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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE,
lines meant to be crossed

⚠︎︎⚠︎︎

—

༇ KAEDE throws a jab. Shirabi blocks it easily. "That's the best you got today? What, the wind changed direction and it broke your heart?"

Kaede throws another punch. This one's harder, but But it's off balance.

Shirabi dodges. "Thought so."

"I messed up," Kaede mutters.

Shirabi doesn't say anything at first. He steps back and circles. "Hana?"

Kaede is already removing his gloves. "I told her."

Shirabi lowers his hands a little. "You told her?"

"Yeah."

"Like words came out of your mouth?"

Kaede glares. "Yes, Shirabi. Actual words."

"Well damn," Shirabi whistles. "Did not have that on my bingo card."

Kaede's not in the mood. "She rejected me, obviously."

"Oh."

"And I panicked. I said..." He exhales hard through his nose. "I said all this awful shit. I said I was joking. Then I said I'd never like someone like her. I said she wasn't even pretty."

Shirabi winces. "Ouch."

"I know! I didn't mean any of it. I don't even know why I said it. I just... my brain turned blank. I've liked her for so many years and the second I actually say it, I destroy everything."

"Yeah." Shirabi leans against the wall. "Sounds like it."

Kaede glares again. "Thanks for the sympathy."

"I am being sympathetic. Just not, like, gentle." Shirabi picks up his water bottle, tosses it once, catches it. "Look, man. Maybe it's time."

Kaede frowns. "Time for what?"

"To let her go."

The words land like a punch to the ribs. Not hard— rather deep. Kaede stares at him.

"She doesn't like you back, dude. And she knows you like her. She's known for a while. She didn't say anything because she didn't want to hurt you. That's what nice people do."

"But I can't just stop—"

"Yes, you can. You can stop. You should stop. Seven years, Arisu. That's a prison sentence. And this whole gentleman thing you do," Shirabi continues. "Holding her bag. Walking on the street side. Treating people like they're glass." He shakes his head. "It's sweet, but it's not you. You don't even like people that much."

"I was trying to be respectful."

"Yeah, but respectful doesn't mean fake. You're always performing. Like being perfect will earn her love or something."

"It's not a performance—"

"It is, though. You've got this image of yourself that you're trying to sell. The Kaede who opens doors and quotes books and doesn't curse and always says the right thing."

"I say the wrong thing all the time."

"Yeah, but not honestly. You panic and implode. You implode because the real you is angry and messy and probably hates half the adults in your life."

Kaede doesn't answer.

Shirabi takes a breath. "Let me ask you something. When was the last time you let yourself be mad? Like, really mad. Out loud. Not hiding behind sarcasm."

Kaede stares at the floor.

"Exactly."

"What good would being mad do?"

"I don't know," Shirabi shrugs. "But maybe if you got pissed off once in a while, they'd finally start listening. You don't always have to fold in on yourself. You don't always have to be the quiet one, the good one, the one who never complains. You've been swallowing your feelings for years, pretending they were something smaller than they are. Maybe it's time to stop trying to be what everyone wants you to be."

Kaede frowns at him.

"I'm serious," Shirabi says. "This whole 'polite boy with a crush' thing... it's not working. You're miserable. And the worst part? You're not even letting yourself be miserable. You're bottling it up. You should be furious. You should be screaming at teachers and telling adults to shut up when they talk down to you— you should be letting them know you're a fighter. You don't need to be a damn gentleman all the time. Drop those lessons. Let her go. Apologize, but don't try so hard again. It's been long enough."

"That sounds shitty."

"Try it out." Shirabi pats him on his shoulder. "Come on. Round two."

●・○・●・○・●

Three knocks on his bedroom door. Three decisive pounds.

Kaede's heart sinks when he opens it and finds Chishiya standing there.

The man doesn't wait for permission. He steps in immediately, eyes scanning before they land on Kaede with disapproval.

"What do you want?"

Chishiya shuts the door behind him with a gentle click. "We need to talk."

Kaede tenses, arms crossing over his chest. He's kind of— no, truly terrified.

"First, you steal a name. Then you pierce Hana's belly button at twelve, after I specifically didn't allow that. You lied for her. Put an insanity needle through her skin. And now," Chishiya continues, "you made her come home in tears for the rest of the day. She's probably still crying in her bedroom— because you, someone she trusted, called her unwanted, ugly, and annoying. And since you're usually to soft spoken and kind, it hits even harder."

Kaede's fingers curl into fists. "I—"

"You didn't want to feel hurt and humiliated, so instead, you hurt and humiliated someone else," Chishiya interrupts. "Which is extremely lame and cowardice." He walks further into the room. "You cracked under pressure. Your ego got bruised and you lashed out. You took every emotion you were too afraid to feel and turned it into a knife. You pointed it at her. The girl you've been pretending to love."

"I do love her."

"You love the version you invented. The Hana who would one day wake up and realize you'd always been there, who would look at you and say, 'Oh, it was you all along.' But that's a fantasy, Kaede. And when reality didn't match your fantasy, you destroyed her."

Kaede's mouth opens. Nothing comes out.

Chishiya tilts his head, hands slipping into his coat pockets. "I let you drift too long. I thought you'd eventually find your own personality. But no. You've been building your entire identity around being a good boy with a broken heart. And when that crumbled, you turned mean. Now let me be crystal clear: if you ever, ever, speak to Hana like that again, I don't care how much you mean to this family, or how many years of loyalty you've offered her, you'll never—"

And suddenly, Kaede grabs a game controller from his desk and throws it against the wall, just a few inches from Chishiya's head. "Shut the fuck up! You don't know shit about me!"

Chishiya raises an eyebrow.

"You walk around acting like you're smarter than everyone, but you're just some emotionally constipated robot who thinks being cold makes you deep! I didn't steal Kaoru's name," Kaede screams, "my parents gave it to me, and if you want to complain so badly, go to them, but not me!" His voice gets louder and harsher. "You can't walk into my house and teach me a lesson! You're not my dad! You're not anyone's dad, you're just some cold, manipulative asshole who got lucky knocking up a woman who makes up for all the ways you're emotionally fucking dead inside!"

Chishiya's jaw tightens at that last sentence.

Kaede steps even closer. "Get the fuck out of my room! You psychotic freak! You think you know everything, don't you? You think you're some genius with your rat eyes and your little smirk! I don't give a shit about your perfect family or your perfect legacy or your precious son with his 'cool' name and his dad who gives a shit! You love watching people squirm. That's the only reason you came here tonight. You didn't come for her. You came to enjoy the fallout. You wanted this."

He continues, "No wonder your daughter acts like she's starving for attention all the time! Fuck your diagnosis of my entire life! And fuck your tone and your stupid white hair and your creepy little voice! I've had enough of people like you thinking they can talk down to me just because they're older or smarter or whatever the fuck you think you are. I don't owe you shit. I don't owe your daughter shit. I don't owe your family shit."

He slams his palm against the wall. "And if I could go back and do it again? I'd say the same things to her face twice with a megaphone. Maybe with fireworks behind me just to piss you the fuck off! You're not special. You're not better than me. So get out!"

Silence.

"Get the fuck out!" Kaede throws another controller near Chishiya's head. "Get out!"

Chishiya adjusts his coat, smooths a nonexistent wrinkle, and turns toward the door. Kaede watches him leave with heaving shoulders and clenched fists.

But when Chishiya is gone, he sees both his parents standing just outside. Usagi's eyes are wide, mouth parted in disbelief. Arisu stands beside her, looking just as shocked. Neither of them says anything for a moment.

"Kaede," Usagi finally manages. Her voice is brittle, high with restrained panic. "What— I don't even know what to say."

Kaede swallows. His heartbeat is crashing against his own ears.

"I understand you're angry, and you have the right to speak up for yourself, but..." Arisu eyes the controllers on the ground.

"You can't throw things at him, or anyone in our friend group, okay?" Usagi jumps in. "We should sit down and—"

"Get out of my room."

"Excuse me?" Arisu steps forward. "You don't speak to your mother like that."

Kaede's breathing quickens. "Get out. I don't want to talk to either of you."

"Too bad. If you had such things to say to Chishiya, then you can also say it to us. We didn't hear what Chishiya told you, and we'll gladly believe he was also in the wrong, so don't walk away from talking about that."

Usagi tries to reach for him. "Kaede, honey, I don't know what's going on with you, but—"

Kaede shoves her arm away. "Don't touch me!"

She stumbles back, nearly crashing into Arisu. Her face folds in pain— not physical. Kaede's already pushing past them. Arisu tries to block him, reaching to grab his arm, but Kaede throws an elbow into his father's ribs. It knocks the air out of him enough to give Kaede a few seconds to slip through.

"Kaede— Kaede, come back here!" Usagi calls.

He's already down the hall. Down the stairs. Slamming the front door behind him so hard the whole frame shakes. The night outside is cold and quiet. Kaede takes a few staggering steps into the street, arms shaking, teeth clenched so hard his jaw aches. His legs start moving. Walking, then jogging, then sprinting.

He cuts through streets, alleys, the park, not even noticing the mud soaking into his sneakers. He runs and runs and runs until his body gives out and he collapses on his knees somewhere at the edge of the woods.

The tree line looms in front of him, dark and endless. He stares at it like it might swallow him whole before he gets up and walks in.

The deeper he goes, the colder it gets. The air in the woods is damp and heavy. His footsteps snap branches. Leaves crunch beneath him.

Eventually, he finds a dry patch beneath a tree and drops to the ground. His back hits the trunk, and only then does he realize how hard he's shaking.

He feels like a monster. Like some cruel version of himself crawled out tonight and spoke all the things he never meant to. I'd say the same things to her face twice with a megaphone. Lies. He wouldn't. He'd give anything to take it back.

He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. It doesn't stop the tears. They come slow, leaking hot down his cheeks, mixing with the dirt on his skin.

The woods hum quietly. Wind against the branches, the distant snap of some animal, creaking from insects. All around him, the world continues moving.

Kaede stares down at his hands. They're dirty: black under his fingernails, smudges of something mossy on his knuckles. His palms are raw from where he'd caught himself earlier, falling to his knees too hard. There's a small scratch on the inside of his wrist. He doesn't even remember getting it. Maybe a branch.

He brushes his thumb over it, and for a split second, it stings. Just a little. Barely anything. But it cuts through the chaos in his head like oil and water.

He does it again. Picks at it. It flakes, then tears, and his skin opens. Barely bleeds, except the sharpness of it jolts something inside him.

Kaede freezes. He didn't mean to. He didn't go into the woods thinking I want to hurt myself. That wasn't it. That isn't it. He just wanted to feel something simple.

He sits there for a long time, fingers pressed against the mark, watching it go from red to darker red. A strange calm settles in him. Then guilt creeps in under it. What am I doing?

His eyes shift to the ground beside him. A broken twig lies near his shoe, sharp at one end where it must've splintered off.

Kaede picks it up without thinking. His fingers close around it. He turns it in his palm. Weighs it.

I just want someone to notice. What would happen if someone found out? Would they care then? Would someone hold his face in their hands and say he doesn't have to do this to be seen?

Would Hana come? Would she forgive him? Would Chishiya stop looking at him like a failed experiment? Would someone finally understand that he's not fine, and that he never was fine?

He presses the twig against his skin. Just lightly. A test. He's not sure what he expects. A sign? A scream from the sky? A bolt of lightning splitting the tree beside him?

He presses harder. Drags it just enough to leave a red line. Then another. Tears fill his eyes again. Uncontrollable this time. Not because of the pain. He's ashamed. Deeply, horribly ashamed.

He drops the twig. Pushes away from the tree, curls into a tighter ball. He wipes at the marks with his sleeve, smearing dirt and blood together until it just looks like another scrape.

●・○・●・○・●

When Chishiya comes back home, Baya sighs so deeply that it ages her ten years. "Shuntarō. I told you not to go. He's a kid. Let them figure it out themselves."

"If they did that, nothing would've changed."

"Then you should've asked me to do it. You're not exactly fitting to scold children. You act like they're worse than the real cruel people we've met." She pauses, sitting up straight. "What did you say and what did he respond with?"

"I stated facts. He lost it."

"Lost it how? And what facts, exactly?"

"He cussed me out," Chishiya almost says it like he's proud. "And threw controllers at my head."

"What?" Baya jumps off the couch now. "What the hell did you tell him?"

He hums, long. "I can't recall it exactly—"

"Shuntarō."

"Really just reality—"

"Shuntarō."

"But I guess he thought I went too far—"

This time, it's not Baya who interrupts him, but the doorbell. It rings once. Twice. Three times. Then a long time, lasting several seconds. The fifth ring doesn't stop.

"Might be him. Take cover." Chishiya hands Baya a pillow and stands. The ringing doesn't stop until he finally opens the door. "Are you— oh, hi."

"Is he here?"

"Who?"

"Who do you think?" Usagi pants. "Where's my son, Chishiya?"

"How would I know?"

"What?" Usagi sounds extremely surprised, panicked, and offended at once. "No, no— he's not at Kuina's house. He's here. Right? Right, Chishiya?"

Chishiya looks back at Baya. "Is Kaede hiding here and am I not aware?"

Baya hurries over to Usagi. "No, he's not here," she says worriedly. "What happened?"

"He pushes Ryohei and I away and ran off," Usagi peeps. "Kaoru, Hana— have either of them seen him?"

"Kaoru!" Baya yells, as loud as possible. "Hana! Have you seen Kaede? Or received a text or something?"

"No," comes gruffly from Hana's room, and Kaoru, loudly, also yells "Nope."

"Maybe he's fine." Baya rests her when on Usagi's shoulder. "Probably just blowing off some steam. He'll be back, Usagi."

"I don't want something bad to happen and the last thing I remember is yelling at him—"

"Nothing bad is going to happen," Baya promises. "Kaede's a good kid. He won't just walk into trouble, okay?"

"I won't be able to calm down until he's back—! I need to go look for him—"

"Does he have his phone with him?"

"No." Usagi starts breathing faster. "He doesn't have anything with him. And he has never run away like that before. Do we have to call the police?"

"We'll wait another few minutes. If he still hasn't returned, we'll call, alright?" Baya reassures. She takes Usagi inside. "Come on. I'll make some tea. Don't worry. He'll be careful."

She guides Usagi to sit down at the kitchen table. Behind them, there's a rustling sound before the front door closes with a soft click. Startled, the two women look up.

"Where's Chishiya going?"

"I sure hope he realizes he messed up and went looking for Kaede," Baya mutters. "So, what tea?" 

Meanwhile, outside, Chishiya pulls up his coat collar as the chill of the night air wraps around him. He walks without urgency. Not slow, but certainly not frantic. He doesn't call Kaede's name. He doesn't fumble with his phone. He doesn't even look particularly concerned, though his brows are furrowed, just slightly.

Though Kaede's faults don't compare to Chishiya's faults in the slightest, the things Kaede told Hana still remind Chishiya of the things he once told Baya. And, the reasons behind why they said this things, are surprisingly similar, except other than that, Kaede is the opposite of Chishiya.

Not the opposite like Baya. Kaede simply represents everything Chishiya is not, and everything he finds dangerous. Kaede reminds him of those who were brave and ready to fight, but died because they felt too much and cared too much about others.

And Kaede has spent the past seven years being someone he's not.

Chishiya once knew a man. A man who was against the 'laws' of his own company. A man who, even if he disagreed with the law, gave up his ideals to keep working and was in constant conflict with himself.

Pretending someone he was not.

Not in the same way Kaede has been doing, but it feels familiar enough to hate the idea.

Chishiya sees footprints in the wet grass. Sneakers, heading toward the forest line. He pauses, tilts his head slightly.

●・○・●・○・●

Kaede is still curled under the tree, his fingers tangled in the wet leaves and dirt. The anger has mostly passed. The shame hasn't. He keeps wiping at the marks on his arm like they might vanish if he scrubs hard enough.

Footsteps.

His whole body tenses.

Another footstep. Closer now.

"Well, you didn't get eaten by a bear. That's good."

Kaede lifts his head, and his blood runs cold. Chishiya stands a few feet away, arms folded. His hair glints slightly under the moonlight.

Kaede stiffens. "Go away."

"No."

He crouches a few feet away from Kaede, not close enough to touch him. His eyes scan the boy's face, then his arms. "You did that to yourself?"

Kaede snaps his arms behind his back. "I said go away."

"No," Chishiya repeats. "Because if I do, you'll think no one noticed. And clearly, that's the problem."

Kaede glares at him. "You don't care."

"But they do." Chishiya gestures back toward the houses, even though they can't see it. "Your mother is losing her mind. My wife has been glaring at me and I forgot she's capable of being scary."

Nothing.

Chishiya sighs. "If you're trying to disappear, you're terrible at it."

"I don't want to go home."

Chishiya watches him for a moment. Then lowers himself to sit on a patch of leaves nearby, within conversational distance.

"You don't have to go home right now," Chishiya says at last. "We could go to the hospital."

"I'm not that hurt."

"No, just for fun."

Kaede looks up, startled. "What?"

Chishiya just starts walking. Kaede, quickly convinced, scrambles after him.

When they reach the hospital, Kaede stops. "Can I ask something?"

Chishiya glances over. "Unfortunately."

"Can you... treat me like one of your real patients? Like, pretend you don't know me? I want to see what you're like when you're working and... I think this is very awkward so if we could pretend not to know each other, maybe it's less awkward."

Chishiya stares at him for a moment.

Kaede continues, faltering. "I've always wondered what kind of doctor you are. I want to see it."

"Fine," he agrees. "I charge extra for emotional labor, so don't cry."

Kaede grins faintly. "Thanks, Shush."

They enter through a side door. Chishiya's white coat isn't on, but his demeanor has already changed. They pass through corridors lined with posters about hearts. Kaede reads one without understanding a word.

"This way," Chishiya says. His tone is dry, no longer familiar. "Observation first. Assessment later."

Kaede nods quietly, clutching his injured wrist.

Inside the exam room, Chishiya gestures toward the chair beside the monitor. "Sit."

Kaede obeys.

Chishiya takes a clipboard and gloves from a nearby drawer. "What's your full name?" he asks.

"Kaede Arisu."

"Age?"

"Fifteen."

Chishiya writes it down. "Current medications?"

"None."

"Allergies?"

"Latex, I think. Not sure."

"Any history of seizures, fainting, or arrhythmia?"

Kaede blinks. "No."

"Are you okay with me checking your heartbeat?"

"Yeah."

Chishiya steps in close and presses a cool stethoscope against Kaede's chest. "Breathe normally."

Kaede does. The stethoscope shifts.

"Deep breath."

Another.

Chishiya pulls back. "Heart rhythm is irregular but not dangerous. Likely anxiety-related. Pupils reactive." He clicks a penlight. "Mild tremor in both hands. You're not severely hypothermic, but your temperature's likely low."

Kaede nods. Chishiya puts on the blood pressure cuff and tightens it without explanation. He checks the numbers.

"Pulse is fast," he notes aloud. "Blood pressure's fine. You're not in danger, but you need observation."

"Because of my wrist?"

"Because you're fifteen, and it's one in the morning, and you wandered off into the woods alone." Chishiya kneels slightly to inspect the wrist. "Hold it still."

The cuts are shallow, mostly dried. No stitches necessary. Chishiya cleans them wordlessly, with firm but careful hands. His expression doesn't change. When he wraps it with gauze, Kaede stares at him, almost stunned.

"You're very normal about this."

"First of all, you asked me to act like I don't know you. Second of all, like you told me, I'm not your father."

"You really do talk to kids like they're adults."

"No. I talk like this because you're fifteen. The way I speak to my patients varies with every year."

"I can't exactly imagine you signing to a baby to distract them from a needle."

"I usually don't handle those things. I'm the surgeon. Most of the time, the kids don't even see me. And if they do, they don't remember me when they wake up with all that anesthesia in their body."

A long pause. "...and sometimes I talk to them like adults because they're the only adults in their lives."