Chapter 09

The third day was upon Tadashi as his alarm buzzed, checking his calendar, he realized that today was their beach day. The beach trip had started with pure chaos. Between Kei nearly forgetting his swimsuit, Daiki losing his wallet at the station (only to find it in his other pocket), and Rin making fun of them every step of the way, Tadashi was already questioning how they had made it this far.

But as soon as they arrived, the sight of the shimmering ocean, the golden sand stretching for miles, and the rhythmic crashing of the waves instantly washed away all their exhaustion.

“Alright, idiots,” Rin announced, planting her hands on her hips. “Who’s ready to embarrass themselves?”

“That’s what you’re looking forward to?” Hikaru sighed, adjusting the strap of his bag.

“Yes. Now let’s get in the water before I change my mind about tolerating all of you.”

Tadashi laughed as everyone scattered, some rushing toward the water, others setting up under a large umbrella. Nao, who had been quiet during the trip, walked beside him, her eyes fixed on the horizon.

“Not a fan of the beach?” Tadashi asked.

She shook her head. “I like it. Just not used to coming with… people.”

“Well, today, you get the full experience. Which includes watching Kei get buried in sand for the third time.”

Nao blinked. “How—?”

“It’s a long story,” Tadashi chuckled.

Meanwhile, Hikaru was sitting on a beach chair, far from the barbecue area where some locals had started grilling. His usual carefree expression was absent, his gaze lingering too long on the flames. Rin, noticing his distraction, nudged him.

“What, scared you’ll burn your perfect hair?” she teased.

Hikaru forced a grin. “I just don’t like fire.”

Tadashi caught the slight stiffness in his tone. He was always so laid-back, so effortlessly confident, that it was strange to see him falter—even for a moment. A gust of wind sent the scent of burning charcoal through the air, and Hikaru visibly tensed. It was subtle, something the others might not notice, but Tadashi did. Before he could say anything, Haruto suddenly clapped his hands together.

“Oh, right! Did you guys hear? The teachers finally announced our school trip.”

“Oh?” Kei, now mostly buried in sand, perked up. “Where to?”

“Some hot spring town,” Haruto said, pulling out his phone.

“They’re giving us the details on Monday, but from what I heard, we get an entire week off regular classes for it.”

Rin smirked. “You had me at ‘week off.’”

Nao looked mildly interested. “A hot spring town… sounds peaceful.”

Tadashi nodded, but his attention kept shifting back to Hikaru. The way his hands curled into the fabric of his swim shorts, the flicker of unease in his expression. It wasn’t just a dislike of fire. It was something deeper.

A fear.

And as the day continued, Tadashi couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever it was, he would soon find out.

The warmth of the bonfire flickered against the night sky, casting long shadows on the sand. The once lively beach had quieted, the sound of waves now the only companion to the glowing embers. The others had settled into their usual playful banter, but Tadashi couldn’t shake the memory of Hikaru’s expression from earlier. He wasn’t the only one who noticed.

“Hey, Hikaru,” Rin called out bluntly. “What’s with you and fire? You look like you’re about to bolt every time it gets close.”

The group quieted down, turning their attention to Hikaru, who had been sitting slightly apart from them, gazing into the flames. For a moment, he didn’t respond. His fingers curled into the sand, and a tired smile crept onto his face.

“It’s nothing,” he said, but his voice lacked the usual playfulness.

Tadashi frowned. “Doesn’t seem like nothing.”

Hikaru let out a slow breath. “You ever feel like your entire life was planned for you before you even had the chance to figure out what you wanted?”

The question hung in the air. Nao, silent as always, tilted her head slightly. Rin crossed her arms.

“That’s oddly specific.”

A humorless chuckle escaped Hikaru’s lips. “That’s because it was my reality.”

The crackling fire filled the silence before he continued.

“My parents… They weren’t bad people, but they had one goal for me, perfection. I wasn’t allowed to waste time. Every hour of my day was mapped out—study sessions, extra tutoring, piano lessons, calligraphy, you name it. I wasn’t a son; I was a project.” His voice was quiet, but the weight behind his words was undeniable.

Kei, usually the most lighthearted, spoke hesitantly. “And you never got a say?”

Hikaru shook his head. “Nope. The idea of ‘fun’ was considered a distraction. Play was inefficient. Laughing too much meant I wasn’t focused enough. And failing…” He paused, his hands tightening into fists. “Failure wasn’t an option.”

The fire crackled loudly, mirroring the tension in the air. Even Rin, usually the first to throw out a sarcastic remark, remained silent. Hikaru’s gaze remained on the flames.

“The only time I ever felt free was when I’d sneak out at night and just… run. No destination, no schedule—just me and the wind. But even that didn’t last long. One night, my father caught me. That was the first time I really saw him get angry.”

Tadashi felt a knot tighten in his chest. “What happened?”

Hikaru let out a slow breath. “I was locked in my study for weeks. No breaks, no rest. They pushed me harder. I was just a kid, but they didn’t care. And one night… one night, I fell asleep with a candle still burning.”

The group stiffened.

“The fire didn’t spread much before my parents put it out, but that wasn’t what stuck with me. It was their reaction. They weren’t scared that I could’ve gotten hurt. They were furious that I’d let something ‘so reckless’ happen. They didn’t ask if I was okay. They just made sure I ‘understood my mistake.’”

A bitter smile crossed Hikaru’s face. “That’s when I realized I wasn’t their son. I was their creation. And fire…” He looked into the flames again, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Fire became a reminder of how trapped I was. How I would always be punished for being anything less than perfect.”

Silence.

Heavy and unshakable.

For once, even Rin had nothing to say. Tadashi felt his chest tighten. He had never thought of Hikaru as anything but confident, easygoing, almost untouchable. To see him like this—to hear this side of him—it made something in him ache.

“You don’t have to be that person anymore,” Tadashi said quietly.

Hikaru blinked, turning to look at him. Tadashi swallowed before continuing.

“You’re not what they made you. You’re who you choose to be.”

For a long moment, Hikaru just stared at him. Then, slowly, a small, genuine smile replaced the usual smirks and teasing grins.

“Maybe you’re right.”

The fire crackled once more, but this time, Hikaru didn’t look away.