Chapter 2: Three at the Table

Kei woke earlier than usual, hoping a productive morning would settle the strange feeling left from last night. Touko had disappeared down the hallway without another word, and he hadn’t heard her return to bed. Yui woke cheerful as always, unaware of anything unusual.

By evening, Kei decided to cook for the first time since moving in. He wanted to do something normal, something that made him feel grounded. He tied an apron around his waist and started chopping vegetables for a simple stir-fry.

Yui peeked into the kitchen. “Smells good already. Need help?”

He smiled. “Just sit. Enjoy the break. I’ve got this.”

Yui nodded and stepped out, humming softly. Kei felt his shoulders relax a little. Cooking always cleared his mind. He worked silently for a while—oil sizzling, garlic hitting the pan, vegetables tossed with rhythm. Simple. Familiar.

A soft sound made him glance to his left.

Touko was there. Again, not making a noise until she wanted him to notice her.

“Oh—Touko. I didn’t hear you come in,” Kei said.

She stepped closer, hands folded neatly. “What is Papa making?”

“Stir-fry. Something quick.” Kei gestured lightly. “You like vegetables, right?”

Touko nodded once. “I’ll eat whatever Papa makes.”

He tried to laugh it off. “I hope that’s a vote of confidence.”

Touko didn’t smile. “It’s a fact.”

She lingered there, watching him cook without blinking. Kei tried to ignore the weight of her gaze, but it made his hands feel clumsier. Every chop felt louder than it should.

“Why don’t you wait with your mom?” Kei suggested gently.

Touko didn’t move. “I want to watch Papa.”

Kei hesitated, then kept cooking. Yui eventually called her from the dining room, but Touko didn’t respond. She stayed until he plated the food.

Only then did she turn and walk to the table.

---

Dinner felt normal for the first thirty seconds. Yui smiled as she set down the water jug. Kei sat across from her, and Touko took the seat beside Yui.

But as soon as Kei lifted his chopsticks, Touko quietly pushed her chair back, stood up, and walked around the table.

Kei paused. “Touko…?”

She sat down directly beside him instead. Close enough that their elbows almost touched.

Yui blinked, surprised. “Sweetie? You want to sit next to Kei today?”

Touko nodded without looking away from Kei. “I want to eat with Papa.”

Kei forced a small smile. “Uh… sure.”

He picked up a piece of eggplant. The moment he did, Touko copied him. Same angle. Same fingers. Same timing.

He chewed. She chewed.

He sipped water. She sipped water.

He switched to rice with his left hand. She switched in perfect sync.

Kei’s skin prickled. This wasn’t shy behavior. This was imitation—too precise, too deliberate.

Yui noticed and let out a small laugh. “Touko, you’re matching him like a little sister copying her big brother.”

“It’s cute,” Yui added. “She’s warming up to you.”

Maybe from Yui’s perspective it was harmless. But sitting beside Touko, feeling her stare flick between his face and his hands, Kei couldn’t shake the sense that this wasn’t playful mimicry. It felt like she was studying him. Matching him. Testing how close she could get to being part of every action he made.

Kei set his chopsticks down slowly.

Touko did the same.

He crossed his arms.

Touko crossed hers.

Yui didn’t catch it. She was focused on talking about work.

“Kei, my colleague asked if you’d join us for dinner next week,” she said.

Kei nodded. “Sure. Sounds nice.”

Touko nodded too, silently.

Kei noticed it this time. She mirrored his small nod, not Yui’s comment. Not the conversation. Just him.

“So,” Yui continued, “Touko, how was school—”

Touko interrupted softly. “I like Papa’s cooking.”

Yui blinked, then smiled. “That’s sweet.”

Touko kept her eyes on Kei as she spoke. “I want him to cook every day.”

Kei cleared his throat lightly. “We can take turns, Touko. Your mom’s cooking is great too.”

Touko paused for a long moment before replying. “I like Papa’s food more.”

Yui laughed again, but Kei felt trapped in his seat. Touko was close enough that he could feel the warmth from her shoulder, even though she sat very still.

He ate slowly, trying to ignore the constant mirroring. But it didn’t stop. Not for a moment.

When dinner ended, Touko stood up at the same time he did. She stacked her plate exactly how he stacked his. When he reached for the sink, she reached too, making their hands brush. Touko froze when they touched.

Kei stepped back quickly. “I’ll wash these. You two relax.”

Touko didn’t move for a second. Then she quietly walked away.

But she didn’t go far.

Kei could feel her presence behind him as he washed dishes, though she didn’t speak. Just stood there, watching the water run over his hands.

He forced himself to stay calm. “Touko… are you okay?”

She didn’t answer at first. Then she said, “You didn’t finish your water.”

He blinked. “Oh. That’s fine. I’m full.”

Touko stared a little longer. “Papa should finish what he starts.”

Kei didn’t reply. He didn’t know how to.

---

Later that night, after Yui fell asleep, Kei went to brush his teeth. It had been a long day. He hoped rinsing his mouth would wash away the lingering discomfort.

He reached for his toothbrush.

It was wet.

Very wet.

Still dripping.

Kei froze.

He hadn’t used it today.

Slowly, he looked at the bathroom door. It was open a crack. Just like his bedroom door had been last night.

A faint sound echoed from down the hallway.

Soft footsteps.

Not hurried.

Not sneaky.

Just slow.

Measured.

Like someone wasn’t afraid to be heard.