Chapter 6: Yui Doesn’t See It

“Yui, we need to talk about Touko.”

Kei didn’t plan to say it over breakfast, but the words slipped out before he could stop them. He sat across from her at the dining table while Touko was getting ready upstairs. The morning light looked softer than usual, almost too calm for what he wanted to say.

Yui paused mid-sip of her tea. “Did something happen?”

Kei hesitated. He didn’t want to start a fight. He only wanted her to understand. But the memory of last night—the footsteps, the door, Touko’s voice—lingered like a cold hand on his back.

“She’s been acting… strange,” he said carefully. “Following me at night. Standing in the hallway. Watching.”

Yui blinked, surprise flickering across her tired face. “Watching?”

“Yes. At the door. Every night for almost a week. And she—” Kei swallowed. “She said I shouldn’t lock the door in case she needs me.”

Yui set her cup down with a soft clink. For a moment, she didn’t say anything. She rubbed her brow, looking older than she usually did.

“Kei,” she said gently, “Touko went through a lot before you came. She still gets anxious at night. Maybe she’s afraid of losing people again.”

“That’s not what this is,” Kei said. He tried to stay calm, but frustration seeped in. “This isn’t normal anxiety. She watches me. At the door. Just stands there.”

Yui gave a small sigh. “I’m sorry. I really am. I’ll talk to her. But Kei, she just needs time. You’re new in her life. She’s trying to adjust.”

He searched her face, trying to read the truth behind her tone. It wasn’t dismissive—Yui wasn’t like that—but she looked worn out. Stretched thin. Almost as if she had seen something but didn’t want to face it.

“Have you noticed anything?” he asked quietly.

Yui’s eyes shifted. “No. Nothing like what you’re describing.”

But the way she said it didn’t sound sure. It sounded like she was choosing her words.

Kei leaned forward. “Yui… I’m not trying to blame her. I just want you to see what’s happening.”

She nodded slowly. “I know. And thank you for telling me.”

But the tiredness in her voice drowned the reassurance.

Footsteps padded softly down the stairs.

Yui straightened immediately, forcing a small smile onto her face. Touko stepped into the dining room wearing her school uniform, hair neatly tied. She looked like the perfect, well-mannered daughter.

“Good morning,” she said sweetly.

Kei felt the shift instantly—Touko’s sweetness wasn’t natural. It was a performance. A careful one.

Yui brightened. “Morning, honey. Did you sleep well?”

“Yes,” Touko said, sliding into the chair beside her mother. Her eyes flicked to Kei for half a second. Her smile didn’t change, but something inside it sharpened.

“I always sleep well,” she added.

Kei looked away.

“I made miso soup,” Yui said, trying to smooth the atmosphere. “Sit down, Kei.”

Touko picked up her spoon and began mimicking Yui’s motions. Every movement precise. Kei watched quietly, noticing the pattern again—the way Touko’s eyes occasionally darted to him, checking his reactions, adjusting her behavior.

She was performing for an audience.

And Yui didn’t see it at all.

“Papa,” Touko said suddenly.

Kei stiffened. Yui didn’t. She only smiled softly.

“Yes?” he asked.

“Thank you for checking on me last night,” she said in a warm, innocent tone.

Kei nearly choked. “Touko, you were the one—”

“I couldn’t sleep,” she continued, cutting him off. “I thought I heard something. And Papa opened the door to make sure I was okay.”

Yui looked at Kei with a relieved smile. “That was kind of you.”

Kei stared at Touko. She stared right back, smile unbroken.

She had turned the story upside down in two sentences.

“Kei,” Yui said softly, “this is what I meant. She appreciates you. Maybe she really is just trying.”

Touko leaned her head against Yui’s shoulder, her eyes never leaving Kei.

“I like Papa,” she murmured. “I want him to feel comfortable here.”

Kei’s throat went dry. There was no way to argue without sounding irrational. No way to tell Yui the sweetness was a mask.

Touko had made him the unreasonable one without lifting a finger.

---

Yui left for work early. Touko left for school soon after. The house finally went quiet.

Kei cleaned the table, washed the dishes, and tried to shake off the uneasy feeling curling in his chest. He needed fresh air. Something normal. Something steady.

He headed toward the living room to grab his jacket, passing by Touko’s room on the way.

The door was slightly open.

Kei paused.

He didn’t want to invade her privacy. He wasn’t that kind of person. But something compelled him—maybe fear, maybe instinct.

He stepped closer and saw a sketchbook lying open on her desk.

His breath caught.

The drawing showed two figures.

Touko—smiling. Holding someone’s hand.

The other figure was him.

But he wasn’t standing.

He was on his knees, head lowered.

Blood dripped from his chest, pooling under him.

Touko’s hand gripped his tightly, her smile wide and calm.

Above the picture, written in small neat letters:

“I won’t let you leave.”

Kei’s stomach twisted.

He stepped back from the doorway, hands trembling.

Yui didn’t see it.

Or maybe… she didn’t want to.