Chapter 8: Outburst

The train rattled and clattered along the snowy tracks, but inside the Takeda compartment, the atmosphere was far stormier than the weather outside. Haruto Takeda, seated stiffly near the window, exhaled slowly, glancing toward his parents. His hands rested on his knees, fingers tapping nervously, while Kenji Sakamoto lounged across from him, grinning like a man watching a slow-motion disaster unfold.

“Father…” Haruto began cautiously, his voice low but firm. “I… need to tell you something about Sakura-san.”

Takeda Kazuo, seated with his arms crossed, raised an eyebrow. “What is it, Haruto?”

“She… she approached me on the train,” Haruto said, trying to keep his composure. “She… asked me to break off the wedding. She said she… has a boyfriend. And…” His voice trailed, tension tightening in his chest. “She was… slightly drunk.”

Kazuo’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of disbelief crossing his face. “What?!”

Kenji, unable to resist, leaned forward dramatically. “I told you, Kazuo-san! Women are like… emotional hurricanes! They sneak in, wreck lives, and leave you haunted forever. Don’t even try to explain it with logic!”

Haruto pinched the bridge of his nose. “Kenji!”

“Step one in surviving women, sir,” Kenji continued, ignoring the glare. “Accept chaos as inevitable. Step two: brace for emotional tornadoes. Step three: hope your heart survives.”

Takeda Emiko, seated beside Kazuo, chuckled quietly. “Honestly, Kazuo… he’s not exaggerating. You should hear Kenji’s version—he makes it sound like a horror story.”

Kazuo groaned, rubbing his temples. “Not this again,” he muttered, though his voice had more dramatic flair than despair. “Every time there’s a minor incident… it escalates to total catastrophe.”

Emiko nodded, suppressing a laugh. “Well… minor incident, major catastrophe. That seems to be our family motto whenever Haruto is involved.”

Meanwhile, across the aisle, the Fujimoto parents were in a mild panic. Hiroshi Fujimoto adjusted his glasses nervously, muttering, “So… she’s… she’s drunk… and… asking him to break off the wedding?”

“Exactly,” Emiko said, leaning slightly forward. “And he’s very serious about it. He didn’t laugh. He didn’t dismiss her. He actually… considered her words.”

“Not again!” Hiroshi Fujimoto suddenly shouted, startling a few nearby passengers. His face turned crimson, hands gripping the edge of the table. “Why does she always—always do this?! Every engagement… every discussion… it’s chaos!”

Kenji, of course, leaned back with exaggerated admiration. “Bravo, sir! You’ve officially joined the ranks of the emotionally haunted men! Welcome!”

Haruto ignored him, his jaw tight. He had expected the families to be dramatic, yes, but nothing prepared him for the sheer magnitude of this escalating chaos.

Kazuo groaned again. “Emiko… this is… utterly absurd. First, the fainting incident. Then… now… this.”

Emiko placed a hand on his arm. “Kazuo… she’s not the only one. Haruto has his share of… complications too.”

Haruto exhaled softly, eyes fixed on the snowy landscape outside. “It’s… not just her. I… I like her. And I don’t want to just ignore this. But…” He trailed off, frustrated. “I can’t force her to feel the same. And now… this situation.”

Kenji leaned forward again, dramatically holding his hands to his chest. “Ah… romance! The sweet agony! Step four: accept the madness! Step five: laugh at your doomed life while being secretly terrified!”

Meanwhile, Fujimoto Hanako whispered urgently to her husband, “Hiroshi… we need to stop this. Sakura is… unpredictable. She’ll ruin everything if we don’t intervene.”

Hiroshi groaned again, hands flying over his face. “Not this again! Not the wedding!”

Haruto’s lips pressed into a thin line. He felt the weight of both families’ anxiety pressing down on him. He had hoped to protect everyone from the drama, but it was too late. The wedding—already a delicate dance of emotions—was slipping into full-blown chaos.

Sakura, somewhere down the corridor, likely giggling to herself and entirely unaware of the turmoil she had caused, hummed faintly. Haruto imagined her mischievous grin and felt a pang of both amusement and exasperation.

Finally, Kazuo leaned back, throwing his hands into the air. “Enough! Cancel it! The wedding is canceled! Until further notice!”

Emiko blinked in surprise. “Canceled?”

“Yes!” Kazuo exclaimed. “We will not allow this… chaotic circus to continue! Haruto… you’re free from all obligations until we can determine… sanity!”

Kenji clapped his hands, nearly tipping over his water bottle in excitement. “Bravo! Victory! Haruto, my friend, you are officially untangled from immediate doom!”

Haruto, however, remained silent, staring out the window. His feelings for Sakura hadn’t changed, but the absurdity of the situation—the chaos, the drunken antics, the screaming fathers—made it impossible to respond logically.

Fujimoto Hiroshi muttered, red-faced, “Not again… not again…”

Emiko Takeda shook her head, smiling faintly. “Well… at least now, it’s officially chaos. Everyone can relax… in their own way.”

Kenji leaned over to Haruto, whispering conspiratorially, “Don’t worry. Step six: enjoy the show. Step seven: survive. Step eight… maybe, just maybe… this is where the fun begins.”

Haruto let out a long, exasperated sigh. Somehow, amidst the yelling, the laughter, and the chaos of two families colliding in a moving train, he realized that no matter how unpredictable or maddening Sakura could be, this was only the beginning. And deep down, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it.

The wedding was canceled. The families were in uproar. And the unpredictable, chaotic romance of Haruto and Sakura had just taken its first dramatic turn.