Chapter 41 : “Gratitude”

Rurika learned the rhythm of the house quickly.

Not because she was comfortable, but because she was careful.

She woke when the house woke. She moved when others moved. She listened for footsteps before opening her door, measured her voice before speaking, watched faces the way one watched weather.

Especially Kei’s.

Every kindness he showed her felt heavy.

He checked on her before leaving for work. Asked if she slept well. Reminded her to eat properly. When she thanked him, he waved it off with an awkward smile, telling her she didn’t need to keep doing that.

But she did.

“Thank you for letting me stay,” she said one morning, bowing slightly as he slipped on his jacket.

“You’ve said that already,” Kei replied gently. “You don’t owe us anything.”

Rurika nodded, but the words did not settle.

She watched him leave, the door clicking shut behind him, and felt the familiar pressure return to her chest. Gratitude was safer than silence. Gratitude meant she was seen as good. As deserving.

At school, teachers treated her differently now. Carefully. Quietly. As if she might break. Classmates avoided her or stared too long when they thought she wouldn’t notice.

Touko was the only constant.

She sat beside her in class, shared notes without being asked, corrected mistakes softly. When Rurika forgot an assignment, Touko reminded her before the teacher could notice.

“Thank you,” Rurika whispered.

Touko smiled. “Of course.”

At home, Kei tried to include her without making it obvious.

“You don’t have to wait for us,” he said one evening when she hesitated at the table. “You can start eating.”

Rurika froze, chopsticks hovering midair.

She glanced instinctively at Touko.

Touko nodded once.

“Go ahead,” she said kindly.

Only then did Rurika eat.

Kei didn’t notice.

He talked about work, about mundane things. He treated her like someone fragile but normal. That balance made her chest ache. It made her want to please him. To not be another burden.

So she thanked him.

Again.

“I really appreciate everything,” she said quietly as they cleared dishes.

Kei sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Rurika, you don’t need to keep saying that.”

“I know,” she replied quickly. “I just… I want you to know.”

He smiled, a little tired. “I do know.”

Touko stood by the sink, drying a plate. She watched them through the reflection in the glass cabinet. Every glance. Every pause. Every soft tone.

Later that night, Rurika hovered outside Kei’s study.

She had a question about homework. A small one. Insignificant. But her hand wouldn’t rise to knock.

She stood there for a full minute, heart pounding, before retreating down the hall.

Touko was there.

“Do you need something?” Touko asked.

“I was going to ask Papa something,” Rurika admitted. “But he looked busy.”

Touko considered this. “He doesn’t like being interrupted when he’s focused.”

“Oh,” Rurika said. “I didn’t know.”

“That’s okay,” Touko replied. “You can ask me instead.”

Rurika nodded. Relief washed through her, immediate and shameful.

The next day, she caught herself doing it again.

She wanted to tell Kei she’d be late after club activities. The words rose in her throat, then stopped. She looked toward Touko instead.

“Is it okay if I come home a little later?” she asked.

Touko smiled. “That’s fine. Just message Mama.”

Rurika did.

It took her a while to realize what she was doing.

By then, it felt natural.

Touko walked her through choices gently. What to wear. What to say. When to speak. She framed everything as consideration. As care.

“You don’t want to upset him, right?” Touko said one afternoon, resting a hand lightly on Rurika’s shoulder.

The touch was warm. Anchoring.

Rurika nodded without thinking.

“No,” she said. “I don’t.”

Touko’s smile was soft. Satisfied.

“You’re doing very well,” she said.

Rurika exhaled, the tension in her chest easing slightly. Praise felt like safety now.

She did not notice when she stopped speaking unless spoken to. When she waited for approval before acting. When gratitude turned into dependence.

Touko noticed everything.

That night, Touko wrote in her diary.

She asks first now.

She closed the book and turned off the light.

Gratitude was easy to guide.

And Rurika was learning exactly where she belonged.