Chapter 25 : Undercurrents

January 14, 7:30 PM. Suzuki Residence, Entryway.

“I’m home.” Hikaru calls out while swapping her outdoor shoes for slippers from the cabinet.

““Welcome back.”” Voices echo from the living room and kitchen—Dad and Mom.

“Mom, what’s for dinner?” Unlike the “shy stutterer” outside, Hikaru’s lively at home. Normal—who doesn’t have two faces? Home is “safe,” so this is her true, relaxed self.

“Your favorite—potato beef stew. You called about overtime, right? I saved you a portion.” Mom stirs the pot without looking back. “How’s the family restaurant job?”

“Exhausting! Dead tired!” Hikaru flops onto the living room sofa, melting instantly.

“Opening day—tons of high schoolers hit family restaurants for club meetings. Spring break had empty tables even at peak, but today? Packed. Juice and soda refills nonstop. Head chef’s got tendonitis…”

Mid-ramble, an empty yogurt container on the table catches her eye. She picks it up—her marker scribble on it—then glances at Dad, calmly reading the evening paper.

“Dad, did you steal my yogurt?”

“Kiddo, accusations need proof.” His voice muffles behind the paper. “Even parent-child—I can sue for slander.”

“Dad, your paper’s upside down.”

“Oh—oh—” He flips it frantically.

“Dad, yogurt on your mouth.”

“Eh—eh—” He wipes, finding nothing.

“Gotcha, Dad.” Hikaru tugs his cheek. “Parents are role models! Was this mouth lying? This one?”

Father and daughter tumble into play-fighting. Mom, finishing in the kitchen, smiles helplessly.

“Enough, dinner time.”

“Mom, judge!” Hikaru runs to her, huffing. “I marked my name on it, and Dad still ate my yogurt!”

“Dear, anything to say?”

“I didn’t steal! I openly took it from the fridge—ate it fair and square! No slander!” Dad declares righteously. “Besides, the yogurt didn’t complain!”

“Guilty.” Mom, the fair judge, rules. “Penalty: convenience store run for an identical yogurt.”

“All hail Judge Qingtian!” Hikaru cheers, hugging Mom.

Short family skit over—Dad heads out for yogurt, Mom watches Hikaru devour stew with warm eyes.

“Slow down, don’t choke.”

Nom nom… Fresh off work, Hikaru’s starving.

“Oh, your dad and I discussed—post-opening, family restaurant will have lots of high/junior high kids killing time. He’ll pick you up after shifts. Same timing, on the way. Thoughts?”

“Uh… no need, feels weird.” Hikaru shakes her head. She’s no princess—car pickup after part-time? Too embarrassing.

“We’re thinking of you—a girl…” Mom persuades gently. “No rush. Think it over, or try a few times. You’ll get used to it.”

“Dinner’s done, thanks!” Before Mom finishes, Hikaru claps in thanks, slippers slapping upstairs.

The Suzukis’ two-story Western-style house—her room’s far left on the second floor.

Click. She locks the door immediately. Home is “safe.” Her room is “safe.” Locked, it’s the safest place on earth.

Hikaru breathes deeply, purging tension. Fully relaxed, she sits at her desk—cluttered with trinkets: pen holder, lamp, dictionary, plus hobbies like Antarctic critter bandages from the aquarium, bottled pebbles…

“Ah, new message.” Fiddling with stones, she notices her phone. Post-high school entry, parents got her one for work-family contact—but Yingcheng High bans phones on campus. Rule-abiding Hikaru prioritizes compliance. The phone gathers dust, checked only “morning to school” and “post-work to bed.” Few have her number.

Besides parents, who’d message? Curious, she opens it—the new text jumps out:

Hasegawa Asuka: Hikaru, done with work? Reply when you see this.

The name sparks memories.

“Ah, Asuka… she does have my contact…” Second-year junior high, chance brought her to this rich heiress. Asuka pushed hard—they formed a girls’ band with others. Now? Dreamlike nostalgia.

Didn’t Asuka go to Seisen Girls’ High in the next city after graduation? Why contact now?

A bitter smile forms. Oh, I’m the one pretending. I know why.

Suppressing complex emotions, Hikaru types slowly, sends:

Suzuki Hikaru: Sorry, just off work. What’s up?

Heart pounding, she heads for a bath to unwind.

Bzz bzz. Phone vibrates—instant reply.

Hasegawa Asuka: Weekend gig, same old spot. Coming?