Chapter 14 – What Was Left Behind Part 1

Aiko Hoshizora stood at the front gate of her childhood home long after the taxi had driven away.

The house looked exactly the same. White walls. Trimmed hedges. Lights glowing softly behind curtained windows. A place that once felt safe now felt impossibly distant.

Her hands trembled as she rang the bell.

Midori Hoshizora opened the door.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Midori looked thinner. Her hair was tied back neatly, just like always, but her eyes widened when she saw her daughter standing there, pale and exhausted, clothes wrinkled, eyes swollen from crying.

“Aiko…” Midori whispered.

That single word broke her.

Aiko collapsed forward, clinging to her mother as sobs tore out of her chest. Weeks of fear, guilt, pain, and regret poured out all at once.

“I’m sorry,” Aiko cried. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know where else to go.”

Midori stiffened at first, then slowly wrapped her arms around her daughter. Her own eyes filled with tears.

They sat together in the living room afterward. Aiko explained everything in broken pieces. The argument. The fall. The birth. Leaving Yuji. Leaving her daughter behind.

Midori listened without interrupting, her face unreadable.

When Aiko finished, silence filled the room.

Hiroshi Hoshizora stood near the doorway, arms crossed, his expression cold and calculating.

“So,” he said finally, “you abandoned your husband and child.”

Aiko flinched. “I didn’t abandon them. I just… I couldn’t stay. I was scared.”

“Scared?” Hiroshi scoffed. “You made your choices. And now you come crawling back?”

Midori shot him a sharp look. “Hiroshi, enough.”

But Hiroshi had already turned away, his jaw tight.

That night, Aiko cried herself to sleep in her old room. Nothing had changed. The furniture. The curtains. Even the faint scent of lavender still lingered. But she felt like a stranger lying in someone else’s bed.

Downstairs, Hiroshi spoke quietly to Midori.

“The baby is a problem,” he said. “That child ties her to him forever.”

Midori hesitated. “Hiroshi, she’s our granddaughter.”

“And she’s being raised by an orphan with no stability,” Hiroshi replied sharply. “Do you want that bloodline dragged through poverty?”

Midori said nothing.

Hiroshi’s eyes hardened. “We’ll take the child. Whether he agrees or not.”

Yuji Sakamoto had not slept in two days.

Mai lay in his arms, impossibly small, her tiny chest rising and falling as she slept. Her warmth was the only thing keeping him standing.

The eviction notice had come that morning.

He pleaded. He bowed. He promised payment.

The landlord didn’t care.

By evening, Yuji stood outside the apartment with a single bag slung over his shoulder and Mai bundled against his chest. The door closed behind him with a final, hollow sound.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to his daughter. “Papa will figure something out.”

They moved from one cheap lodge to another. Damp walls. Flickering lights. The smell of mold and old smoke. Yuji spent what little money he had left on a room for the night.

When Mai cried from hunger, panic clawed at his chest.

He went to a small corner shop near the lodge, counting coins again and again. He was short. Far short.

The baby formula sat on the shelf, white and untouched.

His hands shook.

“I’ll pay later,” he whispered to no one.

He grabbed the tin and turned toward the door.

“Hey.”

The shop owner’s voice froze him in place.

Yuji bowed deeply, his face burning. “I’m sorry. Please. My daughter—”

The man stared at him for a long moment. Then his eyes softened when he saw Mai’s tiny face peeking out from the blanket.

“…You idiot,” the owner muttered.

He took the formula from Yuji’s hands, rang it up, and shoved it back into his arms.

“Don’t steal. Ask,” he said gruffly. “Kids shouldn’t go hungry.”

Yuji bowed again, tears slipping down his cheeks. “Thank you. I’ll repay you. I swear.”

“Just take care of her,” the man replied, turning away.

That night, Yuji fed Mai with shaking hands. She drank slowly, then fell asleep, her fingers curling around his thumb.

He watched her for a long time.

“I’m not going to lose you,” he whispered. “No matter what.”

Back at the Hoshizora house, Hiroshi made calls.

Private connections. Quiet arrangements.

“The baby is with the father,” he said calmly into the phone. “Yes. I want her brought here. Discreetly.”

Midori overheard him and felt her stomach drop.

“Hiroshi,” she said sharply after he hung up, “what are you planning?”

“That child deserves better,” he replied. “And so does Aiko.”

Midori’s voice shook. “You’re talking about kidnapping.”

Hiroshi met her gaze without blinking. “I’m talking about protecting our family.”

Midori looked upstairs, where Aiko slept, unaware.

For the first time in years, doubt crept into her heart.

Across the city, Yuji lay awake on a thin mattress, Mai sleeping on his chest.

He didn’t know danger was already moving toward him.

He only knew one thing.

As long as he could breathe, he would protect his daughter.

Even if the whole world stood against him.