Chapter 23: The Father Who Doesn’t Forgive Easily

Ren Aoki never liked visiting people unannounced.

Especially not the father of the girl he once married.

Especially not the man who looked at him like he wasn’t good enough even in the first timeline.

But Mina didn’t let him escape.

“You’re coming,” she said, pushing his back. “Yuki forgot her sketchbook in the clubroom. Her dad’s shop is on your way home.”

Haru chimed in, “It’ll build character.”

“It’ll build anxiety,” Ren muttered.

And yet… he went.

Because Yuki had been acting different lately.

Softer.

More thoughtful.

But also more weighed down.

And after what he felt — the fireworks, the lake, the hot spring chaos — he couldn’t pretend he didn’t care.

---

Yuki’s family-owned bicycle repair shop sat on a quiet street.

Wind chimes rang softly above the door.

Ren stood outside for a full minute.

He inhaled. Exhaled.

Told himself he was seventeen, not twenty-eight.

Told himself this man didn’t know he had once hurt his daughter.

…yet.

He stepped inside.

The smell of oil and old metal filled the air.

Behind the counter stood Harada Satoshi, tall, stern, and wearing glasses that made him look even harder to read.

He looked up with a neutral expression.

Ren bowed quickly. “G-good evening. I’m here to return Yuki’s sketchbook.”

Satoshi said nothing at first.

Just walked closer, eyes steady and sharp.

Finally—

“You’re Aoki Ren,” he said.

Not a question.

A fact.

Ren stiffened. “Yes, sir.”

Satoshi wiped his hands on a cloth, studying him much too carefully.

“You’ve been around my daughter a lot recently.”

Ren swallowed.

Of course he noticed.

“Yes, sir.”

“Why?”

The question hit harder than Ren expected.

Why?

Because he loved her once.

Because he loved her still.

Because he didn’t know how to stop.

But he couldn’t say any of that.

“We’re… classmates,” he managed. “We work together sometimes. She’s very talented.”

Satoshi’s expression didn’t change.

But he didn’t blink either, which was worse.

“You talk like an adult,” Satoshi said.

Ren’s stomach dropped.

Did he notice something?

Was he suspicious?

“No, sir. I—I mean, yes sir. Um—”

Satoshi lifted a hand. “Relax. I meant it as a compliment.”

Ren nearly collapsed from relief.

---

Satoshi turned and walked to a half-repaired bicycle.

“Give me that wrench.”

Ren handed it over quickly.

Satoshi worked in silence.

The sound of metal clicking filled the room.

Then—

“Yuki lost her confidence last year,” Satoshi said quietly.

“She stopped drawing. Stopped smiling.”

Ren froze.

“She said she wasn’t good enough. That she ruined things.”

Ren’s chest tightened.

Because in the old timeline, Yuki had said the same words during their worst fights:

I’m not good enough for you.

Everything I do is wrong.

I’m tired, Ren. I’m so tired.

He’d thought it was stress.

Overworking.

Postpartum exhaustion.

He hadn’t realized it was fear.

Satoshi finally looked at him.

“If you’re the reason she’s smiling again, then… thank you.”

Ren swallowed hard.

“I—sir, I don’t think it’s because of me. She’s finding herself again. She’s working hard.”

Satoshi gave him a long, unreadable stare.

“Maybe,” he said.

“Or maybe you’re both pretending not to see what’s already happening.”

Ren almost choked on air.

Satoshi wiped his hands and pointed at the door.

“Go. You’ve been standing stiff like a scared deer.”

Ren bowed so fast he nearly hit his face on the counter.

“Thank you for your time, sir!”

“Bring her sketchbook,” Satoshi reminded.

Ren lifted it high, embarrassed. “Yes sir—! Sorry!”

---

Ren walked out of the shop into the evening air, heart still pounding.

He didn’t expect Satoshi to thank him.

Not in this timeline.

Not in any.

The man who used to glare at him during family visits

who sighed whenever Ren struggled

who once said quietly,

"Love isn’t enough if you don’t communicate"

actually spoke to him gently.

Ren didn’t know how to process that.

He leaned against a street pole, trying to calm his breathing.

Then—

Chime.

Soft.

Echoing.

Rippling through the air like a stone dropped into water.

Ren froze.

Again?

The same sound that had rung when he and Yuki talked on the rooftop.

When he remembered the old timeline.

When Yuki met his mother.

The wind shifted.

A store sign flickered twice.

A cyclist passing by shivered.

The air shimmered for a heartbeat.

Something changed.

Their second chance was rewriting more than memories now.

It was moving the world around them.

---

Footsteps approached.

“Ren?”

He turned.

Yuki stood there in a white cardigan, breathless from running.

“You weren’t answering your phone,” she said, hands on her knees.

“Did my dad give you a hard time?”

Ren stared at her.

He didn’t know what to say.

She looked so real.

So present.

So gentle.

So different from the tired woman he once lost.

And after hearing her father’s words…

After realizing she had been hurting longer than he understood…

His chest ached.

“Yuki,” he said quietly.

She blinked. “Huh?”

He stepped closer, holding out her sketchbook.

“You’re doing great,” he said. “Really. Better than you think.”

Yuki froze.

Her eyes widened.

Her breath hitched.

For a moment, she looked like she might cry.

“Ren…” she whispered. “Why are you saying that all of a sudden?”

He shook his head with a small smile.

“Your dad told me. You used to doubt yourself. You don’t have to.”

Yuki looked down, cheeks warm.

“I… see.”

They stood there, too close, too quiet.

The street was nearly empty.

The sunset painted them orange.

The world felt gentle.

Then Yuki said softly:

“My dad usually hates anyone who gets close to me. But he likes you.”

Ren blinked. “He WHAT—?!”

Yuki laughed before she could stop herself.

The timeline might have been shifting.

The world might have been waiting.

But for this moment—

they were simply Ren and Yuki.

Two people trying to learn how to love without breaking again.