Chapter 34 – “Little Trouble, Big Heart”

Eight years later.

The morning sun spilled through the curtains of the Sakamoto household, washing the room in warm gold. From the kitchen came the familiar, half-loving, half-scolding voice of Riko Sakamoto.

“Haruka! You’re going to be late again!”

A small whirlwind of brown hair dashed through the hallway. Haruka Sakamoto, age seven, wearing her uniform half-tucked and one sock inside out, was the perfect combination of both her parents — Daichi’s gentle eyes and Riko’s unstoppable energy.

“I’m almost ready, Mama!” she shouted, struggling to zip her backpack while hopping on one foot.

Riko sighed, holding a piece of toast between her teeth as she tied her daughter’s hair. “You said that ten minutes ago! You’re worse than I was!”

Haruka giggled. “Then I guess I’m just like you!”

Before Riko could reply, Daichi Sakamoto appeared from the doorway, straightening his tie with his usual calm smile. “She’s got you there, Riko. Like mother, like daughter.”

Riko glared playfully. “Oh, hush, Mr. English Teacher. Aren’t you supposed to be setting a good example?”

Daichi chuckled, picking up Haruka’s lunchbox. “I teach high schoolers, not morning chaos experts.”

Haruka tugged at his sleeve. “Daddy, can you walk me to school today?”

He crouched down, brushing a strand of her hair away. “Of course, but only if you promise not to race the pigeons again.”

Haruka puffed out her cheeks. “No promises.”

Riko groaned. “You two are impossible.”

---

At the elementary school gates, the other parents whispered affectionately. Everyone in town knew them — Mrs. Sakamoto, the beloved primary teacher whose students adored her, and Mr. Sakamoto, the charming high school English teacher known for his patient smile.

One mother whispered, “They were high school sweethearts, you know.”

Another sighed, “Still act like newlyweds.”

Riko heard and flushed pink. Daichi just laughed, slipping his hand into hers. “Ignore them,” he said softly. “They’re not wrong, though.”

She rolled her eyes but squeezed his hand back. “You never change.”

“Neither do you,” he said with a grin.

---

That evening, the Sakamoto home glowed with cozy light. Haruka sat at the table drawing, crayons scattered everywhere.

“Look!” she said proudly, holding up her paper. “It’s me scoring a goal in soccer! Like Mama used to!”

Riko smiled, recognizing her own childhood spark in that drawing — the tomboy spirit, the fierce grin, the big dream.

Daichi peeked over her shoulder. “That’s a great drawing, Haruka. But what’s that next to you?”

Haruka beamed. “That’s my classmate! He said girls can’t kick better than boys, so I’m showing him I can!”

Riko and Daichi exchanged a knowing look — a flashback of a certain soccer field years ago, when a loud, confident girl had shocked a certain boy with the exact same words.

Daichi chuckled. “Oh no… she’s definitely your daughter.”

Riko laughed too, resting her chin on her hand. “Yeah… but maybe she’ll make fewer messes than I did.”

Haruka tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

Daichi smiled gently. “Your mom used to get into all kinds of trouble when she was your age.”

Riko crossed her arms. “Excuse me? You were the one who made everything worse.”

Haruka giggled, eyes sparkling. “Did you fight a lot, like me and Yuto in class?”

“Only every day,” Daichi said with a wink.

Riko threw a pillow at him. “You’re supposed to be a role model!”

The room filled with laughter — the kind that came from years of love, chaos, and shared dreams.

---

Later that night, after tucking Haruka into bed, Riko and Daichi sat together on the porch, watching the stars.

“It’s strange,” Riko murmured. “Feels like yesterday we were just those two idiots bickering in the hallway.”

Daichi smiled softly, brushing her hand. “You mean we still are — just with better furniture.”

She laughed quietly, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“Do you ever regret anything?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Not a single thing. Every fight, every blush, every stupid moment led us here.”

Riko looked at the stars — the same kind they’d confessed under years ago. “I guess growing up doesn’t mean changing who we are.”

Daichi wrapped his arm around her, murmuring, “No. It just means we get to love each other longer.”

---

From inside the house, a tiny voice called sleepily, “Mama… Papa… love you.”

They turned toward the doorway, smiling.

Riko whispered, “She really is my mini-me.”

Daichi laughed softly. “Heaven help me when she hits middle school.”

Riko grinned. “Relax. She’s got the best dad in the world.”

He kissed her forehead. “And she’s got the best mom — the girl who made my world brighter.”

Cherry petals fluttered across the porch as they sat together — the same breeze that once carried the laughter of two high schoolers who never stopped choosing each other.