The Weight of Control

Morning light filtered gently into Akari's room, thin rays slipping through the window and falling across the futon on the floor. Haruto stirred, brows knitting faintly before his eyes slowly opened. For a moment, he didn't move. His body felt heavy, his thoughts dull, as if the night hadn't fully released him yet.

He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes, shoulders slumped. Akari noticed from across the room.

"You're awake," she said softly.

Haruto nodded, still half-asleep. After changing his clothes, he followed her downstairs, footsteps quiet against the floor. The house felt unusually calm.

Ayame and Kaito were already near the entrance, slipping on their shoes. Ayame tied her laces quickly, energy already back in her movements, while Kaito adjusted his jacket.

"We're going out to play," Ayame said cheerfully, glancing back toward the kitchen.
"Don't be late," Kaito added.

Akari nodded. "Be careful."

Renjiro stood nearby, arms crossed, watching them leave. The door slid shut, their voices fading as they headed outside.

Haruto yawned, blinking slowly.

"…Where did Ayame and Kaito go?" he asked, voice rough with sleep.

"They went to play with friends," Renjiro replied. "Get ready and eat fast. You can catch up to them."

Haruto nodded lazily and walked over to the table. He pulled out a chair and sat down, posture relaxed but tired, eyes still heavy. He glanced at the bowl placed in front of him, steam rising quietly.

"What's breakfast?" he asked.

"Miso ramen," Akari replied, sitting across from him.

Haruto picked up his chopsticks and began to eat quietly, steam from the ramen drifting upward between him and Akari. His movements were slow, almost absent-minded, as if his body was present but his thoughts were somewhere else.

Akari watched him for a moment, then spoke.

"Haruto," she said gently, "what was the help you asked Daigo for?"

His chopsticks stopped mid-air.

Haruto lowered them back into the bowl, eyes fixed on the surface of the broth. The room felt suddenly still.

"…The night before exam day," he began quietly, "when I went to take my futon so I could bring it into Aka's room…"

Renjiro straightened slightly, listening.

"I heard a knock on the window."

Akari's expression tightened, but she didn't interrupt.

"When I opened it," Haruto continued, "it felt like… I was looking at myself."

A pause.

"He told me to protect Ayame," Haruto said. "He said she would die in the upcoming days."

The words landed heavily.

"For a second, I thought… there are people around. Shinobi. Adults. So I don't need to do anything."
He shook his head faintly.
"But he said that on that day, no one would be in the village. All the shinobi would be out… for some reason."

Haruto took another bite, then stopped again.

"Yesterday, when I said we should head home or everyone would be late… Arashi said his parents were gone for a meeting. That didn't bother me."

His grip tightened slightly.

"But when Ayame read the letter you left on the table… saying you both were in a meeting…"

He exhaled slowly.

"I thought—this was the day."

Akari and Renjiro remained silent, letting him continue.

"I couldn't sleep," Haruto said. "I had this feeling… like something bad was coming toward me."

He lifted his gaze briefly, then lowered it again.

"I wanted to protect her. So I did what I could. With clones. And the way it was written in the book… I followed it."

A quiet moment passed.

"But now there's a truth," he said softly. "I can't do anything about it."

Renjiro spoke at last.

"…Do you trust us?"

Haruto answered without hesitation.
"Yes. I do."

Renjiro's voice remained calm, but firm.
"Then why didn't you tell us before?"

Haruto's shoulders fell slightly.

"I thought you'd say I was dreaming," he admitted. "That it was just a nightmare. That I was imagining things."

Akari leaned forward, her voice warm and steady.

"You don't need to think that way," she said. "Not with us."

Haruto nodded faintly, then continued.

"When hunters attacked me four years ago… I ran."
His jaw tightened.
"But it kept getting harder. They came again and again."

He finally raised his eyes.

"And I can tell… they'll attack again."

The room fell quiet. Morning light filled the space, calm and ordinary—yet carrying the weight of what now lay ahead.

Akari let the silence sit for a moment longer, then gently shifted the tone.

"…How did you get hurt on your head yesterday?" she asked, her voice softer now, trying to ease the weight in the room.

Before Haruto could answer, Renjiro spoke up, cutting in calmly.

"Why did you take the chocolate?"

Haruto blinked, pulled out of his thoughts.

"I took it for Mimi," he said. "It was her birthday. Then I went to Aunt Mikasa's house with Mimi."

He paused, then added quietly, "On the way back… I had an accident with a cycle."

He glanced up briefly.

"You saw the cycle yesterday, right? That one."

Akari nodded slowly, remembering.

"…And your stomach?" she asked next.

Haruto looked down at himself, almost puzzled.

"I didn't really feel it," he said. "But I think… he had a kunai in his hand when I jumped on him. So… I guess that's how."

Akari inhaled, steadying herself.

"…How did he die?" she asked.

The change was instant.

Haruto's expression emptied. His eyes lost focus, as if something inside him had shut off completely. His voice, when he spoke, was flat—detached.

"The clones were holding the shuriken," he said. "But they couldn't take it."

His fingers curled slightly.

"It slipped… and fell on his back."

A pause.

"He died," Haruto said quietly. "I saw the blood coming out."

He suddenly lifted both his hands, holding them up in front of him, staring at them as if they didn't belong to him.

"…I killed him," he said. "With both of these hands."

Akari's breath caught.

"Yesterday," Haruto continued, voice trembling now, "when I was on the sofa… I kept thinking… I should get rid of them."

Akari leaned forward sharply.
"Haruto—hey. Haruto. Look at me."

But he didn't hear her.

"My hands are dangerous," he said, panic bleeding through the numbness. "Who knows… what if I'm the one who kills Ayame?"

His breathing quickened.

"What if I kill someone else?" he whispered. "I know you both won't allow it…"

He suddenly stood up.

"…So I'll do it myself."

"Haruto!" Akari shouted.

But he was already moving.

He ran down the hall, pushed into Renjiro's room, and slammed the door shut. A sharp click followed as the lock turned.

Silence fell over the house—thick, frightening, and fragile.

Haruto picked up the kunai from the table, his right hand gripping it tightly. His left hand rested flat on the table, fingers spread, as if trying to anchor himself. He froze in that position, body tense, mind clouded. His thoughts didn't come clearly—only a heavy, uneasy fog.

Outside, Akari's voice rang sharp.
"Renjiro! Open the door!"

Renjiro didn't wait. He stepped up to the door and with a forceful strike broke through it, the upper section splintering loudly, the lock giving way. Wood shards fell to the floor as he stepped inside, eyes fixed on Haruto.

"Haruto!" Renjiro's voice cut through the room, firm and commanding.

The sound hit Haruto like a shock. His grip loosened, the kunai slipping from his fingers and clattering to the floor. His knees wobbled.

"…Brother… I feel… different… tired… dizzy… uneasy… I don't know what to do…" Haruto whispered, his voice trembling.

Renjiro stayed at Haruto's side, one hand steady on his shoulder, giving support and presence without crowding him.

Haruto swayed, losing his balance, teetering dangerously for a moment.

Renjiro's hand on his shoulder helped keep him upright. Haruto leaned heavily against him, shaking, exhausted.

Akari rushed in behind them, eyes wide with worry. She didn't need to enter fully—seeing Renjiro holding him, she knew he was safe.

Haruto's breathing was shallow, uneven, as the adrenaline drained from his body. Slowly, his eyes fluttered closed, the weight of everything finally catching up with him.

Renjiro stayed close, his hand still on Haruto's shoulder, while Akari hovered nearby, ready to support him. The broken door behind them leaned crookedly in its frame, a quiet reminder of how close it had come.

For a few moments, silence settled over the room. Haruto's breathing gradually slowed, though his body still trembled slightly. The tension of the night hung faintly in the air, but for the first time, a quiet calm began to seep in.

Akari knelt in front of him, gently placing a bowl of miso ramen on the table. "Here… let's finish this," she said softly, pushing the bowl closer. "You need to eat."

Haruto blinked slowly, exhaustion heavy in his eyes. Akari guided the spoon carefully, helping him take a few bites at a time. Renjiro stayed close, hand still resting on Haruto's shoulder, a silent pillar of support.

"Slowly… it's okay," Akari murmured. Haruto nodded weakly, letting her help him, the warmth of her presence and the simple act of eating grounding him after the chaos.

Once he had eaten enough to regain a little strength, he leaned back, letting out a long sigh. His body was heavy with fatigue, too tired to walk on his own.

Renjiro knelt slightly and said softly, "I'll carry you. You don't need to worry about standing."

Haruto hesitated for a moment, then nodded. Carefully, Renjiro lifted him onto his back, adjusting him so he was secure but comfortable. Haruto rested his head lightly against Renjiro's shoulder, eyes half-closed, and within minutes, the exhaustion overtook him. His silver eyes fluttered shut, and he drifted into a deep sleep as they left the house.

The streets of the village were quiet in the morning light, the calm after the storm lingering in the air. Renjiro walked steadily, Akari close behind, her eyes vigilant as they moved through the familiar streets. Haruto slept peacefully on Renjiro's back, unaware of the small noises and movements around them.

Soon, the massive gates of the Central Authority rose into view, towering and stern. Guards stood at attention, clad in black formal coats, minimal insignia, no visible rank badges, their presence calm but quietly intimidating. The faint weight of authority radiated from them, a silent reminder of the power within.

Renjiro stepped forward, carefully adjusting Haruto so he remained secure on his back. Akari stayed close, hand lightly resting near Haruto.

One of the guards, voice measured, asked, "Do you have permission from the National Police Bureau to enter?"

Renjiro and Akari exchanged a glance but said nothing. A younger officer standing beside him spoke up quietly, "We're… sorry. You may proceed. This officer is new here; follow the proper protocol inside."

With the gates opening, Renjiro moved carefully, keeping Haruto balanced, while Akari stayed close. Haruto stirred slightly, blinking sleepily, his silver eyes slowly opening. He took in the austere courtyard and the imposing architecture of the Authority, still weighed down from exhaustion but gradually becoming more alert.

They passed through the gates and made their way to a large office. Behind a massive desk sat a man, calm but commanding—the nameplate read Raijin Homura.

Renjiro carefully set Haruto down, who now sat upright, leaning slightly but attentive. Akari and Renjiro took their seats across from the desk. Bowing respectfully, they greeted in unison:

"Sensei."

Haruto, still recovering from the morning's events, now fully awake, looked at Raijin Homura, sensing the weight of authority and the seriousness of the situation that awaited them.

As Raijin began to ask more details about the incident, a soft knock came at the office door.

"Enter," Raijin called.

The door opened and Arashi stepped in, carrying a neatly packed tiffin. "Here, Father," he said respectfully, placing it on Raijin's desk. "Lunch is ready."

Raijin's stern expression softened. "Thank you, Arashi. You've got perfect timing."

Arashi glanced at Haruto, who was sitting quietly, still recovering from the morning's exhaustion. "Haruto," he said with a small grin, "come with me. Let's go outside and play for a while before it gets too late."

Haruto blinked, stretching lightly, his silver eyes catching Arashi's friendly expression. "Play…?" he asked, curiosity sparking despite his tiredness.

"Yes," Arashi said. "Just for a bit. You can eat later."

Haruto nodded, a faint smile appearing, and stood carefully. Akari gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Go ahead, Haruto. Get some fresh air."

Renjiro gave a small nod as well. "Be careful, little brother."

With that, Haruto followed Arashi out of the office, stepping into the courtyard and the morning light, leaving Raijin, Akari, and Renjiro inside to continue the serious discussion of the incident.

Inside the office, Raijin, Renjiro, and Akari sat quietly. The discussion of the incident was detailed—what mattered was that the Central Authority understood the gravity of the situation.

Finally, Raijin leaned back slightly, his expression softening. "If there's anything else, anything at all, you can inform me at any time," he said, looking at both Renjiro and Akari.

Renjiro shook his head gently. "It's okay, Sensei. We don't want to put any burden on you."

Raijin's eyes widened slightly. "Burden?" His voice boomed for a brief moment, startling even the young officers in the room, before he quickly returned to his calm tone.

"See," he said, a faint smile appearing, "they may be your Sensei's children, and you may be close to them, perhaps even more than to me or Sayuri—but before your Sensei, they are my best friends' children. You don't need to hide anything from me, okay?"

Akari and Renjiro nodded firmly. "Yes, Sensei."

Outside, Haruto followed Arashi through the streets to his home. The afternoon air was crisp, and for the first time that day, the weight on Haruto's shoulders felt a little lighter.

Arashi's younger brother, Akashi, came running toward them, a small grin on his face. "Haruto! Let's play!"

Haruto managed a tired but genuine smile. "Okay," he said softly.

The three of them ran into the small yard, laughter and shouts filling the quiet neighborhood. Haruto's exhaustion didn't vanish entirely, but for a while, he could forget the tension of the morning and the danger of yesterday. The simple joy of running, dodging, and joking with Arashi and Akashi gave him a moment of peace—something rare in his life these days.

The meeting at the Central Authority concluded smoothly. After greeting Raijin Homura and providing the details of the incident, Akari and Renjiro stood.

"Thank you, Sensei," Renjiro said respectfully.

Raijin nodded, his expression calm but firm. "Remember, if there's anything else, you don't need to hide it. I trust you."

With that, the two left the office. The sun was high, casting a warm afternoon glow over the city streets.

Akari turned to Renjiro. "Go get Ayame and Kaito home. I'll bring Haruto," she said.

Renjiro nodded. "Got it. Take care," he replied, and the siblings separated, each heading to their respective tasks.

Akari walked briskly toward Arashi's home, the soft sounds of laughter already reaching her from the yard. By the time she arrived, Haruto, Arashi, and little Akashi were playing together, running, tumbling, and laughing under the warm afternoon sun. Haruto's silver eyes gleamed faintly, a rare moment of unburdened joy as he chased Akashi and dodged Arashi's playful attacks.

Near the edge of the yard, Sayuri was seated on a bench, watching quietly. Akari approached and took a seat beside her, eyes fixed on the three children as they played.

Sayuri glanced at Akari, her tone gentle. "They look happy," she said softly.

Akari settled beside Sayuri on the bench, watching Haruto, Arashi, and little Akashi running and laughing in the yard.

"They look happy," Akari said softly.

"Yes," Sayuri replied, her tone calm. "It's good to see them like this."

Akari nodded, then hesitated before speaking again. "Sayuri Sensei… I… I get frustrated sometimes. Especially with Haruto. His sickness, the way he's different, and how the hunters keep targeting them…" She trailed off, shoulders heavy.

Sayuri placed a gentle hand on hers. "Akari… you're doing more than you realize. I know you're small, only sixteen, but you're already carrying so much. You're keeping them safe—Haruto, Ayame, Kaito—guiding them, being there when they need you. That's everything a guardian can do."

Akari took a deep breath. "I know, but it feels like nothing is ever enough. Haruto… he's unpredictable, and I can see the weight he carries. And the hunters… they're always coming for these three."

Sayuri's eyes softened. "Yes, they are dangerous, but look at them now. Haruto, Arashi, Akashi—they're laughing, playing. Ayame and Kaito will be just as fine—you've done everything you can for them too. That's proof your guidance is working. You're not failing any of them. And when you feel overwhelmed, remember you don't have to bear it all alone."

Akari watched Haruto chase after Akashi, a faint smile touching her lips despite the lingering worry. "I just… I want them to grow up safe, Sayuri Sensei. No more nightmares, no more hunting… I want them to be free, even for a little while."

Sayuri smiled warmly. "And they are, because of you. That freedom, even if brief, is priceless. You've already done so much. Keep holding onto that. You're stronger than you think."

Akari nodded, letting a small sense of hope sink in. She turned her gaze back to the children, letting their laughter wash over her—a rare calm amidst the storm of their lives.

The afternoon sun dipped slightly as the laughter in the yard slowed. Haruto bent forward, hands resting on his knees, breathing a little heavier than before.

Arashi noticed first. "Hey… you okay?"

Haruto nodded, forcing a small smile. "Yeah. Just… tired."

Akashi tugged at Haruto's sleeve. "Already?"

Haruto ruffled his hair gently. "I'll play again later."

Akari watched closely from the bench. The way Haruto's movements slowed, the faint dullness returning to his silver eyes—it wasn't dramatic, but she knew him too well. She stood.

"That's enough for today," she said softly. "Haruto, we're heading home."

Haruto didn't argue. That alone worried her more than anything else.

As he walked toward her, Sayuri stood as well. She leaned in slightly, her voice low enough that only Akari could hear.

"This calm you're seeing," Sayuri said, eyes still on the children, "hold onto it. But don't trust it too much."

Akari's fingers curled slightly. "You felt it too?"

Sayuri nodded once. "Yes. Very faint… but familiar."

Haruto paused beside Akari, swaying just a little. She steadied him instantly, pulling him close. He rested his forehead briefly against her shoulder, eyes closing.

"I'm okay," he murmured. "Just sleepy."

Akari brushed his hair back gently. "I know."

As they began walking away from the yard, Sayuri remained behind, her gaze lifting—not toward the children, but toward the rooftops beyond the houses.

For a brief moment, the wind shifted.

Nothing moved.

Still, Sayuri's expression tightened.

"…They're patient," she whispered.

Unaware of it all, Haruto leaned more of his weight onto Akari as they walked, his steps slow but steady. The laughter behind them faded, replaced by the quiet rhythm of footsteps and an uneasy peace that felt like borrowed time.

The evening air had cooled by the time Akari gently steadied Haruto beside her. He leaned closer, steps slow.

"Aka…" Haruto murmured softly.

Akari's grip tightened just a little. "I'm here."

They stopped near the gate of Arashi's home. Sayuri stood there, watching quietly, her presence calm and grounding. She didn't move to follow—this was where she belonged.

She bent slightly toward Haruto. "Go home and rest properly," she said gently.

Haruto looked up at her, silver eyes tired but clear. He nodded. "Okay."

Sayuri's gaze shifted briefly to Akari. "You're doing well," she said, not loud, not soft—just certain.

Akari gave a small nod in return.

With that, Akari guided Haruto away. Sayuri remained behind, watching them disappear down the road before turning back toward her house—toward Arashi and Akashi.

When Akari slid open the door at home, familiar voices greeted them.

"Big sister Akari!" Ayame called out immediately.

Kaito followed, calmer but relieved. "You're back."

Akari smiled faintly. "Did you two behave?"

Ayame laughed. "Mostly."

Haruto stepped in quietly behind her.

Ayame noticed at once. Her voice softened. "Haruto…"

Kaito studied him for a second. "You look tired."

Haruto nodded. "I am."

Neither of them pressed further. Ayame gently took his hand and guided him inside, while Kaito slid the door shut.

Haruto glanced once toward the window as he walked in.

The sky outside was peaceful.

Too peaceful.

But for now, he was home—and that was enough.

Haruto sat on the futon, leaning back against the wall while Akari moved around the room, setting things in order. After a moment of silence, he spoke.

"Aka…"

Akari looked over. "Yes?"

"What is the National Police Bureau?" he asked, genuinely curious.

Akari paused, then sat beside him. "They're an organization that gathers reports and information from local police—like the Capital Ward—and passes important matters to the Central Authority."

Haruto nodded slowly, thinking. "Then why did the officers say we needed their permission to talk to the Central Authority?"

Akari exhaled softly. "Because normally, reports go upward. Capital Ward reports to the National Police Bureau, and the Bureau reports to the Central Authority. It's about control and order."

Haruto frowned slightly. "But… Uncle Raijin is the head of the Central Authority, right?"

"Yes," Akari said.

"I didn't know that," Haruto admitted. "Then… where was Dad?"

Akari's eyes softened. "Not in the National Police Bureau."

Haruto tilted his head. "Then… in the Central Authority?"

She shook her head again.

Haruto went quiet for a moment, then looked up at her. "Then where?"

Akari smiled—small, proud, and a little sad. "Your father was going to be Enkage."

Haruto's eyes widened slightly.

Then he smiled.

Not a big smile. Just a calm, understanding one.

"Oh," he said. "That makes sense."

Akari watched him carefully. "Why?"

Haruto looked down at his hands. "Because… he was always walking ahead of everyone else."

Akari didn't respond right away. She simply placed a hand on his head, letting the silence speak for her.

For the first time that day, Haruto looked at peace—not because he understood everything, but because something finally fit.

That peace stayed with him as the evening settled in.

Later, alone in the dim quiet of the room, Haruto sat on the edge of the futon, staring forward. The house was calm—too calm. His thoughts moved slowly now, not spiraling like before, but lining up one by one.

There were things he wanted to do.
And things he couldn't.

He couldn't protect everyone.
He couldn't see every threat.
He couldn't walk ahead like him yet.

But there were responsibilities small enough for his hands to carry.

Being careful.
Being disciplined.
Not becoming a burden.

If he couldn't walk ahead… then he would at least stop falling behind.

That thought stayed with him as he lay down. The tension in his body eased, and for once, sleep came without resistance.

Morning light filtered softly into the room.

Haruto woke before anyone called him. He lay still for a moment, listening to the quiet rhythm of the house, then sat up.

He folded the futon carefully, smoothing the creases, stacking the blanket neatly. When he was done, the space looked orderly—intentional.

Akari noticed as she passed by. She slowed, watching him without saying anything.

Haruto moved to wash his face and brush his teeth, and then changed his clothes, his motions steady and precise. No rushing. No hesitation.

Breakfast was already on the table when he returned.

Ayame and Kaito were there.

They watched quietly as Haruto sat, picked up his bowl, and began eating. He wasn't slow, but he wasn't distracted either. His gaze stayed lowered, thoughtful.

Ayame exchanged a glance with Kaito.

"…You're different today," she said softly.

Haruto paused for a second, then continued eating. "Maybe," he replied.

When he finished, he stood, carried the bowl to the kitchen, rinsed it clean, and placed it back neatly.

Renjiro observed him from the doorway, arms crossed. Akari felt it too—that subtle shift, like something had settled into place inside him.

Haruto returned, adjusted his sleeves, and spoke calmly.

"I'm ready."

No fear.
No rush.
Just quiet resolve.

Akari placed a hand on his head again, briefly this time. Haruto didn't look up—but he didn't pull away either.

Whatever had changed in him last night hadn't faded with sleep.

It had taken root.