't want me to have anything! He's just like his own papa!"

The words hit like a slap. Chishiya stands frozen, fists clenched at his sides, surrounded by torn bits of card scattered like petals around his feet.

"Why do you know about that?"

"I asked Mama about my grandparents and she told me a bit about all of them. She said your papa was mean. Now you're mean."

Chishiya doesn't say another word. He doesn't apologize.

Baya holds Kaoru tighter as his sobs begin to fade into hiccups, his face buried in her shoulder. She rocks him gently on the kitchen floor.

She doesn't look at Chishiya until Kaoru finally quiets. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Chishiya doesn't respond. His gaze stays locked on the floor.

"I asked you a question." Her voice sharpens. "He's a kid, Chishiya. He came home proud of himself. Do you understand what you just did?"

Still nothing.

"I understand. They scare me, too. But there are other ways you could've handled this. You didn't even see him. You didn't say 'good job,' or 'I'm proud of you.' You just... destroyed something that made him happy."

Chishiya's eyes flick to the floor again.

"You're just like your father." The words come out before she can stop them.

Chishiya looks at her now. Really looks. His face is pale.

She looks shocked. "No, no— wait. I didn't mean that. No—"

Then Chishiya turns on his heel and walks out. Baya doesn't follow. She stays with Kaoru on the floor, whispering to him until his breathing evens and his grip loosens. She rocks him slowly, staring at the cards scattered around the kitchen.

And upstairs, Chishiya sinks to the floor of his office, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.

●・○・●・○・●

The walls of the study were lined with shelves, each full with thick medical books. The desk in the center was spotless.

Nine-year-old Shuntarō Chishiya stood in front of it, clutching the certificate with both hands.

"Second place," his father repeated slowly, as if tasting something unpleasant on his tongue.

Shuntarō nodded. "There were two thousand kids competing. I got 97. Only one person got higher than me."

His father simply set his pen down beside his notes and laced his fingers together. He leaned back in his chair. Observing.

"Is this pride I see on your face?"

Shuntarō blinked. "I worked really hard."

"That's the problem." His father tilted his head. "You're happy with it. With being less than someone else."

"I tried my best."

"If your best still makes you inferior," he said, "then it means your best is worthless."

Shuntarō looked down, gripping the certificate tighter.

"You've always misunderstood the purpose of achievement." He rose from his chair. "Achievement is not for praise. It is not for celebration. It is the bare minimum requirement to exist in this house with dignity. You don't get rewarded for doing what's expected of you."

He stopped behind the boy. Shuntarō could feel the man's presence, cold and looming.

"Pride is for the weak. For people who need affirmation. Do you need affirmation, Shuntarō?"

"His voice cracked. "No."

"Do you want me to lie to you and pretend this is impressive? That you're special?"

"No."

"Good," his father said calmly. "Because you're not. You're intelligent, yes. But so is the rest of the world. If you think being clever makes you valuable, you will live a very humiliating life."

He sat back down. There was silence. Then: "Put the certificate in the trash."

Shuntaro hesitated.

"Did you not hear me?"

"I wanted to keep it—"

"You want to frame your failure?"

His father sighed. Not in anger. In disappointment. He opened a drawer, took out a small, black leather notebook. He flipped it open and made a mark.

"That's three now," he murmured. "Three times you've chosen self pity over self awareness."

Shuntarō's heart dropped. He knew that notebook. It wasn't for tracking chores or homework. It was for tracking flaws.

He once peeked inside when he was six. There were whole pages with nothing but the word 'needy' written over and over in different shades of ink. The next day, his favorite toy was gone. No explanation. Just gone.

●・○・●・○・●

"Do you know why I called you here?"

Shuntarō shook his head, just once.

His father placed his pen down and folded his hands together. "I received a call today from your music teacher. She said you've been quiet."

The boy said nothing.

His father rose, slow and precise, the way he always did—like a man practicing control in every motion. He walked to the liquor cabinet and poured a glass of something dark, then turned back to face his son.

"Shuntarō. Do you know what love is?"

The boy blinked. The question was a trap. They always were. "No, sir."

"Good. You shouldn't." He took a sip. "People who understand love early become emotionally inefficient. They waste energy on connections they cannot control. Weakness disguised as warmth."

He stepped closer.

"One day, someone will tell you they love you. It will happen. People are easily drawn to brilliance, and you... you have the curse of intelligence. They will find that beautiful. When they say they love you, do you know what you should do?"

"No, sir."

"You listen," his father said, "then smile faintly, and say, 'Thank you.' You do not say it back unless you want to make them your slave. And even then, sparingly."

He set the glass down beside a stack of journals and approached, stopping directly in front of the boy.

"You may crave love. You may even begin to believe you deserve it. But you don't. Love, in this house, is earned through excellence. Absolute, consistent excellence." He crouched, leveling his eyes with the boy's. "And even then, I won't love you as a man."

"Yes, sir."

"You want me to love you, don't you?"

"Yes."

"You want me to say I'm proud of you?"

"Yes."

His father nodded, as if confirming a theory. Then leaned in, voice lowering to a whisper. "Then make me. Make me so proud I can't ignore you. Break yourself becoming exceptional. And maybe, maybe then, I'll feel something."

●・○・●・○・●

The dinner is silent. Chopsticks tapping softly against porcelain bowls.

His father chews methodically, sets his chopsticks down, and dabs his lips with a folded napkin. "I've been thinking of a test."

Shuntarō pauses mid-bite.

"Put your chopsticks down."

He obeys.

His father stands and walks to the closet. He returns with a small, plain box. He places it on the table between them and sits.

Inside the box is a small silver bell.

"I'm going to ring this bell once," his father says. "When I do, you will raise your right hand. That's all."

Shuntarō stares at him.

His father lifts the bell. The soft ting of it slices through the quiet. Shuntaro raises his hand.

His father nods once. Rings it again.

Shuntarō raises it again.

Again. And again.

Then he rings it, and says, "Left hand."

Shuntarō hesitates.

"Left hand," his father repeats, flatly.

Shuntarō lifts his left.

Ding. "Right."

He switches.

Ding. "Left."

Again.

Ding. "Don't move."

He freezes.

This continues for minutes. More than ten.

No rhythm, just the bell and the voice.

At one point, his father says nothing after the bell and waits.

Shuntarō looks at him, uncertain.

"You failed," his father says.

"I didn't know which—"

"That was the test. Obedience in absence of instruction. That is the mark of discipline."

Shuntarō says nothing.

"You were waiting for rules," his father continues. "That's a weakness. You assume the world is fair enough to give you instructions."

He nods slowly.

"If you ever have children—God help them—you will be tempted to hug them. Don't. They will rot from the inside. Let them fear you. Let them hate you. One day," he says, "someone will ask you why you don't cry. Why you don't laugh. Why you don't feel." He smiles faintly. "You tell them this: My father loved me so much, he didn't let me."

There's no air in the room. Just the echo of that bell, still ringing in Shuntaro's mind.

●・○・●・○・●

"Repeat it," his father says.

"...I'm not anyone's."

"Louder."

"I'm not anyone's."

"Again."

"I'm not anyone's."

"Good."

●・○・●・○・●

He is fourteen when his father calls him finished.

It is not a compliment.

"Do you know what I mean?" the man asks.

Shuntarō nods.

"Say it."

"I'm no longer in need of development."

"Correct."

His father sets the pen down. He finally looks at him. His eyes are not warm. Not cruel. Just... bored.

"You've stopped feeling," the man says. "I can see it."

Shuntarō doesn't speak.

His father gestures to the door. "There's nothing more I can teach you, unless you fail. Go prove that you won't."

He nods once, then turns to leave.

He doesn't sleep that night. It isn't anxiety. It isn't sadness. It isn't even restlessness. It's emptiness.

He lies in bed, staring at the ceiling, hearing his own breath and wondering if he'd notice if it stopped.

The next day, he walks into the woods. He finds a rabbit.

It stares up at him.

Shuntarō kneels beside it. Watches it twitch. Breath quick. Ears alert.

He picks it up.

It flinches, but he holds it firm.

He breaks its neck.

He waits.

One second. Five. Ten.

No rush of guilt. No sickness. No horror.

Nothing.

He looks at the limp body in his hands and feels exactly as he did before.

Empty. Calm. Neutral.

He lets the rabbit fall to the dirt. The impact is dull.

He wanted to test if he'd feel something.

He didn't.

●・○・●・○・●

Cinnamon hops into the room.

Chishiya doesn't even blink.

She sniffs once, then again, and hops closer. Her little body is warm, and her ears wiggle with interest as she approaches the man on the floor.

Chishiya sighs when she bumps his leg. Cinnamon, unbothered, places her paws on his shin and stares up at him.

He stares back, unimpressed.

"I'm not your heat pad."

Cinnamon climbs directly onto his lap.

Chishiya tenses. For a moment, he actually considers pushing her off. The little twitch in his jaw suggests he's on the verge of it.

He sighs again and tilts his head back against the bed. Cinnamon shifts and then settles. Chishiya mutters, "Fat little cretin."

But his hand moves without thinking. One slow stroke between her ears. Another. She makes a pleased little sniff.

Eventually, he stops thinking. He lifts her in his arms and moves onto the bed.

He lies back. Pulls the blanket half-over himself. Cinnamon rests neatly on his chest. His arm curls protectively around her without him noticing.

That's how Hana finds them. She pushes the bedroom door open.

"Papa?" she whispers.

He's asleep. His hair a mess, mouth parted slightly. Cinnamon tucked against his chin. The softest expression she's ever seen on his face.

She tiptoes across the room, climbs onto the bed, and wriggles herself right on top of her father, her head resting on his shoulder.

Baya stands at the door moments later, her hand gently resting on the frame. She sees all three—her husband, her daughter, the bunny—and feels something press hard against her heart.

A lump in her throat. A small smile. Then she turns and walks down the hall. Kaoru's door is still cracked open. She knocks once, then lets herself in.

Kaoru is curled up on the bed, awake, stiff, clutching his pillow.

"Cinnamon's on your dad's chest," she says gently. "Hana climbed on top of him too. It's kind of ridiculous. We're gonna run out of room if you wait too long. You could come join us."

"I don't want to."

"Okay," she whispers. "That's okay. I just thought you might want to be with your family."

"He's not my family."

Baya pauses. That one cuts. But she nods slowly, even though he can't see it. "Okay." And for the rest of the night, she stays with him.

●・○・●・○・●

The sun is already up when Chishiya wakes. His neck aches. His arm is asleep. There's a rabbit pressed firmly to his ribcage and a child sprawled half on top of his chest, drooling into his hoodie.

For a few seconds, he just lies there, letting his eyes adjust. Hana murmurs in her sleep, twitching slightly, then curls closer, burying her face into the space between his neck and shoulder. Cinnamon shifts too, thumping a soft foot against his stomach.

Last night feels like another lifetime. One made of ghosts and the kind of memories that hollow you out from the inside. But now there's a child breathing against his collarbone and a stupid fat bunny treating him like a mattress.

Chishiya shifts. Gently peels Hana off his chest and sits up, rubbing his face with one hand.

Kaoru is already in the kitchen, standing on his tiptoes, trying to reach a bowl.

"I'll get that," Chishiya says softly.

Kaoru doesn't turn around.

Chishiya steps forward anyway, takes the bowl down, sets it on the counter. "You want cereal?"

No answer.

"Kaoru," he says, quieter. "Can I talk to you?"

Still nothing. The boy's hands are shaking slightly as he pours milk, but he doesn't stop.

"I'm sorry," Chishiya says. "Can we—"

He grabs his bowl and storms off without looking back.

Chishiya watches him go, the sound of retreating footsteps echoing down the hall.

He doesn't follow.

Behind him, Hana yawns loudly from the hallway. She's dragging Cinnamon by the armpits.

"I think Cinnamon peed a little in the bed," she announces.

Chishiya blinks, torn abruptly from his thoughts. "Did she?"

"Not on me," Hana says, cheerfully dropping the rabbit to the floor. "Just next to you."

He sighs. Deeply.

"I was gonna make Kaoru some toast," Hana adds. "But he won't talk to me. He just told me to go away." She looks up at him, squinting slightly. "Is Kaoru mad?"

"I hurt him."

Hana stares.

"But you didn't hit him."

"No." He straightens.

She frowns. "Then how did you hurt him?"

He doesn't answer. Instead, he walks to the pantry, pulls out the bread, and puts two slices in the toaster. The act feels almost offensive. Like it shouldn't be allowed after what he did.

"Sometimes, words and actions hurt more than bruises."

Hana doesn't fully understand. She's five. Her idea of pain still revolves around scraped knees and stomach aches and sharing toys she doesn't want to share.

But she watches him in that way children do. And then she climbs onto one of the kitchen chairs and props her chin on her hands. "Mommy says people who don't know how to say sorry with their hearts end up lonely."

Chishiya pauses. The toaster clicks. He doesn't move to grab the toast.

"She also said you were trying," Hana adds. "Even if you suck at it."

That earns the faintest twitch of his mouth.

"She didn't say suck. That part was me."

"Of course it was."

They sit in silence for a while. Cinnamon hops over and headbutts his shin, as if to remind him that animals, at least, forgive easily.

Hana sighs dramatically and says, "Do you want me to give Kaoru your toast and say it's from you?"

"Will he eat it if it's from me?"

"Probably not. But I'll guilt him into it."

He considers that. Nods once. "Alright."

She hops off the chair, grabs the plate, and marches down the hallway. Chishiya listens to her footsteps fade and closes his eyes.

He doesn't expect Kaoru to forgive him today. Maybe not tomorrow. Maybe not ever.

He opens his eyes. Cinnamon's still staring at him. He exhales slowly. "Don't look at me like that."

The bunny doesn't blink.

"Fine," he mutters, and scoops her up again.

●・○・●・○・●

The days that follow are no different. Kaoru talks to Baya. He talks to Hana. He talks to Cinnamon. But Chishiya? Nothing.

He doesn't respond when Chishiya picks him up from school. Doesn't say thank you when he gets a snack. Doesn't reply when Chishiya says goodnight.

The silent treatment is pure. Chishiya might've laughed at how thorough it is, if it didn't hurt so much.

On Friday comes real rebellion.

Kaoru bursts through the door that afternoon wearing the same victorious grin he had two weeks ago.

Only this time, he doesn't shout. He calmly removes his shoes. Hangs up his backpack. Walks into the kitchen where Baya is flipping pancakes for dinner.

And then he unloads ten different playing card decks from a plastic shopping bag.

Each one new. Colorful. Flashy. Cartoon kings, sparkly jokers.

He lines them up very neatly on the kitchen counter. One by one. Like weapons. Or trophies. Or warnings.

Baya stares, spatula paused mid-air.

Kaoru doesn't say anything.

Just smiles. After all, he is his father's son.

●・○・●・○・●

The campaign begins small.

Saturday morning, Chishiya finds a card taped to his toothbrush.

Sunday, there's a joker inside his coat pocket.

Monday, he pulls back the bedsheets and finds a full deck laid out.

By Wednesday, Kaoru has constructed a card tower in the hallway.

It's blocking the bathroom.

Baya asks him sweetly to move it.

Kaoru shrugs and says, "It's for my math project."

●・○・●・○・●

Kaoru enters the living room, arms behind his back, face innocent.

He stands in front of Chishiya, who's sitting on the couch reading.

Without a word, Kaoru holds out a card.

Chishiya doesn't take it.

Kaoru just stands there.

And stands.

And stands.

Finally, Chishiya lowers the book.

"What is it?"

Kaoru doesn't answer.

He just steps forward and pushes the card into Chishiya's hand.

The second Chishiya touches it, Kaoru drops a full deck in his lap like confetti and yells, "Boom! Now you touched them! You broke your own rule!"

Chishiya looks down at the pile. Then at his son.

Kaoru's face is smug. "You can't un-touch them now," he adds. "You've been infected."

"Kaoru—" Baya starts.

Kaoru cuts her off. "He started it! He ruined my prize, so now I get to ruin his peace! That's fair!"

"You're being petty," Chishiya says calmly, brushing the cards off his lap.

"I learned it from you!" Kaoru shouts. "You're being cold and mean for no reason!"

Chishiya's jaw tics. Kaoru storms off.

●・○・●・○・●

Eventually, Baya pulls Kaoru aside.

"Sweetheart. You're allowed to be mad. Really. But this isn't helping. You're hurting us all, and I don't think that's what you really want."

Kaoru looks up at her, eyes red and tired. "I just wanted him to care."

"He does care," Baya says softly, brushing his hair back. "That's the whole problem."

"What?"

She kneels down in front of him. "He didn't throw those cards away because he hated them or wasn't proud of you. He threw them away because they scare him. They remind him of something really, really bad. Something we're still trying to forget."

Kaoru looks away. "He should've just said that."

"I know," Baya whispers. "He's trying his best, alright? I won't excuse his actions, but all of this is very new for him and..." she sighs. "Just try to talk it out, okay?"

●・○・●・○・●

Chishiya sitting on the edge of Kaoru's bed—who finally told him he could stay. He has no defense. No further explanations. The boy he loves is seven years old and already questioning if his father wants him.

And now Kaoru won't even look at him.

Chishiya almost gets up to leave, but then he hears it.

A sniffle. Kaoru is sitting upright, his back hunched forward, small hands gripping the blanket. His shoulders twitch with each trembling breath, and then his whole face crumples.

He starts to cry. And moves. Not away, but straight toward him. He stumbles forward, blanket falling off his shoulders, and throws himself into Chishiya's chest. The impact is small, but the emotion behind it knocks the breath out of him. Kaoru wraps his little arms around his father's torso, face pressed hard against his shirt, and starts to sob.

Chishiya blinks rapidly, frozen for a moment. One arm wraps around Kaoru's back. The other cradles his head gently, his fingers threading through the boy's hair.

He holds Kaoru. One minute. Two. Five. He doesn't move.

Eventually, the sobs quiet. They grow smaller. He pulls back just a little, enough to wipe his nose on his sleeve. His eyes are red and glassy and puffy, and he doesn't look at Chishiya right away.

"Were you scared? Back then. Of... whatever it was. The place you won't talk about."

A pause.

"You always act like you're not scared of anything."

Chishiya breathes in slow. He glances at the cards. Then at his son. "Not at first. Only when your mother mingled her way into my life."

Kaoru's eyes snap up.

"I just didn't show it," Chishiya says. "If I did, I wouldn't have made it out alive."

"What was it?"

Chishiya hesitates. "Promise you won't repeat any of this to Hana."

"I won't."

Chishiya exhales. "It was a place where people disappeared," he says. "We didn't know how or why. One moment you were in Shibuya, the next... somewhere else. A twisted version of it."

Kaoru watches him closely.

"They made us play games. Some were about logic. Some were about cleverness. Some were about betrayal." His voice thins. "All of them were about survival. If you lost, you died. If you won, you lived... until the next game. And the next. And the next. These weren't just cards."

"But you survived."

"Barely."

"And Mama, too?"

Chishiya nods once.

Kaoru waits.

Chishiya adds, "She was stronger than anyone. Especially me."

Kaoru lowers his head.

"Did you ever... kill someone?" he whispers.

"Yes."

Kaoru doesn't pull away.

"Were they bad?"

"Some were. Some weren't."

"I don't like that you had to go through that," he mutters. Kaoru's voice turns bitter. "You should've told me."

"I didn't think you were ready."

"I'm not a baby."

"No," Chishiya says. "That's why I'm telling you now."

Kaoru picks up a card, holding it between both hands. "I want to know everything," he says.

Chishiya pauses. "No, you don't."

Kaoru frowns.

"There are things I'll tell you when you're older. And there are things I'll never tell you," Chishiya says.

"But—"

"Kaoru."

He crosses his arms. "I'll ask everyone else about it until I know everything."

"Kaoru." Chishiya grips the child a little bit tighter. "Don't. Please. They won't tell you, either, and either way, don't bug yourself with this. I promise you there are things you don't want to hear about."

"How bad were the people?" He asks. "Were they like villains in a movie?"

Chishiya sighs. "A lot of people hurt your mother really, really badly. Don't you dare ask her about any of this, okay?"

"Badly? How badly? How did they hurt her? And why?"

"I'm not going to tell you that."

Kaoru's gaze darkens. "You must, or I'll ask Mama."

"If you do—" Chishiya stops himself. Sighs. "Just don't."

"I will, though. Unless you tell me what the bad people did."

Chishiya takes a slow breath before looking him straight in the eye. "Okay."

Kaoru looks up at him, eyes curious but serious.

"You know how we always talk about asking permission before you borrow a toy or a game from someone, right? Like saying, 'Can I play with this?' and waiting until they say yes?"

Kaoru nods slowly.

"Well, it's exactly the same with touching people. No one should ever touch another person's body unless that person says it's okay. This includes hugs, holding hands, or anything else. It's important to respect other people's personal space and their choices."

Kaoru's brow furrows a little as he processes this.

"Sometimes, though," Chishiya continues, "there are people who don't follow this rule. They might touch someone in a way that makes that person feel scared or hurt, even if that person says no or doesn't want them to."

"Like the villains?"

"Yes," Chishiya says softly, "sometimes people do very bad things. Your mom was hurt by multiple people who didn't respect her boundaries. It's...please try not to mention this word to anyone unless necessary— but it's called 'rape' or assault, which could be both sexual and just plain assault. A very serious and wrong thing when someone touches another person's body in a way that isn't allowed or wanted."

Kaoru looks confused and a little upset. "Why would they hurt Mama?"

"Some people have a lot of pain inside themselves. They might try to control or hurt others because they don't know how to handle their own feelings. But that's never a good reason to hurt someone else. It's never the fault of the person who gets hurt. Your mom didn't do anything wrong. And neither would you if something like that ever happened."

Kaoru's lower lip trembles, and he looks down at his hands.

"If you ever feel scared or uncomfortable because someone touches you in a way you don't like, or makes you feel unsafe, you have to tell me or Mama right away," Chishiya says, wrapping a protective arm around his son. "No matter what. Even if they threaten you with a knife."

Kaoru sniffles and nods quietly.

"And you have to promise me," Chishiya continues, "that you will never touch anyone in a way that might hurt or scare them. You always ask first, and if they say no, you stop. It's important to respect everyone's feelings and their bodies, no matter who they are. If they looked hesitant, you ask them if it's okay. If they physically protest without saying anything, you stop."

"I promise."

Chishiya smiles gently and brushes Kaoru's hair back from his forehead. "Good. That's the most important thing."

Kaoru leans into Chishiya's chest, his arms wrapping tightly around him. "I don't want anyone to get hurt."

"I know. Me, your mother, and everyone else will always protect you and your sister and Kaede. You're safe with us."

After a moment, Kaoru pulls back just enough to look at him. "But can we go get a new deck of cards?"

Chishiya stares at him.

His voice is so small. So careful. Like he's afraid one wrong word will send Chishiya walking away again.

"Get your shoes," Chishiya says.

Kaoru freezes. "Wait, really?"

Chishiya stands. His joints ache from sitting on the floor, but he's already heading toward the hallway.

Kaoru's face brightens. A little disbelieving. A little cautious. But then he grins and runs to grab his socks.

●・○・●・○・●

The store they find has a surprisingly large selection. Fancy decks sit behind a glass display case. Chishiya lets Kaoru point at whatever he wants.

They settle on a stunning deck with gold edges and a dragon curling across the back of every card. The box it comes in is velvet and fancy. Kaoru also asks for a second deck 'for Mama and Hana to play too,' and Chishiya doesn't say no.

On the walk home, Kaoru doesn't stop talking. He talks about the design. The feel of the cards. How he's going to practice shuffling tricks. He even talks about making his own card games. Chishiya listens, his face mostly unreadable, but his eyes never leave Kaoru.

Later that night, Chishiya passes by Kaoru's room on the way to the kitchen. Kaoru is lying on the floor with his cards spread out around him. He's humming to himself.

From the morning after their shopping trip, he becomes a whirlwind of energy and joy, like a switch inside him has flipped. For the first time in what feels like weeks, there's laughter in the house that doesn't sound strained. There are footsteps that run instead of stomp.

Kaoru is glowing. The cards barely leave his hands. He carries them from room to room, protected in the soft velvet box, and whenever he isn't flipping through them or making up new games, he's right next to Chishiya—pulling at his sleeve, bouncing at his side, grinning so wide his cheeks start to hurt.

"Can we play again?"
"Papa, I made up a new game—"
"Okay okay okay, last round, I swear, but if I win, you have to let me stay up ten more minutes."

And Chishiya—awkward, dry, often quietly exhausted—plays every single time. He grumbles. He sighs. He complains about the rules being inconsistent and the odds being rigged against him. But he plays.

●・○・●・○・●

🂱 A/N: Please teach your kids these things, thanks! 😍

Should I write a Si-eun fanfic (Weak Hero)?

I'll let you know when it's published if I doooo