Chapter 43 : “Adopted”

The papers made a soft, constant sound as they moved from hand to hand.

Rurika watched them from the edge of the room. Forms slid across the table. Stamps pressed down with dull finality. Pens clicked, paused, then continued. Each motion felt careful, practiced, and irreversible.

Her name was written again and again.

Hanabusa Rurika.

Then crossed out.

Nishima Rurika.

The woman from family services smiled kindly as she spoke. Her voice was warm, reassuring, filled with words like stability, care, and best interest. Rurika nodded when expected. She bowed when appropriate. Her hands stayed folded in her lap so no one would notice how tightly her fingers trembled.

Kei sat across from her, shoulders straight, expression serious in the way adults wore when making what they believed was a good decision.

He had barely slept the night before.

Rurika knew because she had heard him pacing. Had heard the quiet sighs. Had heard Yui murmuring to him in a voice meant to soothe.

“She’ll be okay,” Yui had said. “You’re doing the right thing.”

Kei believed that.

It showed in the way he signed the final page without hesitation.

When it was done, the room seemed to exhale.

Yui covered her mouth with one hand. Her eyes filled, tears spilling over as relief finally caught up with her. She stood and pulled Rurika into a gentle hug.

“Welcome to the family,” Yui whispered.

Rurika froze for half a second before returning it.

Her chest felt tight.

Kei stood next. He placed a hand on her shoulder, careful and respectful, like he was afraid to press too hard.

“You don’t have to worry anymore,” he said. “You’re not alone.”

Rurika nodded. She wanted to believe him. More than anything, she wanted the words to become real.

Across the room, Touko watched.

She had not moved from her seat. Her hands rested neatly in her lap. Her posture was perfect. She smiled when expected, bowed when spoken to, and said nothing unnecessary.

No excitement touched her face.

No relief.

She studied the room the way someone watched a process finish. Something complex. Something delicate.

When the official congratulated them, Touko thanked her politely.

When Yui wiped her tears, Touko passed her a tissue.

When Kei looked at her, searching for approval he did not realize he wanted, Touko smiled and said, “I’m glad everything worked out.”

Her voice was calm. Sincere.

The ride home was quiet.

Yui talked softly about rearranging schedules. About school paperwork. About how they should celebrate with dinner somewhere nice. Kei listened, nodding, already planning, already adjusting his world to include one more responsibility.

Rurika sat in the back seat, watching the scenery pass. The city looked the same. People walked as usual. Cars stopped and started. Nothing reflected how much her life had just changed.

Touko sat beside her.

Their shoulders did not touch.

At home, Yui immediately began preparing food. She hummed as she worked, emotion still clinging to her voice. Kei loosened his tie and rolled up his sleeves, helping without being asked.

Rurika stood uncertainly near the doorway.

Touko noticed.

“You can put your bag there,” she said gently, pointing to a familiar spot. “Papa doesn’t like clutter by the entrance.”

Rurika obeyed without thinking.

Dinner passed politely. Yui talked. Kei responded. Touko listened. Rurika answered when spoken to.

No one raised their voice. No one argued. Everything felt almost too smooth.

Afterward, Kei stood and cleared his throat.

“I know today was a lot,” he said. “But I want you to know something, Rurika.” He looked directly at her. “This is your home now.”

The words settled over her like a blanket.

Yui smiled warmly. “We’ll take good care of you.”

Rurika bowed her head. “Thank you.”

Touko watched the exchange closely.

Later that night, the house quieted. Yui went to bed early, exhausted from emotion. Kei lingered in the living room, sorting documents into a folder, humming absently.

Rurika stood at the hallway entrance, unsure where she was allowed to go.

Touko appeared beside her, silent as always.

“It’s official now,” Touko said softly.

Rurika nodded. “Yes.”

Touko studied her face. Her eyes were calm. Curious.

“Does it feel different?” Touko asked.

Rurika thought for a moment. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “It feels… heavy.”

Touko smiled faintly. “That’s because it is.”

She stepped closer, close enough that Rurika could smell her shampoo. The house felt very still around them.

Touko leaned in, her voice dropping so low it barely disturbed the air.

“Now you can lose him properly.”

Rurika’s breath caught.

Touko straightened immediately, expression unchanged, as if she had said nothing at all.

“Good night,” she added pleasantly, then walked down the hall toward Kei, her footsteps light and familiar.

Rurika remained where she was.

The adoption papers sat on the table, stamped and final.

She was a Nishima now.

And somehow, she felt more alone than ever.