The Unraveling

Yuki sat on his bed, his body still trembling from the panic attack that had overtaken him at the park. His breaths were uneven, his thoughts racing as the chaos of the party replayed in his mind—the stares, the whispers, and the questions he couldn’t answer. He felt like he was spiraling, sinking into a confusion so deep that even breathing felt like a challenge.

Jun sat beside him, quiet and steady, a grounding presence amidst the storm. His hand rested lightly on Yuki’s shoulder, the weight of it somehow calming. The two had returned to the safety of Yuki’s bedroom after his breakdown at the park, and now the silence between them felt as heavy as the words Yuki wanted to say but couldn’t.

“You’re okay now,” Jun said softly, his voice calm but firm. “Just breathe.”

Yuki let out a shaky exhale, his head dropping into his hands. “I don’t get it, Jun,” he muttered, his voice trembling. “I’ve been trying so hard, but nothing’s happening. At the party, when they all looked at me, I just… froze. They wanted something from me, something that everyone else could give. But I had nothing. I’m just… empty.” His voice cracked, the weight of his admission threatening to overwhelm him. “I think I’m broken.”

Jun didn’t respond right away, his gaze fixed on Yuki with a mix of sympathy and something deeper—something Yuki couldn’t quite place. There was a flicker of hesitation in Jun’s eyes, as though he was debating how much to say.

“It’s not your fault,” Jun said at last, his tone steady. “You’re not broken. You’re just… different.”

Yuki lifted his head, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Different? What does that even mean? Why am I the only one who doesn’t have anything? Everyone else at that party—they had mods, abilities, something to show. And then there’s me, standing there like some kind of… freak.”

Jun’s jaw tightened at the word, and his grip on Yuki’s shoulder firmed. “You’re not a freak,” he said, his voice low and insistent. “You’re just figuring things out. It’s okay to not have all the answers yet.”

Before Yuki could respond, the door to his room creaked open. His mother stepped inside, her sharp gaze sweeping the room. She didn’t even glance at Jun, but her disapproval was palpable in the way she looked at Yuki.

“Yuki,” she said, her voice clipped. “Come for dinner. Now. And alone. We don’t have space for company.”

Yuki’s frustration flared, but he didn’t argue. He knew it was pointless. His mother had never liked Jun being around for too long. She never said it outright, but the way she looked at Jun made it clear she didn’t think he belonged.

As she left, Jun was the first to stand. “Take care of yourself, okay?” he said quietly, offering Yuki a small, reassuring smile.

“Yeah,” Yuki replied, though his voice lacked conviction.

Jun reached the door, his hand on the knob, when Yuki hesitated. Something had been bothering him for days, and now seemed like the moment to ask.

“Wait, Jun,” Yuki called, his voice wavering. “Who’s Maya Aoki?”

Jun froze, his back stiffening. Slowly, he turned, his expression unreadable. A flicker of surprise crossed his face before it vanished, replaced by a calm, neutral look.

“Maya Aoki?” he repeated, his tone casual. “She’s that friend of yours from school, right?”

Yuki frowned, his suspicion growing. “Yeah, but… do you know her? I heard that notification on your holo-watch a few days ago—”

Jun’s face remained calm, but his response came quickly, too quickly. “No, you probably imagined it. Or it came from your own watch,” he said with a shrug, offering a faint smile.

The knot in Yuki’s stomach tightened. Something wasn’t right, but before he could press further, Jun opened the door and stepped out, leaving Yuki alone with his doubts.

//

As Jun walked down the hallway, Yuki’s question echoed in his mind. Who’s Maya Aoki?

Guilt gnawed at him, a heavy, unrelenting weight. Yuki trusted him, let him in, and yet here he was, lying to his face. It wasn’t that Jun didn’t care for Yuki—he did. But the truth was far more complicated than Yuki could understand.

Maya Aoki. She wasn’t just some random classmate. She was the key to everything. But Yuki couldn’t know that. Not yet.

As he exited the house, Jun’s thoughts shifted to his real mission. He wasn’t just a concerned friend. He was here for answers—answers hidden in Yuki’s mother’s research.

He moved swiftly through the house, slipping into her office with practiced ease. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on a small drawer. Inside, just as he’d expected, was a USB drive. He hesitated, his fingers brushing over it. Was he ready to see what secrets it held?

With a sigh, he picked up the USB, turning it over in his hand. The weight of it felt heavier than it should. After a long moment, he shoved it back into the drawer. Pulling out his holo-watch, he typed a quick message to Maya: I didn’t find the files here.

It was a lie, but for now, it would buy him time.

As he left the office, Yuki’s mother appeared in the hallway, her sharp eyes fixed on him. Jun gave her a polite bow, his face betraying nothing. “Thank you for your time,” he said smoothly, before slipping out the door and into the night.

//

The dinner table was as tense as Yuki had expected. His mother’s gaze lingered on him, sharp and probing, while his father’s attempts at conversation felt forced and hollow.

“So, Yuki,” his father began, his tone casual, “how’s everything going with the mods? Any progress?”

Yuki stared at his plate, his stomach twisting. He didn’t want to answer, didn’t want to admit the truth. But his father was waiting, his gaze expectant.

“I don’t have any progress,” Yuki said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

His parents exchanged a look before laughing, as though he’d made a joke.

“Come on, Yuki, don’t be so dramatic,” his father said with a chuckle.

“I’m not joking,” Yuki said, his voice firmer now. He looked up, meeting their eyes. “I don’t have any mods. It’s been weeks, and nothing’s happening. I don’t know what’s wrong.”

The laughter faded. His parents’ faces shifted to confusion, then disbelief.

“What do you mean, you don’t have any?” his mother asked, her tone sharp. “That’s impossible, Yuki. This has never happened before.”

“I don’t know,” Yuki whispered, his voice cracking. “I thought I was like everyone else, but… maybe I’m not.”

His mother’s expression darkened, her eyes narrowing. “There’s something wrong,” she said, her voice cold. “Something hidden. It has to be.”

“Hidden?” Yuki’s voice rose in frustration. “If it were hidden, I’d know. I’d feel it.”

“Does anyone else know about this?” she demanded, her tone sharp. “Your classmates? Jun?”

Yuki hesitated, his heart pounding. “Jun knows,” he admitted quietly. “And… maybe my classmates suspect it.”

His mother’s eyes flashed with anger. “I don’t like that,” she said sharply, turning to his father. “Call Genesis College. Yuki’s going to take a break from school. Immediately.”

Her words hit Yuki like a blow, the finality of them leaving him stunned. His chest tightened as he realized the walls around him were closing in, the weight of his parents’ expectations suffocating him.