Chapter 15: — "Promise Kept... But For What?"

The room smelled faintly of disinfectant and wilted flowers. Evening light slipped through the blinds, painting stripes of pale gold across the floor. The steady beep of the heart monitor was the only thing breaking the silence.

Haruto lay half-awake, eyes half-lidded, watching the ceiling blur in and out of focus. His right hand rested against the blanket, still bruised from the fight. A soft ache pulsed behind his ribs whenever he breathed too deep.

The door opened with a click.

He turned his head slightly. Koharu stood in the doorway, still in her work uniform, a wrinkled blouse, dark slacks, and a cardigan that looked too thin for the season. Her hair was pulled into a loose tie, strands falling into her tired eyes.

She didn’t say anything at first. Just stood there, staring at him like she wasn’t sure if she should’ve come in at all.

“…You’re awake,” she said finally, voice low and flat.

“Yeah.” Haruto’s voice was hoarse. “For now.”

Koharu stepped inside, shutting the door behind her. In her hand was a small paper bag from a convenience store. She set it down on the side table without looking at him.

“I didn’t know what you could eat,” she muttered. “So I just got something soft. Rice porridge and some fruit.”

Haruto blinked, then gave a small nod. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me.” Her tone snapped before she even realized it. She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I only came because the hospital called my number. Said you needed someone to sign the damn papers.”

He nodded again, slower this time. “Right.”

The silence that followed was thick, awkward. Koharu stood near the foot of the bed, arms crossed, eyes darting anywhere but at him. The steady rhythm of the monitor filled the gap between words neither of them wanted to say.

Then, quietly—

“So this is where you end up after playing hero, huh?” she said, her voice sharper now. “You think standing up for some girl is worth ending up in a hospital bed?”

Haruto didn’t answer. He just looked at her, calm, tired, too familiar with her anger to react.

Her jaw tightened. “You don’t even deny it. God, you’re unbelievable. Do you have any idea how expensive this is? I’m the one who has to deal with the bills again. You get to lie here and look pathetic while I—”

She stopped herself mid-sentence, her breath catching. The anger in her voice wavered, just barely.

“…You just don’t think, do you?” she continued, quieter now. “You never think about what happens after. You just jump in like you’re some kind of savior.”

Haruto’s eyes dropped to his hands. “…Someone had to do something.”

Koharu scoffed. “Oh, please. Don’t start with that martyr crap. You think you’re helping, but all you ever do is make things harder for everyone around you.”

Her words hit sharper than she intended, but she didn’t take them back. Instead, she kept going, because stopping meant she’d have to feel guilty.

“I’m out there working every damn day, trying to keep this family from falling apart, and you’re out here picking fights like you’ve got something to prove.”

Haruto’s lips pressed together. “…It wasn’t about proving anything.”

“Then what was it about?”

He hesitated, the answer caught somewhere between his chest and his throat. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper.

“It was about keeping a promise.”

Koharu frowned. “A promise?”

He nodded. “I told myself I’d never let anyone get hurt because of me again.”

Something in her expression faltered, a tiny crack that almost went unnoticed. She looked away quickly, her fingers curling against her arms.

“You always talk like that,” she muttered. “Like you’re carrying the whole world on your back. You couldn’t protect anyone, Haruto. You couldn’t even protect yourself.”

“I know.”

That stopped her cold.

He looked up at her then, really looked at her, his eyes steady but empty around the edges. “I know I can’t. But I still have to try.”

Koharu exhaled sharply, frustrated, almost panicked. “Why? Why do you keep doing this to yourself?”

He didn’t answer.

She took a step closer, anger flaring again, though it sounded more like fear now. “Do you even hear yourself? You’re sitting there bruised and bleeding, and you think that’s some kind of— of-of... of redemption?!”

He didn’t look away. “Maybe it is. Maybe it’s the only kind I’ll ever get.”

“God, you sound just like Dad,” she said, voice cracking on the last word.

That silence that followed hurt more than anything else.

Haruto’s throat tightened, but he forced a faint smile. “Then maybe I learned it from him when he was around...”

Koharu stared at him, disbelief, anger, something else flickering in her eyes. She turned away, pacing once, twice, trying to steady her breathing.

“…You’re an idiot,” she muttered finally. “You always were.”

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I know.”

She grabbed her bag from the table, the plastic crinkling in her hand. Her voice trembled as she spoke, but she didn’t look at him.

“You always think you’re saving someone. But all you do is make me clean up the mess.”

Haruto didn’t respond. There wasn’t anything left to say.

Koharu stood there for a second longer, like she wanted to say something else, something real, but her pride kept it locked behind her teeth. She finally turned, stepping toward the door.

Just before she opened it, Haruto said quietly, “Thanks for coming.”

Her hand froze on the handle.

She didn’t turn around. “I didn’t come for you.”

And then the door shut behind her, the sound echoing in the empty room.

Outside, in the hallway, Koharu made it halfway down before her steps faltered. She stopped, back against the wall, her breath shaking. The silence pressed against her until it cracked something deep inside.

She pressed a hand to her mouth, trying to hold it in, but the tears came anyway, hot and quiet.

“…You fucking idiot,” she whispered, voice breaking. “You’re just like dad used to be. Always hurting yourself for someone else…”

She wiped her face quickly, straightened her shoulders, and walked away before anyone could see.

Inside, Haruto stared at the ceiling again. His bruises throbbed with every breath, but there was something softer behind his eyes now.

A faint smile.

“At least you came... that's more than enough I guess...” he murmured.

The heart monitor kept beeping quietly, slow, steady, alive.