Assessment Four, Pt. 1

“...Whatever do you mean, Hayami-chan?” Auntie Mei chirped up, tilting her head with a sickly-sweet confusion. “The evidence seems pretty conclusive.”

The sentiment about Hayami’s judgment across the room was largely the same, judging by their looks.

“Uncle m-moved into my apartment for a reason other than c-cleansing me,” Hayami said. “He n-never talks with me—been that way for years! But when news g-got out that I was involved with Akira, he moved in the very next day. Of course he’d want to spy on me!”

The room murmured. A few cousins exchanged glances.

“These accusations… oh, Hayami,” Uncle Kenji interjected. “I only needed to intervene because you were going to perform that damn Buddhist tomb-sweeping my cursed mother!”

The mention of the deceased matriarch was like chucking a match at a gas station.

“How could you, Hayami?!” Auntie Mei cried. “My husband drowned in debt because of that woman!”

“And she didn’t f-force you to take loans!” Hayami shot back.

“Now, now, Hayami. They have a right to be upset. Their own mother prioritized her religion over her family.”

“I don’t c-care about what she chose because in the e-end it was her decision. W-Why can’t you guys respect that? You’re all adults, she was the individual.”

“Family before the individual! What is this Western way of thinking? Those gachas have warped you completely!”

“Judge m-me all you want! But just like Grandma, I just want to be l-left alone. You people can’t e-even do that.”

“You people? We are family!” Auntie Mei shouted. “We never abandon our own. Even when they are making a bad decision.”

Hayami straightened her spine. She remembered Akira’s lessons.

“I am not something to be ‘fixed,’” she said. “Either you respect me enough to take me a-as I am, or don’t. And i-if you don’t, just l-leave. It’s that simple!”

Uncle Kenji picked up the black camera node from the table.

He tossed it in his hand, weighing it.

“Be that as it may, Hayami, the evidence against Akira should be the real cause for concern.”

Hayami glared at him. “Yeah, a-after you planted e-evidence to frame him so you can sue them for easy money.”

“HAYAMI!” Mei shrieked.

Kenji held up a hand to silence his sister. He walked over to the landline phone on the wall.

“I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this. Even after so many weeks of talking and interacting with each other, you view me as a stranger!”

He picked up the receiver and held it out to her. The dial tone buzzed loudly in the quiet room.

“There’s only one way to resolve this,” he said softly. “Once and for all.”

Kenji picked up the receiver of the landline.

“The police can take over… and they will know who transmitted the signal. They have experts for this stuff, right? Well, if it’s me, let them take me away.”

He stepped closer.

“I just don’t want us to keep fighting! I don’t want you to look at me like a monster. Let the police find the truth so we can stop this madness and just be a family again.”

He pressed the phone into her hand, shaking like freshly-made jelly.

“Call them. Please. For our sake.”

Hayami stared at the phone. She stared at the camera.

She knew her Uncle was broke. She knew he was incompetent with technology.

Nausea washed over her as nasty thoughts ran through her head—

KNOCK-KNOCKKNOCK-KNOCK!

Her family being startled would be an understatement.

The last thing they needed was some unknown intruder!

“Quiet!” Kenji hissed. “The neighbors… if they complain to the landlord…”

“It could be the paparazzi. Now that’s when we are truly screwed,” Cousin Ryu whispered.

“Don’t open it,” Auntie Mei warned.

“I have to!” Kenji argued. “If we ignore it, they’ll think we’re hiding something! Act natural. Everyone, act natural!”

Kenji smoothed his shirt, unlocked the deadbolt and the chain, and swung the door open.

“Now listen here, we are having a private—”

The words died in his throat.

Standing in the dingy hallway was Akira.

He was wearing a dark hoodie; the hood pulled down barely obscuring his windblown hair.

Behind him stood what looked like a butler holding a briefcase.

The presence of an A-grade celebrity in the peeling hallway was jarring. They didn’t expect him to come in person, much less to the prodigal daughter’s house.

Except for one Uncle Kenji.

“You!” Kenji recovered first, pointing a shaking finger. “You have some nerve! You broke into my home, spied on my niece!”

“I walked through an open door,” Akira corrected coldly. “While you force your way through.”

Kenji scrambled back to the table, grabbing the smart home device.

“We have definitive proof. What’s going to be your excuse now?!”

He walked over, snatched the device from Kenji’s hand, and inspected it.

“You didn’t know it was definitely us, and yet you claimed I planted it anyway,” Akira said, turning the device over.

“I—what? You only knew to come here because you were spying!”

“Or it could be a sick coincidence. For all we know, it was the work of a creepshow reporter, looking for their next scoop. You just grabbed what you found and made up a story.”

Kenji’s mouth crinkled. “I would never spy on my niece.”

“You’re right. Because I did.”

Silence swept through the room. The sound of cars rolling past was all they heard.

Hayami was the first to break the silence. “You idiot.”

“Idiot’s right,” Kenji said. “And now we have all the right in the world to inform the press. Spying a teenager—god, you are disgusting.”

“I didn’t,” Akira calmly replied.

“Doesn’t matter! The fact that there were cameras in her smart devices at all is enough.”

Akira shrugged. “It also doesn’t matter what you think. Because I have proof it was the only way to keep Hayami safe from you.”

He reached into his pocket and tossed his smartphone onto the dining table. It slid across the wood and stopped in front of Auntie Mei.

On the screen, a video was playing. It was grainy, night-vision footage from outside the apartment.

It was dated three weeks ago.

It showed Kenji looming over Hayami, taking her phone and cornering her against the wall… dated five weeks ago.

“Can’t you all see? He is unstable,” Akira announced to the room. “This was all even before he invited the Sato family into Hayami’s house.”

All the while, Hayami felt powerless. She stood by the wall, looking at life passing her by.

Her best friend was a spy. Her family were strangers.

Akira snapped his fingers.

Watari stepped forward. He placed the briefcase on the table.

Click. Click.

The butler opened the lid.

Auntie Mei gasped. Cousin Ryu’s eyes bulged.

Inside were neat, thick stacks of 10,000 yen notes.

“I am aware of your family situation. I know how much all of you need this. Consequently, I shall pay for you and all the Sato family’s troubles,” Akira said. “Debts, loans. All of you.”

Akira’s gaze swept the room.

“All you have to do is leave the house and never bother Hayami ever again.”

Uncle Kenji looked at the money, then at his family. He laughed nervously.

“We are a respectable family!” Uncle Kenji shouted, grabbing Auntie Mei’s arm. “Let’s keep him out and be done with it. We are going to sue you to oblivion! Invasion of privacy! Harassment!”

He looked at his sister.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Auntie Mei said.

Uncle Kenji blinked. “...What?”

“I’d rather not get into legal affairs,” Auntie Mei replied quickly. “Too much for my old heart to handle. And if he has video of you acting crazy, Kenji… we won’t win.”

“Mei?” he stammered. “But… but we’re family.”

“Come on, Kenji,” his cousin Ryu said. “Don’t be stupid. Take the offer.”

Uncle Kenji stood there. He looked from his sister to his cousin to the money.

He was alone.

Akira turned to Hayami.

He didn't touch the money, nor did he look at Kenji. He looked only at her.

“But this depends on Hayami,” Akira said softly. “If this is acceptable to her.”

The room turned to the girl in the corner.

Hayami looked at her Uncle. She looked again at Akira.

She was tired. She was so, so tired of all this.

So she raised her voice so all her family could hear. “Seeing you all here like this… i-it’s made me realize something. We weren’t cursed. The Sato Family was never cursed. I was never cursed. I didn't have bad luck at all; I just didn't believe that I deserved luck. And because of you guys, it made me believe that.”

The family looked at her with a thinly veiled attempt, waiting for her to get on with it already.

She obliged.

“Go ahead, Akira,” she whispered. “Get them out of here.”

Akira nodded solemnly.

“You heard her,” Akira announced, closing the briefcase.

The room exploded into action. Hayami had never seen this level of cooperation between her family before.

“I’m friends with people from a moving company, I will get them here right away,” Cousin Ryu said. “We can clear the furniture by tonight.”

“And I’ll get the sofa!”

“Hey, Kenji, grab your boxes. Don't just stand there.”

Kenji looked around, dazed.

“You can stay with me the night, little bro,” Auntie Mei said. “Saving you as usual. But you’re definitely sleeping on the sofa.”

When Kenji set his eyes on Akira, however, his eyes zeroed in. Walking straight toward him, Akira could only look down on him. Literally. He was at least six inches taller.

“You think this is something you can wave away with money, boy?”

“Evidently.”

Akira noted how Kenji had dropped his character entirely.

“Well, there’s something in Japan that can’t be solved with money. The truth.”

Kenji stepped back.

“We’ll be seeing each other very soon,” he finished, staring at Akira all the while as he exited the apartment.

Akira huffed. Realistically, there was not much Akira should worry about. He had a legal team and a multi-billion yen corporation behind him.

Short of collaborating with his manager… he should be in the clear.

Akira resumed scanning the room, looking for the person who’d misguidedly betrayed.

\\

Hayami didn't watch them pack up.

She wasn’t even there when they eventually left and took the things.

She had disappeared,walking swiftly down the hallway and into the kitchen.

She braced her hands against the counter, staring at the expensive melon Kenji had bought to impress them.

She heard the front door slam. She heard the heavy footsteps of the movers. And then, finally, silence.

Not everyone had cleared out the house yet, though.

She heard soft footsteps approach the kitchen archway.

“Hayami,” Akira said softly.

She didn't turn around. She couldn't look at him. If she looked at him, she would see the boy she loved, and she would see the boy who could’ve watched her sleeping, and she didn't know how to reconcile them.

“Leave me alone.”

Akira froze.

“I just…” She gripped the counter until her knuckles turned white. “I need time to think. And you being here is not helping.”

She turned her head slightly, just enough to see him out of the corner of her wet eye.

“Please. Just go.”

Akira stood there for a long moment.

He lowered his head.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

He turned and walked away.

The front door clicked shut.