Chapter 23: “The Mothers Meet”

Rurika wished the hallway floor would open up and swallow her. Her face was still warm from the moment Kei picked up her dropped pen. She tried to steady her breathing, but her pulse kept racing.

And right then, her mother appeared.

Elegant. Perfect posture. A calm smile that was polite but sharp. She walked with quiet authority, heels clicking lightly against the hallway floor. One glance, and she seemed to judge every detail around her.

“Rurika,” her mother said, touching her daughter’s arm gently. “You’re standing here alone? You should be greeting your teachers.”

Rurika straightened without thinking. Old habit.

Before she could respond, her mother’s eyes drifted — and froze on Kei.

Her expression softened in a way Rurika barely recognized.

“Oh,” she murmured. “That must be Touko Nishima’s father.”

Yui stood beside him, beaming as she chatted with a teacher. Touko stayed close to Kei, fingers hooked around the edge of his sleeve like a quiet anchor.

Rurika’s mother didn’t hesitate.

She approached them with confident steps. Rurika followed, stomach tight.

“Good afternoon,” her mother said with a polite bow. “I’m Reika Hanabusa, Rurika’s mother.”

Yui smiled warmly. “Nice to meet you! I’m Yui Nishima. And this is my husband, Kei Nishima.”

Kei nodded. “Thank you for coming today.”

Reika Hanabusa offered him a gentle smile. “Your daughter is very well-mannered. And her grades are exceptional. You must be proud.”

Rurika stiffened.

Her mother had never spoken to her like that.

Kei rubbed his neck awkwardly. “Touko works hard.”

Yui laughed. “He’s being modest. He lectures both of us about homework.”

Touko quietly confirmed this with a small nod.

Then Reika Hanabusa turned to Touko—and her entire tone shifted, becoming warm and strangely tender.

“So you’re Touko,” she said. “You’re even more beautiful in person. I’ve heard wonderful things from your teachers.”

Touko bowed slightly. “Thank you very much, Hanabusa-san.”

Something inside Rurika twisted hard.

She couldn’t remember the last time her mother praised her that gently.

Reika continued, “You must make your parents very proud.”

Yui beamed. “She does. Touko is such a lovely girl.”

Touko lowered her eyes modestly.

Rurika stared at her mother, waiting—hoping—for her to look at her the same way.

She didn’t.

Kei glanced at Rurika then, with kind recognition. “Hanabusa-san helped clean the hallway last week. Touko told me she did a good job.”

Reika blinked in surprise. “Rurika? Cleaning duty?”

Rurika felt her temperature spike. “M-Mom, please—”

Kei smiled. “She was very dependable.”

Touko didn’t add anything—but she didn’t deny it either. She simply held her calm expression.

For a moment, Reika actually looked proud of Rurika. It was so rare that Rurika didn’t know what to do with the feeling.

But then her mother’s attention slid back to Kei.

“You live near the station, Nishima-san?” Reika asked lightly. “We’re near the east exit ourselves.”

Rurika’s breath caught.

The station. That night. The warmth of Kei’s hand as he shielded her.

Her mother had no idea.

Yui clapped her hands softly. “Would you like to join us while we visit Touko’s homeroom teacher?”

“That sounds nice,” Reika said. “Rurika, come.”

Rurika followed silently, her mind spinning.

Ahead of her, she watched Touko move closer to Kei. The girl didn’t cling, but she kept touching the side of his sleeve with two fingers — tiny gestures Rurika hadn’t noticed before today.

Kei didn’t react. Yui didn’t notice.

But Rurika did.

It was the gesture of someone who felt safe. Someone who felt claimed. Someone who believed she belonged at his side.

Rurika swallowed.

She wished she could feel that kind of safety.

Just once.

As the group walked down the hallway, Touko suddenly turned her head. Her eyes met Rurika’s.

Calm. Still. Focused.

Not angry. Not gloating.

Just aware.

It sent a small shiver through Rurika.

Reika kept talking to Kei and Yui with the bright, confident tone she always used in public. As always, Rurika trailed slightly behind, easily forgotten in the flow of adult conversation.

Touko kept watching her out of the corner of her eye.

And Rurika couldn’t shake the strange, frightening realization:

Touko wasn’t afraid of her.

She was watching her.

Guarding something.

Claiming something.

And Rurika suddenly understood why her chest felt so tight:

It wasn’t just that Touko was perfect.

It was that Touko had something Rurika desperately wanted—

Safety. Warmth. A parent who reached out without hesitation.

Kei.