The door stood open.
And time—just for a moment—stood still.
Kentarou held the handle, his eyes locked onto Violet's.
She was already looking at him.
Calm.
Unwavering.
That same deep gaze.
"…Come in," Kentarou finally said.
His voice was steady—
But only on the outside.
They stepped in.
Mr. Kubo entered first, followed by Violet's younger sister, and then—
Violet.
As she passed by him—
Just for a second—
He felt it again.
That quiet, unexplainable feeling.
"…!"
Kentarou quickly looked away and closed the door.
—
The living room filled with presence.
Voices.
Movements.
A different kind of warmth.
Everyone took their seats.
Polite greetings were exchanged.
Small conversations began.
Kentarou sat down—
Not too close.
Not too far.
But aware.
Always aware.
Violet sat across from him.
Quiet.
Composed.
Her eyes occasionally drifting toward him—
Only to meet his when he least expected it.
And every time—
His thoughts stumbled.
"…Focus…"
He told himself.
But it wasn't easy.
—
"Well then," Kentarou's father suddenly spoke, standing up.
Everyone's attention shifted.
"No need to waste time," he said with a light smile. "The food is ready."
Kentarou's mother nodded. "Yes, let's eat first. The children must be hungry."
Violet's younger sister immediately brightened.
"Yes!"
A soft laugh followed from the adults.
The atmosphere eased.
Chairs moved.
Footsteps followed.
Everyone slowly made their way toward the dining table.
—
The dining table was set.
Plates arranged.
Food served.
Everyone had taken their seats.
"Looks delicious," Mr. Kubo said with a smile.
"Please, help yourselves,"
Kentarou's mother replied.
Chairs adjusted.
Hands moved toward the dishes.
Everything was ready.
—
And then—
Kentarou quietly picked up his plate.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Without making a sound.
"…If I leave now…"
His eyes shifted slightly.
Everyone was busy.
Talking.
Serving food.
No one was looking.
"…I can eat in my room."
A perfect plan.
No awkwardness.
No eye contact.
No pressure.
Just peace.
He turned.
One step.
Then another.
Almost at the edge of escape—
"…Kentarou."
He froze.
"…!"
Slowly—
Very slowly—
He turned back.
Mr. Kubo was looking straight at him.
Smiling.
But not the kind of smile that lets you escape.
"…Where are you going?" he asked calmly.
Silence.
Everyone's attention shifted.
"…Ah…"
Kentarou's mind went blank.
"…I was just…"
Thinking of an excuse.
"…Going to… check something."
Senku would have been proud of how bad that lie was.
Mr. Kubo chuckled.
"No need for that," he said. "Come, sit here."
He gently patted the seat next to him.
"…!"
Kentarou looked at the chair.
Then at him.
Then—
At the table.
No escape.
"…Okay."
Defeated.
He walked back.
Sat down.
Right next to Mr. Kubo.
"…Good," Mr. Kubo smiled.
Kentarou stared at his plate.
"…This is bad."
Across the table—
Violet noticed everything.
And for a brief moment—
She smiled.
Just a little.
Because the quiet boy—
Who always seemed calm—
Had just failed a very obvious escape plan.
And somehow—
That made him…
More interesting.
__________________________
The meal had ended.
Plates were empty.
Voices had softened.
And the lively atmosphere from before had settled into something calm and comfortable.
—
Kentarou sat in the living room.
On the sofa.
Not too relaxed—
But no longer trying to escape.
Across from him—
Violet sat quietly with her sister.
Mr. Kubo leaned back slightly, looking satisfied after the meal.
From the kitchen—
The faint sound of running water could be heard.
Kentarou's parents were washing the plates.
"…So," Mr. Kubo suddenly spoke.
Kentarou looked up.
"Yes?"
"What are your plans for the future?"
A simple question.
But direct.
Kentarou paused for a moment.
"…Future…"
He thought.
Just briefly.
Then—
"…I'm interested in medical."
The room grew a little quieter.
Mr. Kubo nodded.
"Oh?"
"…Maybe as a nurse," Kentarou continued. "Or… a doctor."
His voice remained calm.
But there was sincerity in it.
No hesitation.
Just a quiet decision.
"I see," Mr. Kubo smiled. "That's a good path."
Violet's younger sister looked impressed.
"Wow…"
Violet didn't say anything—
But her eyes shifted toward him.
Watching.
Carefully.
As if trying to understand him a little more.
—
Just then—
Footsteps approached.
Kentarou's parents walked back into the living room.
"All done," his mother said, wiping her hands.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," his father added.
"Not at all," Mr. Kubo replied.
The room filled again.
Voices resumed.
____________________________
The living room slowly filled with conversation again.
Light.
Warm.
Comfortable.
"So, Violet," Kentarou's mother said with a gentle smile, "what are your plans for the future?"
All eyes shifted toward her.
Violet sat calmly.
She didn't hesitate.
"…I want to become a fashion designer."
A simple answer.
But clear.
Confident.
"Oh, that's wonderful," Kentarou's mother replied.
Mr. Kubo nodded proudly. "She's been interested in it for a long time."
Violet's younger sister leaned in. "She makes a lot of things too!"
"…I just practice," Violet said softly.
Kentarou listened.
Quietly.
And then—
A memory surfaced.
The threads.
The careful movements of her hands.
That cloth she was making when he visited her house.
"…I see…"
It makes sense.
The thought came naturally.
Everything connected.
Her calm nature.
Her focus.
Her creativity.
It all fit perfectly.
—
Time passed.
Conversations flowed between the adults.
Occasionally, questions were directed at Kentarou.
And as always—
He answered.
Short.
Simple.
Just enough.
"…Yes."
"…Maybe."
"…I think so."
Nothing more.
But inside—
He wasn't calm.
I need to talk to her…
The thought repeated again and again.
Somehow…
His eyes shifted toward Violet.
She was listening to others.
Occasionally speaking.
Calm.
Composed.
Say something…
But nothing came.
His throat felt tight again.
Just like before.
—
Then—
A small memory clicked.
"…Books…"
Mrs. Kubo's words from earlier.
About his collection.
And how Violet didn't have her phone.
His eyes widened slightly.
"…Right."
A reason.
A natural reason.
Without thinking further—
He stood up.
"I'll be back," he said quietly.
Everyone looked at him for a moment.
Then nodded.
Kentarou walked upstairs.
His steps slightly faster than usual.
—
Inside his room—
He moved straight toward his shelf.
Manga.
Novels.
Carefully arranged.
"…Which one…"
He scanned them.
Thinking.
Choosing.
Not randomly this time.
But with intention.
"…This should be good."
He picked a few.
Held them in his hands.
And paused.
"…This is it."
A small step.
But important.
Because for the first time—
He had a way—
To talk to her.
__________________________
Kentarou walked back into the living room.
A few books in his hands.
His grip—
Slightly tight.
He returned to his place and sat down.
Right in front of Violet.
But still—
Behind his parents.
The two families faced each other across the room.
Conversations continued.
Nothing had changed on the outside.
But for Kentarou—
Everything felt different.
Now…
Say it…
He looked at her.
"…Vio—"
Nothing came out.
His voice—
Gone again.
"…!"
He froze.
Violet was already looking at him.
Quietly.
Patiently.
As if she had been waiting.
Kentarou's expression softened.
A little helpless.
A little defeated.
Why… can't I say it…?
He looked into her eyes.
And she didn't look away.
Not even once.
Her gaze was calm.
Gentle.
Almost encouraging.
As if saying—
It's okay… just speak.
But he couldn't.
A small silence passed between them.
Then—
Kentarou raised his hand slightly.
Careful.
So no one would notice.
A small wave.
Violet blinked.
Then focused on him.
Kentarou slowly lifted the books.
Showing them to her.
A quiet gesture.
But clear.
Violet's eyes widened just a little.
"…!"
And right at that moment—
"Hmm?" Mrs. Kubo noticed.
"Oh!"
She suddenly smiled.
"I completely forgot about that!"
Now—
Everyone looked at Kentarou.
"…!"
There was no hiding now.
Kentarou hesitated for a second.
Then—
He leaned forward slightly and handed the books to Violet.
"…You can have them."
His voice was quiet.
But this time—
It came out.
Violet received them carefully.
"…Thank you."
Her voice was soft.
But filled with something more.
She looked at the books.
Then—
At him.
And smiled.
A small—
Cute—
Genuine smile.
Kentarou froze for a second.
…
That smile—
It stayed.
"…It's nothing," he said quietly.
But his eyes didn't leave her.
Because for him—
That moment alone—
Was worth everything.
—
Time passed.
The sky slowly shifted toward evening.
And soon—
It was time.
"Thank you for the meal," Mr. Kubo said, standing up.
"It was wonderful," Mrs. Kubo added.
"You're always welcome," Kentarou's mother replied.
Time passed.
The conversations slowly began to settle.
A calm silence filled the room again—
Comfortable.
Natural.
Then—
Kentarou's father spoke.
"…By the way," he said, looking at the Kubo family, "if you're all free on this upcoming Wednesday…"
A small pause.
"Why don't we go out somewhere together?"
The suggestion hung in the air.
Mr. Kubo looked interested.
"Oh? That sounds nice."
Kentarou's mother smiled. "It would be good to spend some time outside."
Then—
Kentarou's father turned slightly toward Mrs. Kubo.
"What about you?"
Mrs. Kubo thought for a moment.
"…There is a holiday," she said.
"But…"
She glanced at the others.
"…Let's see if we all can get leave on that day."
"That's fair," Kentarou's father nodded.
"We'll confirm later," Mr. Kubo added.
The plan wasn't fixed—
But the idea was there.
—
Soon—
Everyone began to stand.
"It's getting late," Mrs. Kubo said gently.
"Yes, we should head back," Mr. Kubo agreed.
Kentarou stood near the door again.
Watching.
Listening.
Taking in every small moment.
Shoes were worn.
Final words exchanged.
"Thank you for everything," Mrs. Kubo said.
"It was wonderful," Mr. Kubo added.
"You're always welcome," Kentarou's mother replied warmly.
The door opened.
One by one—
They stepped out.
Violet held the books close to her.
Before leaving—
She looked at Kentarou.
Just for a moment.
And gave a small—
Soft smile.
Then—
They left.
The door closed.
And once again—
Silence returned.