Chapter 6 : Saturday morning

Saturday sunlight poured through the thin curtains of the Ayase apartment, painting the wooden floor with a soft golden glow. The faint smell of laundry detergent lingered in the air, mingling with the earthy scent of coffee that Ayase brewed for courage more than for energy.
Today was cleaning day.The dreaded, once-a-month, “we-might-find-a-monster-under-the-bed” cleaning day.
“Alright,” Ayase said, tying her hair into a loose ponytail and raising her sleeves. “Operation Clean-Up starts now. Whoever slacks off buys lunch.”
“Eh? That’s not fair!” Souta protested from the couch, holding his tablet like a shield. “I’m the youngest! I don’t even earn money yet!”
“That’s exactly why you should work harder,” Haru replied with a smirk. “So you can pay me back for all the snacks I buy you.”
Ayase sighed with a fond smile. “ start cleaning.”
She clapped her hands like a general giving orders. Haru groaned, Souta whined, but within minutes, the apartment was buzzing with motion — the vacuum roaring, brooms scraping, drawers being opened for the first time in months.
The apartment was small, two bedrooms and a living space that doubled as a dining area, yet it was filled with warmth — books stacked in corners, framed photos of their parents still hung on the wall, and tiny post-it reminders Ayase stuck everywhere.Her life was carefully organized chaos.
While Haru tackled the closet, Ayase and Souta worked on the living room shelves. Dust motes danced in the light as Souta unearthed old photo albums and random trinkets.
“Hey, look! Is this Dad’s watch?” Souta asked, holding up a small, silver wristwatch. It had scratches around the edges, but it still gleamed faintly.
Ayase paused.Her throat tightened.
“…Yeah,” she said softly. “He wore it every day, remember? Even when Mom scolded him for forgetting to take it off in the bath.”
Souta giggled, the sound pure and light. “He was so silly.”
Ayase smiled, tracing a finger along the watch’s cold surface. The years had passed, but moments like these brought her parents back — not as distant memories, but as warm presences in the room.
From the closet, Haru’s voice broke the silence. “Found something weird.”
He pulled out an old box labeled ‘Clothes - Don’t Touch!’ in their mother’s elegant handwriting.
Ayase blinked. “Oh no… not that box.”
“Why?” Haru asked, teasing. “You hiding something, sis?”
“It’s just… full of sentimental stuff. We’ll end up crying.”
“That’s fine,” he said, sitting cross-legged and lifting the lid. “Sometimes it’s good to remember.”
Inside were their parents’ old clothes — a soft cardigan their mother used to wear at home, their father’s worn-out blazer, and a scarf that still faintly smelled like the perfume Ayase remembered so vividly.
Haru picked up the blazer, brushing off the dust. “It’s bigger than I remember.”
Ayase chuckled quietly, though her eyes shimmered. 
Souta wrapped the scarf around his neck, striking a pose. “Look! I’m Mom now.”
Ayase laughed, really laughed, her hand covering her mouth. “You look adorable, Souta.”
For a brief, fleeting moment, the apartment felt full again — laughter echoing, memories fluttering in the air like the dust they stirred up.
Then, as the laughter faded, Haru spoke quietly, his voice low. “It’s weird, huh? We’re all still here… but sometimes it feels like time stopped in this apartment.”
Ayase turned toward him.He wasn’t looking at her, just staring at the folded clothes, his expression unreadable.
She wanted to say something comforting, something to ease the ache she saw in his eyes. But all she managed was a small nod. “Yeah… I know.”
The silence that followed wasn’t heavy — it was gentle, filled with understanding.
Souta suddenly stood up. “I’ll clean the balcony! It’s full of leaves.”
Haru smirked. “clean your room instead.”
“Rude!”
Ayase chuckled again as Souta rushed off. She took a deep breath, letting the soft hum of the city outside fill the room. Somewhere below, a street vendor called out the day’s specials, and the faint sound of children playing drifted in through the window.
“Mom would’ve loved this weather,” she murmured.
Haru nodded, leaning against the closet. “She always said Saturdays were for sunlight and laundry.”
Ayase smiled faintly. “And Dad said Saturdays were for naps and curry.”
They both laughed.
Hours later, after the cleaning was done, the apartment looked brighter.The floors gleamed, the curtains swayed gently, and the air felt lighter — not just from the open windows, but from the small relief of shared memories.
Haru ordered takeout while Souta sprawled on the couch, exhausted.Ayase stood by the balcony, sipping iced tea and gazing at the city below — the busy streets, the crowded trains, the people chasing dreams.
She wondered if her parents ever looked at Tokyo the same way — with hope, fear, and the quiet resolve to keep going.
Her thoughts drifted to her job, to the chaotic office of Eclipse, to Ren’s confident yet fragile eyes, to Kana’s teasing grin, to the way the entertainment world spun like a bright, dizzying carousel.She still wasn’t sure she belonged there.
But as she turned back and saw her brothers — Haru teasing Souta about his “cleaning skills,” Souta throwing a cushion in protest — she realized she had a reason to keep moving forward.
To build something new.To make them proud.To live brightly, even in the shadow of loss.
“Hey, sis,” Haru called, breaking her reverie. “What are you smiling at?”
Ayase blinked and grinned. “Nothing. Just thinking… we should go to the zoo again next week.”
Souta jumped up instantly. “Really?! Can we see the penguins this time?”
“Only if you help with dishes tonight,” she teased.
He groaned. “You’re evil sis!”
Ayase laughed, the sound carrying out into the fading afternoon light.The city hummed, the sun began to dip, and in the quiet warmth of their little apartment, the Fujimoto siblings felt — for the first time in a long time — at peace.
End of chapter 6