Chapter 9:
Chapter 7: A Veil of Boundless Constraint
Ode to the Solstice Bloom (Natsu no Hanauta)
✿———✦———✿
“With every eventide that falleth upon the world, I feel as though the sun and the earth wage a silent war, leaving me but a forgotten shadow betwixt their strife.”
The darkness of night had already veiled the city of Kobe as I stepped out of the office. The clock upon my wrist showed 11:20 at night—far later than I had hoped. Once again, I returned home late, and within my mind, the image of Chinatsu’s face flickered unbidden. I knew well she would be worried by now. Whenever I returned home at such an hour, guilt would slowly seep into my heart—yet my duties could not simply be abandoned.
“Kazu, what do you think about the transition effect in this episode? I think there's a slight lag at the seventeenth frame,” Yorishiro said—my childhood friend and the finest programmer ever employed at this company. He was not merely a colleague but a companion from elementary school all the way through university. Often did we work together into the late hours of night, speaking of algorithms, games, and animation projects such as this one.
I nodded gently, though my thoughts drifted afar. “Aye, mayhap we must adjust the render pipeline somewhat there. I shall look over it anon.”
Beside him walked Yukifuyu, hands tucked casually into the pockets of her jacket. She was an intern who had joined naught but three weeks ago, yet her talent had far surpassed expectation. Though young, she possessed a keen understanding of animation design and programming, and she had been involved with the Taiyoutenshi project since the very first day. She assisted Yorishiro with coding and debugging, and her skill was truly commendable.
Yorishiro turned to her with praise. “Thanks for your help earlier, Yukifuyu. Without you, I’d still be stuck on that bug.”
Yukifuyu offered a small smile, as though such feats were ordinary to her. “I–I’m glad I could help, Yorishiro-san… and I learned a lot from you all, really.”
“Anyway. I’m gonna be honest, the animation from that other studio is terrible this time.”
“Right? I knew you’d notice too, Yorishiro-san. You must be one of the fans of that series.”
“I read the manga as well. If I were working there, I’d remake the final scene… or perhaps the entire disappointing storyline.”
“E–Ehehe. You’d be called the God of Time in that fandom if you really changed it like that!”
I turned toward them. “God of Time? Thou meanest an entity who may alter time and fate itself. ’Tis a strange title,” I murmured.
“It’s not strange!” they both answered at once, continuing their lively conversation.
I merely listened from behind, my mind wandering back to Chinatsu. Ever since Yukifuyu joined, I had oft returned home late—not solely due to an increased workload, but because we frequently held meetings outside the office, sometimes at restaurants, sometimes at Yorishiro’s home. Though I knew Chinatsu might feel troubled by this, I had no intent of hurting her heart. All was for the sake of our work.
With Yorishiro and Hayashi Yukifuyu by my side, we had just concluded the final meeting of the day. The three of us formed the core of a small special-production team responsible for the most crucial aspects of our grand project—*Taiyoutenshi*, an animation poised to become the pride of Tsukiji Animation Studio.
As the lead character designer, I ensured that each character bore a strong visual identity, and I watched over even the smallest details in every expression and movement. I also handled VFX and oft participated in storyboarding with Yorishiro, ensuring the visual elements aligned with the tale. Many of the most meticulous tasks fell into my hands.
Yukifuyu, beyond rendering and debugging, also crafted the outfits worn by each character in every episode. From clothing to accessories, she ensured each design suited the mood of the scene and matched the story’s progression. Her attention to detail breathed life into the cast.
Meanwhile, Yorishiro ensured the story remained coherent and emotionally resonant. Though not his field, he wished to learn and broaden his experience. As the one responsible for the storyboard and scenario, he ensured each scene flowed properly and conveyed the intended emotion.
Though our team was small, our role in *Taiyoutenshi* was vital. Other teams managed main animation, music, and voice acting, but in our hands lay the characters, the atmosphere, and the emotional depth of the tale.
For context: the animation told the journey of the sun god who sought to alter the fate of the world. This was no ordinary project—indeed, it was among my greatest challenges as CTO.
“A sun god, hmm?” I murmured.
Though it was early still, seeing our dedication gave me faith that *Taiyoutenshi* would become a work worthy of pride.
Three weeks had passed since Yukifuyu’s arrival, and my life had grown busier than before. Each day was filled with meetings, discussions, and technical issues to resolve. I spent nearly all my time with Yukifuyu and Yorishiro. Not because I sought distance from Chinatsu, but because the demands of the project left me with little time for anything else.
“Let’s work at my place again tomorrow, Kazu. It’s more relaxed—we can watch the rendered scenes while having dinner,” Yorishiro suggested one night after we finished eating at his favorite restaurant. I often agreed, for working in a more casual environment helped clear the mind. And Yukifuyu, of course, always joined us as an essential part of the team.
✿———✦———✿
One night at Yorishiro’s house, after hours spent on coding and debugging, I felt my phone vibrate. A message from Chinatsu appeared:
“Kazu, what time you comin home tonight? I’ve been waitin'.”
I drew a long breath. It was nearly midnight, and we were far from finishing. Guilt gnawed at me for keeping her waiting again. I replied quickly:
“Forgive me, Chinatsu. I shall not be done for another hour or two. Pray rest first; I shall return quietly.”
After sending it, I tried to focus once more, though guilt lingered heavily. She knew I was busy, yet she also knew I was not one who could toil endlessly without rest.
As I worked, my gaze drifted to Yukifuyu at the nearby table, sketching costume designs with deep concentration. Her pencil strokes curved downward, tilting more and more as though sliding off a cliff. I could not restrain a quiet laugh.
She looked up, startled. “Um… K-Kazuaki-san? Why’re you laughing?” she asked defensively, though her nervous smile betrayed her embarrassment.
“Ah, ’tis naught,” I replied swiftly, pretending to return to my code though my eyes remained upon her slanted notes.
She soon noticed her own writing and flushed bright red. “Ah… yeah, I guess this needs revision, hehe. Why’s it slanting like this? Did I drink too much coffee?”
“Mayhap thou shouldst rest a moment, Yukifuyu,” I said, struggling not to laugh.
She scratched her head. “Yeah… maybe you’re right. This looks like someone’s confused diary now.”
We both laughed, the tension fading for a brief, pleasant moment.
✿———✦———✿
The next morning, I found Chinatsu already awake, preparing tea as usual. Her eyes held worry, though she spoke it not.
“Sorry I came home late again,” I said, sitting at the kitchen table.
Chinatsu offered a small smile that did not reach her eyes.“Ain’t no problem… I know you’re busy, Kazu. I just hope you ain’t pushin' yourself too hard.”
I nodded. “I shall attempt to manage my time better. When Taiyoutenshi is complete, things shall calm.”
She poured tea into my cup and leaned on the table.“Mm-hmm… I just don’t get it sometimes. Your job’s that heavy till I barely see you at home?”
I chuckled softly. “Indeed, there is much to be done ere the launch of this great project.”
Her eyebrow lifted slightly. “Uh-huh. Your team must be real close, huh? Close enough to forget the time?”
I nodded again, unaware of her deeper meaning. “Aye, we labor diligently. Each member doth their utmost.”
“Hmmm… yeah, I get it.” She sipped her tea, giving me a sideways look.“Specially when you’re always up talkin' late at night… prob’ly discussin' ideas or somethin', huh?”
“Truly. Discussions oft grow lengthy when ensuring every detail is right.”
Chinatsu sighed softly, still smiling.“Yeah. Makes sense. Must be real fun at the studio. Real comfortin', maybe?”
“Comforting?” I furrowed my brow slightly. “Nay, ’tis not like that, Chinatsu. The labor is simply heavy. We oft speak until midnight—that is all…”
She bit her lip, nodding. “Mm-hmm… sure. It’s just… the house gets real quiet, you stay longer at work… and you ain’t exactly alone there, right?”
Still oblivious, I answered, “Aye, the team works diligently. Especially those who oft work closely with me—like Yorishiro and Yukifuyu.”
She stared at me before clicking her tongue softly.“Y–Yukifuyu again—ah, I mean… sounds like your team’s real nice. So you ain’t lonely there, huh?”
At last I recognized the jealousy hidden in her eyes.“Forgive me, Chinatsu. I did not mean to leave thee alone. When this project ends, I shall be home more oft.”
“Yeah, well… then hurry up and finish it, Kazu,” she muttered, sipping her tea with her eyes lowered. “Cause I ain’t like them, y’know? I can’t just wait for you anytime.”
Though she said no more, I could feel the ache behind her words.
✿———✦———✿
Several days later, Yorishiro and I were still finalizing an episode. Yukifuyu grew more comfortable, helping with debugging and scene refinement. We often ate together, though I kept things strictly professional.
That night I worked before the computer, finishing the episode’s final touches. Beside me, Yukifuyu focused on her laptop with unflagging dedication.
“Is aught left to amend?” I asked calmly.
She studied the screen. “I think it’s mostly done… but maybe this transition could be smoother.” She pointed.
I nodded. “Aye, thou art right. Smooth it a little more, that it may flow better.”
Suddenly, Yorishiro emerged from the kitchen with three cups of coffee. “Drink up. You’ll need the energy.”
I accepted mine and sipped. “My thanks, Yorishiro.”
We sat in companionable silence, the room filled only with the hum of computers.
After a moment, Yukifuyu resumed her work with quiet focus. From the corner of my eye, I watched her dedication.
“If thou art weary, rest for a while,” I said softly. “There is no need to force thyself.”
Yukifuyu looked up and smiled faintly. “It’s fine. I kinda like doing this. It’s fun… and I learn a lot.”
I simply nodded, choosing not to say more.
✿———✦———✿
The next day, we returned to work until late into the night. Yukifuyu sat beside me, carefully checking each frame, while Yorishiro had fallen asleep on the sofa behind us. When I finally felt the episode was satisfactory, I spoke without taking my eyes off the screen.
“I deem this work hath reached its completion.”
Yukifuyu turned, offering a small, tired smile. “Finally… This collaboration’s been really fun, though it’s exhausting too.”
I nodded, letting a faint smile slip. “Thy craftsmanship is splendid, Yukifuyu. The details present themselves neat and fine.”
“Eh, Kazuaki-san… sometimes I wonder, am I actually keeping up with you two? I mean, you and Yorishiro are both so skilled. I feel like I’m still far below your level…”
I looked at her, keeping my tone calm and reassuring.“Think not such thoughts. Thou hast given thy utmost, and that alone be of greatest worth.”
She smiled softly, her confidence returning. “Thanks, Kazuaki-san. Sometimes I just… need time to adapt, you know?”
We sank back into work, comfortable in the quiet that settled between us. Even though I knew there were boundaries to maintain, a new awareness began to surface—this working relationship was affecting the balance I had worked so hard to preserve.
At some point, I realized that Chinatsu and I had begun spending far less time together than before. Long nights at the office or at Yorishiro’s home were slowly taking over. I knew it wasn’t a big issue yet, but the strange feeling lingering in me was hard to ignore. Something was shifting—not in my feelings for Chinatsu, but in the dynamics forming between me, Yukifuyu, and Chinatsu.
Was she jealous?
I needed to find a way to steady everything before it became more complicated.
When I arrived at the apartment, the clock showed 11:20 PM. The lights in the living room were off, but on the sofa I saw a silhouette—Chinatsu—fast asleep while hugging a pillow. Her face looked peaceful, though I knew she likely hadn’t slept well waiting for me.
I sat beside her, guilt washing over me once again for making her wait. I touched her shoulder gently, trying to wake her.
“Chinatsu… I hath returned home.”
She slowly opened her eyes, fatigue evident on her face. She wasn’t angry, yet I knew she carried her own worries.
“You’re late again, huh?” she whispered, her voice soft and concerned.
I nodded. “Forgive me. This project devoureth more time than I had foreseen.”
Chinatsu straightened herself, looking at me with questioning eyes.“I know you’re busy, Kazu… but lately I feel like we’re gettin’ farther apart. Every time you come home, it feels like there’s somethin’ you ain’t tellin’ me.”
I lowered my head, searching for the right words. I wanted to be honest, but I didn’t want to worry her further.
“’Tis naught but work, dear Chinatsu. Yukifuyu oft labors with me and Yorishiro, yet there lies naught between her and I. Thou knowest this, dost thou not?”
She sighed, relief touching her expression though a trace of doubt remained.“I wanna believe ya, Kazu… but sometimes it feels like there’s a wall between us.”
I reached for her hand, hoping to reassure her.“No wall standeth between us, Chinatsu. I remain here—with thee. Thou art the most precious soul in my life. Once this toil is done, more time shall I devote unto us.”
She offered a faint smile, though both of us knew we still had work to do to mend the growing distance. I could only hope that once the storm of work passed, our bond would return to what it once was—perhaps even stronger.
Suddenly, as I glanced around the room, my eyes caught sight of something tucked under the other sofa. Something hidden away. I stepped closer, intending to look more carefully, but Chinatsu noticed immediately. She hurried over, almost desperately, as if trying to block my view.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, suspicion rising in my voice.
Chinatsu shook her head quickly, clearly nervous. She grabbed my hand gently, guiding me toward the bedroom.“C’mon, let’s just go to the room first,” she said, her voice slightly rushed.
But I stopped her, still curious.“Fear not—I shall not be wrathful. Simply show me.”
She looked at me, hesitant, as though wanting to confess something but held back by her stubborn pride. Taking a deep breath, she finally asked, “Ya promise you ain’t gonna get mad?”
“Aye. I give thee my word.”
Nervously, she bent down and pulled out the hidden object.
It was my laptop—its screen cracked, as if stepped on or dropped. Chinatsu looked startled and slightly afraid, but I simply sighed and smiled.
“Worry not,” I said gently. “Such things may yet be mended.”
I picked up the laptop and brought it to my workshop table.
As a CTO and informatics graduate, this was no small matter—yet I knew exactly what to do. I opened the drawer and retrieved a spare screen I had kept for emergencies.
Chinatsu stood beside me, awe flickering across her face.“Wow… ya even had a spare screen?! That’s real cool. You can fix all sorta laptop stuff, huh?”
“… Indeed. And why dost thou ask?”
“Nothin’… I was thinkin’ of takin’ it to a repair shop ‘n all… I know you can fix things but I got scared, and turns out you’re like—super professional at this!”
I smiled lightly while arranging my tools.“’Tis but a simple task requiring little more than care and precision.”
Chinatsu watched, still impressed despite her attempts to act casual.
With patience, I opened the casing and began examining the cracked display. My hands moved swiftly, steady and sure, though my mind remained calm. Chinatsu stood close, watching every motion, pretending to be uninterested but unable to hide her curiosity.
As I focused on the screen, I noticed something distracting—Chinatsu’s usually tidy hair was messy, probably from just waking up. Several strands fell over her face. Without thinking too deeply, I reached over and gently brushed them aside.
“Thy hair hath grown a little untamed,” I murmured, as though making a simple observation.
Chinatsu froze, a faint blush touching her cheeks. She quickly fixed her hair and looked away.“It ain’t messy… it's fine,” she muttered, avoiding eye contact.
I smiled faintly and returned to my work. Yet curiosity nudged me.“Earlier thou didst say the device had fallen. From whence did this fall occur?”
Chinatsu paused, choosing her words carefully.“From the table… yeah, from the table.”
I said nothing outwardly, though something felt off. Still, I didn’t want to press her.“Ah, from the table. Not normal but very well.”
I resumed my work, installing the replacement screen. Chinatsu stood closer now, completely absorbed, even if she tried to mask it.
“Wow, ya can really do all that? That’s… real fancy. Kinda cool,” she said, trying to sound casual yet still impressed.
I lifted a shoulder.“’Tis no great feat.”
She exhaled softly, still amazed but trying not to show it.“Yeah, yeah… I get it. Still cool, though.”
When I finally secured the last screw, the new screen fit perfectly. I felt satisfied.
“Pray, let it not suffer damage again,” I said, turning toward her with a calm gaze.
Chinatsu nodded softly, her smile gentler now, cheeks faintly flushed.“O-Okay…”
I returned the laptop to the shelf beside my desk. Chinatsu sat down next to me, quieter than before. We both fell silent—yet it was a comfortable silence.
“With every eventide that falleth upon the world, I feel as though the sun and the earth wage a silent war, leaving me but a forgotten shadow betwixt their strife.”
The darkness of night had already veiled the city of Kobe as I stepped out of the office. The clock upon my wrist showed 11:20 at night—far later than I had hoped. Once again, I returned home late, and within my mind, the image of Chinatsu’s face flickered unbidden. I knew well she would be worried by now. Whenever I returned home at such an hour, guilt would slowly seep into my heart—yet my duties could not simply be abandoned.
“Kazu, what do you think about the transition effect in this episode? I think there's a slight lag at the seventeenth frame,” Yorishiro said—my childhood friend and the finest programmer ever employed at this company. He was not merely a colleague but a companion from elementary school all the way through university. Often did we work together into the late hours of night, speaking of algorithms, games, and animation projects such as this one.
I nodded gently, though my thoughts drifted afar. “Aye, mayhap we must adjust the render pipeline somewhat there. I shall look over it anon.”
Beside him walked Yukifuyu, hands tucked casually into the pockets of her jacket. She was an intern who had joined naught but three weeks ago, yet her talent had far surpassed expectation. Though young, she possessed a keen understanding of animation design and programming, and she had been involved with the Taiyoutenshi project since the very first day. She assisted Yorishiro with coding and debugging, and her skill was truly commendable.
Yorishiro turned to her with praise. “Thanks for your help earlier, Yukifuyu. Without you, I’d still be stuck on that bug.”
Yukifuyu offered a small smile, as though such feats were ordinary to her. “I–I’m glad I could help, Yorishiro-san… and I learned a lot from you all, really.”
“Anyway. I’m gonna be honest, the animation from that other studio is terrible this time.”
“Right? I knew you’d notice too, Yorishiro-san. You must be one of the fans of that series.”
“I read the manga as well. If I were working there, I’d remake the final scene… or perhaps the entire disappointing storyline.”
“E–Ehehe. You’d be called the God of Time in that fandom if you really changed it like that!”
I turned toward them. “God of Time? Thou meanest an entity who may alter time and fate itself. ’Tis a strange title,” I murmured.
“It’s not strange!” they both answered at once, continuing their lively conversation.
I merely listened from behind, my mind wandering back to Chinatsu. Ever since Yukifuyu joined, I had oft returned home late—not solely due to an increased workload, but because we frequently held meetings outside the office, sometimes at restaurants, sometimes at Yorishiro’s home. Though I knew Chinatsu might feel troubled by this, I had no intent of hurting her heart. All was for the sake of our work.
With Yorishiro and Hayashi Yukifuyu by my side, we had just concluded the final meeting of the day. The three of us formed the core of a small special-production team responsible for the most crucial aspects of our grand project—*Taiyoutenshi*, an animation poised to become the pride of Tsukiji Animation Studio.
As the lead character designer, I ensured that each character bore a strong visual identity, and I watched over even the smallest details in every expression and movement. I also handled VFX and oft participated in storyboarding with Yorishiro, ensuring the visual elements aligned with the tale. Many of the most meticulous tasks fell into my hands.
Yukifuyu, beyond rendering and debugging, also crafted the outfits worn by each character in every episode. From clothing to accessories, she ensured each design suited the mood of the scene and matched the story’s progression. Her attention to detail breathed life into the cast.
Meanwhile, Yorishiro ensured the story remained coherent and emotionally resonant. Though not his field, he wished to learn and broaden his experience. As the one responsible for the storyboard and scenario, he ensured each scene flowed properly and conveyed the intended emotion.
Though our team was small, our role in *Taiyoutenshi* was vital. Other teams managed main animation, music, and voice acting, but in our hands lay the characters, the atmosphere, and the emotional depth of the tale.
For context: the animation told the journey of the sun god who sought to alter the fate of the world. This was no ordinary project—indeed, it was among my greatest challenges as CTO.
“A sun god, hmm?” I murmured.
Though it was early still, seeing our dedication gave me faith that *Taiyoutenshi* would become a work worthy of pride.
Three weeks had passed since Yukifuyu’s arrival, and my life had grown busier than before. Each day was filled with meetings, discussions, and technical issues to resolve. I spent nearly all my time with Yukifuyu and Yorishiro. Not because I sought distance from Chinatsu, but because the demands of the project left me with little time for anything else.
“Let’s work at my place again tomorrow, Kazu. It’s more relaxed—we can watch the rendered scenes while having dinner,” Yorishiro suggested one night after we finished eating at his favorite restaurant. I often agreed, for working in a more casual environment helped clear the mind. And Yukifuyu, of course, always joined us as an essential part of the team.
✿———✦———✿
One night at Yorishiro’s house, after hours spent on coding and debugging, I felt my phone vibrate. A message from Chinatsu appeared:
“Kazu, what time you comin home tonight? I’ve been waitin'.”
I drew a long breath. It was nearly midnight, and we were far from finishing. Guilt gnawed at me for keeping her waiting again. I replied quickly:
“Forgive me, Chinatsu. I shall not be done for another hour or two. Pray rest first; I shall return quietly.”
After sending it, I tried to focus once more, though guilt lingered heavily. She knew I was busy, yet she also knew I was not one who could toil endlessly without rest.
As I worked, my gaze drifted to Yukifuyu at the nearby table, sketching costume designs with deep concentration. Her pencil strokes curved downward, tilting more and more as though sliding off a cliff. I could not restrain a quiet laugh.
She looked up, startled. “Um… K-Kazuaki-san? Why’re you laughing?” she asked defensively, though her nervous smile betrayed her embarrassment.
“Ah, ’tis naught,” I replied swiftly, pretending to return to my code though my eyes remained upon her slanted notes.
She soon noticed her own writing and flushed bright red. “Ah… yeah, I guess this needs revision, hehe. Why’s it slanting like this? Did I drink too much coffee?”
“Mayhap thou shouldst rest a moment, Yukifuyu,” I said, struggling not to laugh.
She scratched her head. “Yeah… maybe you’re right. This looks like someone’s confused diary now.”
We both laughed, the tension fading for a brief, pleasant moment.
✿———✦———✿
The next morning, I found Chinatsu already awake, preparing tea as usual. Her eyes held worry, though she spoke it not.
“Sorry I came home late again,” I said, sitting at the kitchen table.
Chinatsu offered a small smile that did not reach her eyes.“Ain’t no problem… I know you’re busy, Kazu. I just hope you ain’t pushin' yourself too hard.”
I nodded. “I shall attempt to manage my time better. When Taiyoutenshi is complete, things shall calm.”
She poured tea into my cup and leaned on the table.“Mm-hmm… I just don’t get it sometimes. Your job’s that heavy till I barely see you at home?”
I chuckled softly. “Indeed, there is much to be done ere the launch of this great project.”
Her eyebrow lifted slightly. “Uh-huh. Your team must be real close, huh? Close enough to forget the time?”
I nodded again, unaware of her deeper meaning. “Aye, we labor diligently. Each member doth their utmost.”
“Hmmm… yeah, I get it.” She sipped her tea, giving me a sideways look.“Specially when you’re always up talkin' late at night… prob’ly discussin' ideas or somethin', huh?”
“Truly. Discussions oft grow lengthy when ensuring every detail is right.”
Chinatsu sighed softly, still smiling.“Yeah. Makes sense. Must be real fun at the studio. Real comfortin', maybe?”
“Comforting?” I furrowed my brow slightly. “Nay, ’tis not like that, Chinatsu. The labor is simply heavy. We oft speak until midnight—that is all…”
She bit her lip, nodding. “Mm-hmm… sure. It’s just… the house gets real quiet, you stay longer at work… and you ain’t exactly alone there, right?”
Still oblivious, I answered, “Aye, the team works diligently. Especially those who oft work closely with me—like Yorishiro and Yukifuyu.”
She stared at me before clicking her tongue softly.“Y–Yukifuyu again—ah, I mean… sounds like your team’s real nice. So you ain’t lonely there, huh?”
At last I recognized the jealousy hidden in her eyes.“Forgive me, Chinatsu. I did not mean to leave thee alone. When this project ends, I shall be home more oft.”
“Yeah, well… then hurry up and finish it, Kazu,” she muttered, sipping her tea with her eyes lowered. “Cause I ain’t like them, y’know? I can’t just wait for you anytime.”
Though she said no more, I could feel the ache behind her words.
✿———✦———✿
Several days later, Yorishiro and I were still finalizing an episode. Yukifuyu grew more comfortable, helping with debugging and scene refinement. We often ate together, though I kept things strictly professional.
That night I worked before the computer, finishing the episode’s final touches. Beside me, Yukifuyu focused on her laptop with unflagging dedication.
“Is aught left to amend?” I asked calmly.
She studied the screen. “I think it’s mostly done… but maybe this transition could be smoother.” She pointed.
I nodded. “Aye, thou art right. Smooth it a little more, that it may flow better.”
Suddenly, Yorishiro emerged from the kitchen with three cups of coffee. “Drink up. You’ll need the energy.”
I accepted mine and sipped. “My thanks, Yorishiro.”
We sat in companionable silence, the room filled only with the hum of computers.
After a moment, Yukifuyu resumed her work with quiet focus. From the corner of my eye, I watched her dedication.
“If thou art weary, rest for a while,” I said softly. “There is no need to force thyself.”
Yukifuyu looked up and smiled faintly. “It’s fine. I kinda like doing this. It’s fun… and I learn a lot.”
I simply nodded, choosing not to say more.
✿———✦———✿
The next day, we returned to work until late into the night. Yukifuyu sat beside me, carefully checking each frame, while Yorishiro had fallen asleep on the sofa behind us. When I finally felt the episode was satisfactory, I spoke without taking my eyes off the screen.
“I deem this work hath reached its completion.”
Yukifuyu turned, offering a small, tired smile. “Finally… This collaboration’s been really fun, though it’s exhausting too.”
I nodded, letting a faint smile slip. “Thy craftsmanship is splendid, Yukifuyu. The details present themselves neat and fine.”
“Eh, Kazuaki-san… sometimes I wonder, am I actually keeping up with you two? I mean, you and Yorishiro are both so skilled. I feel like I’m still far below your level…”
I looked at her, keeping my tone calm and reassuring.“Think not such thoughts. Thou hast given thy utmost, and that alone be of greatest worth.”
She smiled softly, her confidence returning. “Thanks, Kazuaki-san. Sometimes I just… need time to adapt, you know?”
We sank back into work, comfortable in the quiet that settled between us. Even though I knew there were boundaries to maintain, a new awareness began to surface—this working relationship was affecting the balance I had worked so hard to preserve.
At some point, I realized that Chinatsu and I had begun spending far less time together than before. Long nights at the office or at Yorishiro’s home were slowly taking over. I knew it wasn’t a big issue yet, but the strange feeling lingering in me was hard to ignore. Something was shifting—not in my feelings for Chinatsu, but in the dynamics forming between me, Yukifuyu, and Chinatsu.
Was she jealous?
I needed to find a way to steady everything before it became more complicated.
When I arrived at the apartment, the clock showed 11:20 PM. The lights in the living room were off, but on the sofa I saw a silhouette—Chinatsu—fast asleep while hugging a pillow. Her face looked peaceful, though I knew she likely hadn’t slept well waiting for me.
I sat beside her, guilt washing over me once again for making her wait. I touched her shoulder gently, trying to wake her.
“Chinatsu… I hath returned home.”
She slowly opened her eyes, fatigue evident on her face. She wasn’t angry, yet I knew she carried her own worries.
“You’re late again, huh?” she whispered, her voice soft and concerned.
I nodded. “Forgive me. This project devoureth more time than I had foreseen.”
Chinatsu straightened herself, looking at me with questioning eyes.“I know you’re busy, Kazu… but lately I feel like we’re gettin’ farther apart. Every time you come home, it feels like there’s somethin’ you ain’t tellin’ me.”
I lowered my head, searching for the right words. I wanted to be honest, but I didn’t want to worry her further.
“’Tis naught but work, dear Chinatsu. Yukifuyu oft labors with me and Yorishiro, yet there lies naught between her and I. Thou knowest this, dost thou not?”
She sighed, relief touching her expression though a trace of doubt remained.“I wanna believe ya, Kazu… but sometimes it feels like there’s a wall between us.”
I reached for her hand, hoping to reassure her.“No wall standeth between us, Chinatsu. I remain here—with thee. Thou art the most precious soul in my life. Once this toil is done, more time shall I devote unto us.”
She offered a faint smile, though both of us knew we still had work to do to mend the growing distance. I could only hope that once the storm of work passed, our bond would return to what it once was—perhaps even stronger.
Suddenly, as I glanced around the room, my eyes caught sight of something tucked under the other sofa. Something hidden away. I stepped closer, intending to look more carefully, but Chinatsu noticed immediately. She hurried over, almost desperately, as if trying to block my view.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, suspicion rising in my voice.
Chinatsu shook her head quickly, clearly nervous. She grabbed my hand gently, guiding me toward the bedroom.“C’mon, let’s just go to the room first,” she said, her voice slightly rushed.
But I stopped her, still curious.“Fear not—I shall not be wrathful. Simply show me.”
She looked at me, hesitant, as though wanting to confess something but held back by her stubborn pride. Taking a deep breath, she finally asked, “Ya promise you ain’t gonna get mad?”
“Aye. I give thee my word.”
Nervously, she bent down and pulled out the hidden object.
It was my laptop—its screen cracked, as if stepped on or dropped. Chinatsu looked startled and slightly afraid, but I simply sighed and smiled.
“Worry not,” I said gently. “Such things may yet be mended.”
I picked up the laptop and brought it to my workshop table.
As a CTO and informatics graduate, this was no small matter—yet I knew exactly what to do. I opened the drawer and retrieved a spare screen I had kept for emergencies.
Chinatsu stood beside me, awe flickering across her face.“Wow… ya even had a spare screen?! That’s real cool. You can fix all sorta laptop stuff, huh?”
“… Indeed. And why dost thou ask?”
“Nothin’… I was thinkin’ of takin’ it to a repair shop ‘n all… I know you can fix things but I got scared, and turns out you’re like—super professional at this!”
I smiled lightly while arranging my tools.“’Tis but a simple task requiring little more than care and precision.”
Chinatsu watched, still impressed despite her attempts to act casual.
With patience, I opened the casing and began examining the cracked display. My hands moved swiftly, steady and sure, though my mind remained calm. Chinatsu stood close, watching every motion, pretending to be uninterested but unable to hide her curiosity.
As I focused on the screen, I noticed something distracting—Chinatsu’s usually tidy hair was messy, probably from just waking up. Several strands fell over her face. Without thinking too deeply, I reached over and gently brushed them aside.
“Thy hair hath grown a little untamed,” I murmured, as though making a simple observation.
Chinatsu froze, a faint blush touching her cheeks. She quickly fixed her hair and looked away.“It ain’t messy… it's fine,” she muttered, avoiding eye contact.
I smiled faintly and returned to my work. Yet curiosity nudged me.“Earlier thou didst say the device had fallen. From whence did this fall occur?”
Chinatsu paused, choosing her words carefully.“From the table… yeah, from the table.”
I said nothing outwardly, though something felt off. Still, I didn’t want to press her.“Ah, from the table. Not normal but very well.”
I resumed my work, installing the replacement screen. Chinatsu stood closer now, completely absorbed, even if she tried to mask it.
“Wow, ya can really do all that? That’s… real fancy. Kinda cool,” she said, trying to sound casual yet still impressed.
I lifted a shoulder.“’Tis no great feat.”
She exhaled softly, still amazed but trying not to show it.“Yeah, yeah… I get it. Still cool, though.”
When I finally secured the last screw, the new screen fit perfectly. I felt satisfied.
“Pray, let it not suffer damage again,” I said, turning toward her with a calm gaze.
Chinatsu nodded softly, her smile gentler now, cheeks faintly flushed.“O-Okay…”
I returned the laptop to the shelf beside my desk. Chinatsu sat down next to me, quieter than before. We both fell silent—yet it was a comfortable silence.
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