●・○・●・○・●
CHAPTER SIX,
a new stage

—

༇ AT the age of eleven—a few weeks after Kaoru started middle school—Hana calls her father from the bathroom.

A pause. Footsteps. Chishiya appears in the doorway a moment later. He sees her face and stops.

Hana doesn't look at him. "It... started." She doesn't say the word. She doesn't have to.

Baya isn't home. She's at work until late in the evening.

Chishiya nods once. "Okay," he says. "Wait here."

He walks away. Hana wraps her arms around herself. She stares at the floor. She feels too old and too young all at once.

A minute later, Chishiya returns with a small box. Pads. The ones her mom likes. He also hands her a clean pair of underwear, still folded from the laundry.

"We keep extras in the cabinet above the sink," he says. "You'll want to change every few hours. If it leaks at night, there's a towel in the closet: dark blue, top shelf. It's just for this."

Hana looks at the box in her hands. Then up at him. "You're not weirded out?"

"No."

"Not even a little?"

"When your mother first leaked in front of me, she ran off to the bathroom and proceeded to freak out when I tried to help."

"What's your version of trying to help?"

"I told her valuable facts and got her everything she needed."

"I'm guessing you weren't dating yet."

"Correct."

That makes her laugh. He gives her a look.

"You okay?"

She nods.

"If it hurts too much," he adds, "there's a heating pad under the sink. And Tylenol in the cabinet, second shelf. No aspirin."

"Why not aspirin?"

"It thins your blood."

"Oh." Another pause. Then Hana says, "Thanks."

Chishiya just nods again. He steps back to give her privacy. Before he closes the door, he adds, "If anything feels wrong, tell me."

"I will."

The door clicks shut. Hana sits there for another minute, staring at the soft plastic packaging in her lap.

"Dad?" The kids have outgrown the 'Papa' and 'Mama' phase by now.

He sounds like he's right outside the door. "Yeah?"

"How exactly does this even work? You've explained me literally everything about anatomy but not how to handle it."

There's a brief pause before Chishiya answers. "The pads I gave you have a sticky strip on the back. You peel it off and stick the pad inside your underwear."

Hana glances down at the unopened box. "Okay."

"There are wings on the sides. You fold those under the underwear, around the bottom. They help keep it from shifting and prevent leaks along the edges. You change it every few hours, depending on how heavy your flow is."

"Do I just... throw it in the trash?"

"Yes. Wrap it in toilet paper or the wrapper from the new one. Then toss it in the bin. Do not flush it, ever."

"Okay."

"Some people don't like pads. You can also use tampons, which go inside your body and absorb the blood. They can feel intimidating at first, but some girls prefer them. Especially for sports or swimming."

"Sounds painful."

"Well, you insert it gently, aiming toward your lower back. If you're tense, it can feel uncomfortable. But if you're relaxed, it usually slides in without much trouble. Once it's in, you won't really feel it."

"And then?"

"There's a string that stays outside your body. You pull it when you want to remove it. Usually after four to six hours."

Hana shifts on the toilet seat, uncertain. "That still sounds kind of scary."

"You don't have to use them right away. Or ever. There's also something called a menstrual cup, or period underwear—"

"I think I'll stick with the pads for now."

"Good call." Chishiya's voice sounds slightly amused.

"Did Mom teach you about this?"

"No," he says, nearly offended. "I know more than she does. Though she did introduce me to the underwear thing. You can always ask her for help. Or me, but I assume you'd be more comfortable with your mother, and it would be handier."

"Okay." After a moment, she murmurs, "I thought this would feel worse."

"It probably will, later," Chishiya replies bluntly. "The cramps usually kick in after the shock wears off."

"Awesome."

"But you'll manage," he adds.

Hana closes her eyes and exhales. "Thanks you."

He lingers just outside the door. "Do you want me to call your mom?"

"Maybe in a bit. I kinda want to try by myself first."

"Alright."

Later that evening, rain taps softly at the windows. Chishiya is on the couch, legs stretched out, a medical journal open on his lap. He reads in silence— his usual night routine.

Hana pads in, wearing one of her mom's old T-shirts that hangs down to her knees. Her hair's damp. She's hugging a stuffed rabbit half the size of her torso.

She hovers near the couch. Chishiya flicks his eyes up without lifting his head. "What," he says flatly.

Hana doesn't answer. Just lifts the blanket at his side and slides under it without waiting for permission.

"You have your own bed."

"It's cold."

"It's not."

"It feels cold."

He doesn't argue further. He just shifts his book slightly so it doesn't jab her as she snuggles in against his side.

She smells faintly of lavender shampoo. Her feet are freezing.

Chishiya grimaces. "Now I'm getting cold."

Hana chuckles softly and tucks her legs farther under the blanket. They sit like that for a few minutes. Just the sound of rain and pages turning.

"Did you always want kids?" She suddenly asks.

Chishiya snorts faintly. "No."

"Really?"

"Really."

Hana shifts a little so she can see his face. "Then why did you have us?"

"I didn't say I didn't want you." His voice is dry as always. "I said I didn't want kids. In general."

"Ah."

He turns the page in his journal, then closes it. Gives her his full attention, which in Chishiya-language, is a big deal.

"I didn't think I'd be good at it," he admits. "I thought I'd be like my father."

"Was he extremely bad?"

"What's extreme?"

"Did he hit you?"

"No."

"Then I guess he's not too bad," she points out. Because, thankfully, Hana still has no clue that words could hurt more than bruises.

"Do you think you're good at it now?" she asks.

Chishiya doesn't answer right away. His gaze drops to her face; so much of Baya in those eyes. "I think I try," he says. "And most of the time, you all survive."

"That's such a weird answer."

"You're awake enough to be insulted."

"Yeah," she says. "You try. You do the, uh... dad stuff."

"Insightful."

"You do! You show up to things. You carry extra pads in your work bag. You make weird toast when Mom's sick. You even do the murder eyes when boys talk to me."

"They deserve it."

"They're literally eleven."

"Exactly."

She laughs and leans her head back on his shoulder. "I think you're a really good dad."

Chishiya doesn't move. Doesn't even blink. But his hand rests against her hair. "I think you're a better daughter," he says.

Hana beams. And then, with her usual bluntness: "So, you didn't want kids... but now you've got two. Were we accidents?" She gasps. "Tell me Kaoru was an accident! Was I an accident?"

Chishiya exhales, muttering something about 'Yuzuki killing him'.

"Go on," Hana presses.

"You were... planned."

"Okay..."

"And Kaoru wasn't."

Her jaw drops. "No way."

"Yes way."

"But he acts like such a try-hard. He thinks he's so mature. That makes me the golden child."She pumps a triumphant fist in the air, then freezes. "Wait. So... Kaoru was an accident-accident? Like, forgot the c—"

"I'm not answering that."

"You kind of just did."

"Go to bed."

Hana snuggles closer. "Do you think Kaoru knows?"

"That he was an accident?"

"Yeah."

Chishiya considers. "If he does, he probably thinks it makes him special."

"That's the most Kaoru thing ever."

"Go to sleep, Hana."

"You go to sleep."

"I'm older."

"I'm colder."

"You stole all the blanket."

She sighs and nuzzles into his side. "You love me, though."

He closes his eyes. "Yeah."

"You said it. You can't take it back. Oh, I'm quoting you. At your funeral. I'll be like: 'He was cold, rude, and never let me use his laptop. But once—just once—he said he loved me.'"

"Remind me to fake my death again. You are insufferable."

"You love me, though," she sings again.

"Regretting it more every minute."

"But I'm your planned child. You chose me. That means everything I do is technically your fault."

He opens his eyes, just a sliver. "That logic is flawed."

"Denial. Classic."

"Delusion. Also classic."

"Projection."

"Go to therapy."

"You go to therapy."

"I did. For like a day."

That makes her pause. "Oh. Right." Then, softer: "Good."

"Don't get sappy."

"Too late." She yawns. "Still sleeping in your bed, though."

"I'll sleep in the car."

"I'll find you."

"Go to sleep, Hana."

"You first."

"I'm not eleven."

"Mentally?"

"Sleep."

She doesn't respond this time. Just shifts a little closer, her stuffed rabbit wedged between them, and lets the silence stretch. A few minutes later, her breathing deepens. Chishiya glances down at her once. She's out cold, mouth slightly open, brow relaxed.

He reaches over and pulls the blanket higher up her shoulder. The rain goes on, soft against the windows. A car passes in the street outside, tires hissing on the wet pavement.

Chishiya leans his head back against the couch cushion. Hana is heavy against his side. He listens to her breathing. It's even. It wasn't always like this.

She used to cry when Baya left for work. She'd refuse to eat certain foods for weeks based on color alone. She used to ask a hundred questions at bedtime: about stars, and death, and why the toilet water swirls the way it does.

He glances down again. Her hand has slipped from the rabbit's ear and now rests lightly against his arm. Her face is too much like Baya's. Her attitude is worse. And her voice, when she wants something, is terrifyingly close to his.

From the hallway, Kaoru's door creaks faintly open. He appears around the corner, blinking. His hair is a mess. "Why does she get the couch?"

"Because she bled today."

"Oh." Kaoru looks vaguely disturbed. "Ew." He pads over, glancing at his sister. "She okay?"

"She's fine."

"Can I sleep out here too?"

"You snore."

"I don't."

"You do."

Kaoru folds his arms. "Can I have hot chocolate?"

"It's nearly midnight."

"I'm cold."

"You own socks."

"I'm very cold."

"Then warm up by reflecting on your poor life decisions."

"That's not very therapeutic of you."

"I'm not your therapist."

"You act like one."

"I'm underpaid for it."

Kaoru creeps closer. 

"No, Kaoru."

He pauses mid-step. "You didn't even look."

"I can feel your intent."

"That's not a real thing."

"You're my son. It's very real."

Kaoru takes one more step. Then he crouches next to the couch, eyes gleaming with mischief. "She's breathing like a bear. It's not even human—"

"Kaoru."

Ignoring him, Kaoru licks his finger dramatically, then gives Hana a classic wet willy.

Her eyes shoot open instantly. "Argh, you disgusting rat—!" She flails, nearly headbutting Chishiya in the chin. Kaoru cackles and sprints off.

Three minutes later, Chishiya receives a text.

Kaoru: Just thinking about that time you fainted so hard the floor probably has trauma.

Chishiya: You were an accident.

Kaoru: You really collapsed into fatherhood, huh

Hana comes running back to Chishiya just when he puts his phone down. Quickly, she snuggles back below the blanket.

"I have question. Can I have a sibling?"

"You already have one."

"I meant another one. Like... a younger one."

He glances down at her. "Why?"

"I think I'd be a good big sister. Like, I've practiced. Kaoru was basically a test."

Chishiya makes a noise. "Kaoru is one year older than you."

"Yeah, but emotionally? I'm, like, ten years ahead."

"That's not how development works."

She pokes his ribs through the blanket. "Just imagine it. A tiny baby. Or twins."

Chishiya exhales through his nose. "You want two more siblings?"

"If they come as a pair, I'm not gonna break them up."

"Very considerate of you."

"I just think our family's kind of... small."

"We have two kids."

"Yeah, but one of them's Kaoru."

"Point taken."

She grins and nudges closer. "So? You and Mom. Make one. I'll do the rest."

"Absolutely not."

"Why not?"

"First of all, I'm not manufacturing a human just because you're bored."

"I'm not bored! I'm lonely!"

"You have friends. You have hobbies. You have—what's the name of the rodent you text every night?"

"Kimura is not a rodent!"

"Hm."

"Also, you and Mom are still young! Ish. You're not that old. You're so unfair."

"You're eleven. You don't get to request people."

"I'm not ordering a person, I'm asking for a sibling. That's a normal thing."

"No. It's not."

She sits up. "I bet if Mom were here, she'd say yes."

"She's not. So I win."

●・○・●・○・●

One year into middle school, every piece of dignity Chishiya ever taught Kaoru seemed to leave.

Thirteen year old. Eighth grade. New classes. New friends.

He meets them at lunch the second week of school: loud, cocky, and magnetic. There's Riku who brags about older girls and makes it a point to swear in every sentence. There's Uchida, whose phone is always out under the table, showing screenshots and blurred videos that make Kaoru's skin crawl. Then there's Shoma and Daiki—followers, echoing laughter at every joke.

All of them are at least two years older. They've all repeated multiple school years because they didn't pass.

And they talk fast and loud and always about girls.

Not about who they think is smart or who helped them with homework. Not about who's nice, or who makes them laugh.

They talk about which girls are 'probably freaks,' who they'd 'tap', who's 'just asking for it' based on what they wear. They say things that Kaoru doesn't even understand yet. Words he's never said out loud.

He doesn't like it. At first. But he's thirteen. He's scared of being different. He's scared of being small. So he starts laughing when they do. Even when the jokes turn his stomach. He tells himself he has to. If he says something, they'll turn on him. He's seen it happen to other boys. He doesn't want to be that kid. Not again. Not the weird one with sensory processing disorder. He learns how to say awful things with a straight face.

Several months into the school year, the notebook appears.

Black. Passed around like a sacred book.

Inside, page after page of what the others call 'Girl Ratings.' Names. Numbers. Body descriptions. Fantasies. Rumors. Lies. Notes.

And the rule is simple: when it's your turn, you take the notebook home. You add to it. You write something worse than the last guy.

Kaoru takes it home on a Thursday. His palms sweat the whole walk back. He sits at his desk, hands trembling as he flips to a blank page. He doesn't know what to write. He doesn't want to write anything.

But he starts slow. Then crosses it out. Too plain. Too soft. Not funny enough.

He tries again. But when he imagines the boys reading it, laughing, he keeps going.

He doesn't know enough words. So he opens a browser. He types in things he's heard them say but didn't understand. He stares at things he doesn't want to see. Pictures. Forums. Descriptions with too many details. Some of them make him scared. Some of them make him confused. He writes anyway. Trying to echo the tone. Trying to fit in. When he closes the notebook, he stares at the ink.

At home, he barely looks at his parents and tells Kaede's he's got too much homework to hang out. And it continues for several weeks. As he studies. As he takes tests and passes them all. As he sometimes asks Chishiya for help with his homework. As the entire group eats dinner on the weekends now and then. As Kaede still follows gentlemen lessons from Kuina.

●・○・●・○・●

The house is dark when Kaoru opens the door. No TV on. No hum from the kitchen. No sound of his mother's soft humming. Just the hallway light.

And a silhouette; Chishiya stands in the living room. Still in his hospital scrubs. His coat is folded neatly over the armrest, his phone turned facedown on the table.

He's waiting.

Kaoru freezes in the doorway, instinct warning him before anything is said.

"...Dad?"

Chishiya doesn't answer at first. Just studies his son with an expression Kaoru knows too well— the same one he wore when he caught his kids making a mess of his office.

"I made it through three surgeries today," Chishiya says. "Got puked on twice. Lost a kid on the table. Comforter a mother while she cried. Then I came home and opened the laptop because I needed to send an email." He steps forward, slowly. "And there it was, my son's search history."

He tries to speak. "I didn't m—"

"I swear to God, Kaoru," Chishiya cuts in, voice low, "if you finish that sentence with 'I didn't mean to', I will throw this laptop out the window before you finish blinking."

Kaoru shuts his mouth.

"I wouldn't have minded," he says, "if you were curious."

He blinks.

"You're thirteen years old. Of course you're curious. It would be okay if you searched a few things up. In fact, I wouldn't mind. I expected curiosity. I hoped for questions. You could've asked me anything." He places the laptop back down. "But you didn't search for curiosity."

"What piece of your mind thinks it's okay to search those things up? I don't care if you're thirteen— you typed things that even adults should be ashamed to type."

Kaoru stares at the floor. "I didn't like it," he says quietly.

"Then why did you keep going?"

"...I don't know." Kaoru wipes his face. "I wasn't thinking—"

"Don't. Don't lie. Not when we're already past the point of pretending."

Kaoru's throat is dry. His eyes sting. But he says nothing.

"Do you even understand what you were watching?"

Kaoru shakes his head slowly. Shame climbs his spine.

"That's the problem," Chishiya says. "You don't. And you're feeding something in yourself you don't understand. Something dangerous."

Kaoru looks up, startled. Chishiya meets his eyes. His face flushes. "I didn't know what it was going to be—"

"Yes, you did. You typed in specific words. Not vague ones. Not innocent ones. Intentional ones. You were looking for something. And you found it. And you kept going."

Kaoru's voice is barely a whisper now. "I didn't think it mattered—"

"It always matters what you put into your mind. What you normalize. What you laugh at. What you treat like a joke. Because one day it stops being something on a screen. It becomes the way you look at people. The way you talk about girls in your class. The way you justify harm."

Kaoru's eyes well up. "I didn't do anything—"

"Yet."

The word cuts clean and cold.

"But you're walking the edge of something very dark, Kaoru. And you are very young. Which means there's still time to step away from it. But now I have to become the version of a parent I hoped I'd never have to be."

He stands.

"Here's what's going to happen. One: Your devices are gone. Tablet. Phone. Laptop. Until further notice."

Kaoru starts to speak, but Chishiya cuts him off with a look.

"Two: internet access in this house is restricted." He starts to pace. "Three: Every day after school, you're coming to the hospital library. You'll sit where I can see you. You'll do your homework. Then you'll read. Anything from the nonfiction section. History. Psychology. Whatever I assign. You'll learn how people break, and how they heal. Since you're so interested in damage, you can study it the right way."

Kaoru's face is crumpling. "Dad—"

"Four. You will talk to your mother. Not an apology. A confession. She deserves to know what almost grew in this house."

"What? No—"

"Five," Chishiya continues, "you will write a reflection. Two thousand words. On what consent means. What violence does. What it means to see someone as a person and not a body. You will show it to me. And then you'll show it to your mother as well."

"But Mom—"

"Yes." The finality in Chishiya's voice is absolute. "You will sit across from her and explain what you did. And you will let her see your shame."

Kaoru is pale. Shaking. "She'll never look at me the same."

"This isn't something we forget. It's something we change from." Chishiya studies his son. "You're not evil," he says, after a long beat. "But you are responsible. And if you don't take that seriously now, you'll turn into someone who does do evil. Do you understand why this matters?"

"Yes."

"I still need you to understand what rape and sexual assault actually mean, even though I've explained before. Not the garbage you've seen online. Not what your friends joke about. I'm going to list situations. You're going to tell me if it's assault or not. Clear?"

Kaoru nods quickly, wiping his eyes.

Chishiya starts. "A girl is drunk at a party. A boy kisses her without asking."

Kaoru whispers, "Assault."

"Correct. A girl agrees to make out, but he suddenly tries to pull off her clothes, and she says no."

"Assault."

"Correct. Consent once isn't consent forever. A boy keeps begging until the girl gives in and says 'fine, just do it already.'"

"...Assault."

"Yes. That's called coercion. Pressure is not consent. A girl laughs when a boy gropes her from behind in the hallway."

Kaoru looks unsure. "She didn't consent at first, but if she's laughing—"

Chishiya shakes his head. "Wrong. Victims sometimes laugh when they're scared. Laughter is not a yes. It's a survival response."

Kaoru lowers his gaze, nodding.

"A boy films a girl changing without her knowing. He doesn't touch her."

"Still assault."

"Yes. It's a violation of privacy and dignity. You don't need to touch someone to violate them. Two people are in a relationship. One of them says no. The other keeps going anyway."

"Assault."

Chishiya nods slowly. "Even if they've had sex before. Even if they're married. Consent must be ongoing. Every time."

Kaoru wipes another tear away. He nods even heavier.

"A boy rates girls in a notebook, uses crude words about their bodies, and passes it around with his friends."

Kaoru flinches. "Assault," he murmurs shamefully.

"Yes," Chishiya says. "That is assault too. Not physical. But it's objectification. It's public humiliation. And it plants the seed that girls are things to be judged."

Kaoru covers his face with both hands. "I didn't mean it like that— I just wanted them to like me—"

Chishiya's voice hardens. "That notebook? It's trash. Burn it. If you bring it back here again, I'll hand it to the principal myself."

Kaoru nods through sobs.

"And you searched for those videos and terms to impress them?"

"I didn't know what to say, so I thought if I wrote something crazy... they'd think I'm cool."

Chishiya's eyes narrow. "Do you know what wasn't cool, Kaoru?"

He doesn't wait for a reply.

"People who have showed up at the hospital because of heart issues. Appears they've been getting drugged by people they trust. One of those people was your mother. The stories I've heard from patients, or from a patient's friend. Things I've seen." A long pause, before Chishiya finishes, "You don't get to be curious about violence when the woman who raised you survived it."

Kaoru gasps, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I—"

Chishiya stands up and kneels in front of his son. "You will know now. You will learn. You are going to unlearn every toxic lie those boys taught you. You're going to look people in the eye again without wondering how they'd look ranked in some disgusting list. And you're going to respect every person's body."

Kaoru sobs, nodding again and again.

Chishiya places a hand on his shoulder. For the first time, his voice softens. "You are not beyond redemption, Kaoru."

"Okay," Kaoru chokes out. "I'm sorry. I'll fix it. I swear—"

"You don't fix it with words," Chishiya says. "You fix it with choices. Tomorrow, we're having another conversation. But this time, you'll be listening more than you talk."

●・○・●・○・●

Kaoru has never walked slower in his life. The hallway to the living room feels like it stretches for miles. Every step echoes.

His mother is already sitting at the table. She looks up when he enters. Her face is bare, no makeup, no expression to hide behind. She's still in her work clothes.

Kaoru stands in the doorway, small all over again.

"Sit," she says gently.

He does. His hands are folded in his lap. His heartbeat is everywhere.

She doesn't say anything for a long time. Just watches him. Then, in a voice that barely rises above a whisper: "Why?"

Kaoru tries to answer, but no words come. His mouth opens. Closes. Opens again.

She waits.

And then the tears come again. "I wanted them to like me. I wanted to be normal. I didn't even understand half of it. I didn't... I didn't know how bad it was until it was too late."

Baya's eyes glisten, but she doesn't let the tears fall. She doesn't look away. "You didn't understand the videos?" she asks. "Or you didn't understand why they were wrong?"

"I don't know," he whispers. "Both."

"Do you... think of girls that way, Kaoru?"

His head jerks up. "No. I mean. I don't know what's wrong with me, because I didn't even... feel anything when I watched them, but I still kept watching. But no. I swear, Mom. I don't."

Baya leans forward, folding her hands. Her knuckles are pale. "You are my son. I love you. I will never stop loving you. But what you did..." she doesn't finish her sentence. Instead, she reaches across the table and places her hand over his.

Kaoru doesn't deserve it, but he lets her hold on anyway.

●・○・●・○・●

The house isn't quiet that night. Kaoru hears it through the wall—his mother's voice, muffled but unmistakable. Choking. Then rising. Then falling apart. It starts as questions. "What did he search?" "Where did he learn that?" "How long has this been going on?" Then she starts sobbing.

Kaoru lies on his side, curled in bed, hands fisted in his sheets. Every sob he hears from Baya slices through him like barbed wire. He wants to plug his ears. To shut his eyes and erase the last week. But the sound of his mother breaking because of him is louder than shame.

He thinks of the notebook in his desk drawer. He thinks of their smirks.And then he thinks of his mother. Of her kindness. Her gentleness. Of how she still leaves sticky notes in his lunchbox and brushes his hair when she thinks he's asleep.

He thinks of what his father said. Kaoru sits up. He walks to the desk. He opens the drawer and grabs the book and his lighter from the windowsill where he hides it. He tugs on a hoodie and creeps out the back door.

In the backyard, the grass is damp with dew.  He flicks the lighter. The first corner of the book curls. Ink bleeds and turns to smoke.

Kaoru watches it burn. To ashes.

The next day, he doesn't go to class.

He walks straight past the office, down the hall to the lockers. They're laughing there, as always. One of them is passing a new notebook around. A replacement.

Three seconds later, they're physically attacking each other. Kaoru tastes blood. They struggle, fists flying. No technique. By the time a teacher yanks them apart, Kaoru's breathing hard. One's screaming. Another's filming on his phone.

Kaoru doesn't care. He walks out of the crowd, blood on his knuckles, and heads straight to the principal's office, who looks up, startled.

Kaoru doesn't wait. "There's a notebook going around," he says. "It rates girls in our class. Talks about their bodies. What the guys would do to them. It's passed around. Hidden. We take turns." He swallows. "I wrote in it too."

The principal just stares at him.

Kaoru's voice cracks. "I burned my copy last night. But it went on for weeks before that. I don't care what happens to me. Just stop it."

Silence.

Then the principal slowly folds her hands. "We will," she says quietly. "We'll handle this. Thank you for telling me."

Kaoru nods, numb. He's never felt so sick. But for the first time in days, he can breathe.

●・○・●・○・●

🂱 A/N: A whole roller coaster, I guess. Eh, at first I wasn't sure whether or not to include this, but I want to make their childhoods as realistic as possible, and especially with some teenage boys (and also girls) these days, this seems realistic enough.

Sorry that all these chapters have been rushed and unstructured. I'm just working to show you pieces of their childhood before the Borderlands and love story starts. That's when the chapters will include less time skips and will flow more naturally like in Sweven.

I got sad about not really being able to write young Chishiya and Baya being madly in love but then I remember I will literally write another version of act 3 and then I was happy again (though it does mean Nirapist will return)

ALSO. I got the best news ever. Everyone keeps saying like "oh no, Nijiro won't be in season 3" so I went on the hunt.

Basically, Netflix's teaser trailer about season 3 has a caption that says
"CAST:
Kento Yamazaki
Tao Tsuchiya
Nijiro Murakami"

And more

What other confirmation do we need if Netflix literally said it??

I'm so happy ayayayayay

What are your fav kind of games to read about, btw? Hearts, spades, clubs, or diamonds?

And any more head canonsss?

Oh, and requests for specific scenes? Or at least vibes. Like, more bickering, more fluff, more spicy stuff??

And specific scene requests for Hana and Kaoru's childhood? I can write flashbacks so age doesn't matter. Just anything you'd like to read.

Have a good day!!