Yuzuki's Hour 2: — "That's Our Little Family Curse!"

I lay there in the dark for a long time after getting home.
No screaming, no bullets, no engines trying to tear the asphalt apart. Just… silence. And I hated it.

Silence always sounded heavier after a mission.
Like it was waiting for me to say something first.
Like the world was holding its breath, listening to my thoughts.

And I had a lot of those tonight.

I turned my head toward the window, where the faint glow of Lysithea City’s skyline painted thin silver lines across my ceiling. Normally, I’d say the view was pretty. It is pretty, in that kind of “fake-peaceful futuristic hellhole” way.

But tonight? It just looked like a mouth ready to swallow us whole.

You’d think after blowing up a giant drone, escaping a tunnel maze, and finding out my best friend’s long-lost brother might be the villain trying to take over the planet, I’d be too tired to think.
Yeah, that’d be nice.

My brain, unfortunately, works like a glitchy drone. Once it starts spinning, it doesn’t stop.

I rolled over and whispered to the ceiling, “So… that happened.”

Oh right. I forgot to mention, this chapter’s not about action. Or explosions. Or flying cars doing sick jumps over enemy blockades.

No.

This is my hour.
Where I talk to you. The people who probably have a better grip on my life than I do.
And yeah… it’s a mess.

I shoved my face into my pillow and groaned. “Syntrix Umbra is Ecliptix Corp. Just… of course it is.”

The name alone twisted something in my stomach. Ecliptix Corp. The shiny good guys. The city’s pride.

The drones they built clean our streets. Their automation runs most of the highways. They build half the technology that keeps this city breathing.
And they have a monster hiding under their skin.

And my father works there.

Yeah. Fun little detail, huh?

I flipped over, staring at the faint blue glow from my alarm clock. The numbers blurred, and for a second I thought about just pretending none of this existed. Just letting time keep moving, let the adults figure it out. But that would mean pretending my father was safe.
And… I couldn’t.

The kitchen light flicked on when I walked in barefoot.
The service drone was already moving, hovering lazily around the counter like it was bored with life. My father built it himself... which you probably already know abbout... it's name was 'Tomo.' You probably never got to know his name huh? Anyways—

“Good evening, Yuzuki,” Tomo said, its monotone voice oddly comforting. “It is currently two forty-seven a.m. That is not considered a ‘reasonable hour.’”

“Yeah, well,” I muttered, “I wasn’t exactly planning on getting a full night’s sleep after almost dying five times.”

The drone swiveled toward me. Its optical sensor blinked like a blinking blue eye. “Would you like me to brew calming tea?”

I hesitated, then gave a small nod. “Yeah. Sure. Why not.”

It hummed and started the process. If there’s anything constant in this messed-up world, it’s Tomo making tea. The sound of it moving, soft clicks, the gentle boiling, always made the house feel less… empty.

I leaned against the counter and sighed.
“I don’t even know why I’m talking to you,” I said. “You’re a drone.”

Tomo responded without missing a beat. “I am statistically the best listener in this household.”

I let out a short laugh, but it didn’t sound happy. “Yeah, that’s the problem.”

I glanced toward you, well, not you physically. But you know.
I’m breaking the fourth wall. Talking directly to the readers who somehow ended up in my life without asking for it.

See, I don’t talk to my dad much. We’re two experts in awkward silence. I think the only conversations we’ve had longer than two minutes are about practical stuff, bills, food, work. Never about feelings. And now he’s working at the company that’s apparently been plotting some world-ending crap under the city’s nose.

You tell me... how the hell am I supposed to bring that up?

“Hey Dad,” I whispered mockingly to myself, “so, funny thing. Your workplace might be run by evil bastards. Also, wanna pass the soy sauce?”

Yeah. That’d go over real smooth.

Tomo set the mug down with its mechanical arm, as careful as if it were handling fragile glass. “Your heart rate is elevated,” it observed. “You are experiencing distress.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“I do not understand that reference,” it replied calmly.

"Like you understand anything!" I muttered, wrapping my hands around the mug and letting the heat sink into my fingers. I didn’t even drink it. Just held it. Sometimes warmth is enough.

The hallway light clicked on softly.
Footsteps. Slow. Heavy.

My father walked into the kitchen, still in his Ecliptix uniform, dark gray, with their little blue insignia glowing faintly on the collar. He looked tired, like usual. He always worked late. Always came home when the rest of the world was asleep.

“Yuzuki?” His voice was quiet. Surprised, but not too much.
He set down his bag by the doorway.

“You’re still up?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said softly. “Couldn’t sleep.”

He nodded, like that was expected. He didn’t ask why.
He never did.

Tomo floated toward him and chirped. “Welcome home. Tea?”

He gave a tired little wave. “Later.”

He walked to the sink, turned on the tap, let the water run. It was almost like a ritual. He always did things in quiet. Efficient. Predictable. Like a machine built for one specific life.

I looked down at the tea and said, without really meaning to, “Work busy?”

“Yeah,” he answered simply. One word. No elaboration.

I felt my jaw tighten, but not out of anger. Just… frustration.
We were two people living in the same house, speaking in sentences that never meant anything.

You ever want to say something so badly, but your throat locks up?
That’s how it always felt with him.

I wanted to ask if he’d ever heard of Syntrix Umbra. I wanted to ask if anyone in that company ever acted weird. If there were rumors, secret doors, anything. I wanted to ask him if he was safe. If he’d… even know if something happened.

But all that came out was: “Late shift?”

He nodded again. “Yeah.”

Tomo interrupted softly. “You two are incredibly verbose tonight.”

My father chuckled weakly at that. I didn’t. Not because it wasn’t funny. But because my chest felt like it was full of heavy water I couldn’t swim through.

I glanced back at you again. Yeah, you.

See this? This is why I didn’t tell him anything about my new forcefield power, about the missions, about the near-death escapes. Because even if I did… it’d fall into this void between us. It’s not that he wouldn’t care. He would. I know he would.

He just… wouldn’t know how to respond.

And I wouldn’t know how to keep talking.

That’s our little family curse.