The more I thought about it, the more I realized that moving out wasn't something you did overnight. It was a process. One that took time.
Still, things were already in motion—and luckily for me, I didn't have to wait long.
Right after my shift ended at 9:30 PM, Tetsu and I headed out to look for apartments. We had about an hour to kill, and somehow, he'd already lined up a few options. Typical Tetsu.
Most of them were in Yokomachi, close to Nawate-dori, tucked just far enough into the residential area that the noise of the main street faded into something distant and harmless.
The one that caught my attention was a small flat on the top floor of an old apartment block. Nothing fancy. Just quiet. High enough to feel removed from everything else.
For the first time in a while, the idea of having my own place didn't feel like a fantasy.
It felt real.
I rushed up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and reached the door long before Tetsu did. I waited, catching my breath, until he finally reached the floor and let out a hearty laugh.
"You're really excited about this, kid," he said.
"Sorry," I said, rubbing the back of my neck. "I didn't even realize I ran ahead…"
He chuckled, then reached for the key.
A moment later, he opened the door to the flat.
It was small.
White walls pressed in gently. A narrow bed sat tucked into the left corner, its frame cold and bare. On the right, a tiny kitchen clung to the wall—two burners, a shallow sink, a fridge barely bigger than a suitcase—cut off by a short divider that only pretended to be a wall.
The bathroom was near the entrance, off a narrow hall. Clean, chipped tiles. The faint smell of disinfectant.
Seven square meters.
I paced it out, heel to toe. Three steps from the door to the bed. Two to the counter. I ran my fingers along the divider's rough paint, nudged the small table by the window. It wobbled, but held.
Not bad for a loner.
"Yeah," I said, turning to Tetsu. "I'm fine with this one."
He leaned against the doorframe, gave the room a final glance, then nodded.
"Aight. I'll make the preparations so you can move in tomorrow after school."
Tomorrow.
I looked back at the bed and the empty walls, already picturing my things in place.
Peace, quiet and privacy.
Everything I needed.
"Works for me."
With nothing left to do, we stepped out into the spring air of late-evening Matsumoto.
The city had softened—traffic thinning, storefront lights glowing warmer, the chill just sharp enough to keep me awake.
Tetsu checked his phone, then glanced at me.
"You good getting home?"
"Yeah," I said. "I'll grab an Uber."
He waved it off, already tapping the screen.
"Nah. I got this one."
I raised an eyebrow. "Since when are you generous?"
He smirked. "Since you didn't complain about the room."
A car icon slid closer on the map. When it pulled up, the headlights cut clean lines across the pavement—sleek, quiet, unmistakable.
A Tesla.
I let out a short laugh. "You serious?"
"Enjoy it," Tetsu said, stepping back. "You won't get used to it if you don't try."
I shook his hand as the driver unlocked the doors, then slipped inside. The interior smelled new, faintly synthetic, the seats smooth and cool beneath my palms.
I had to admit—going home in a Tesla was cool as fuck.
The car surged forward almost silently, gliding through Matsumoto's streets, slipping past traffic with effortless speed. Streetlights streaked by, reflections sliding across the windshield like water.
Less than twenty minutes later, I was home.
I checked the time.
10:25 PM.
It seemed like no one was awake. The lights were off everywhere, the house sunk into a shallow, uneasy sleep. The hallway smelled faintly of detergent and cold air, my footsteps swallowed by the floorboards.
Only Kaede's room was still alive, dimly lit by the pale glow of a computer screen leaking through the gap beneath her door. A soft, electronic hum bled into the silence.
I paused there, hand hovering at my side.
I guess it doesn't even matter if I make it anymore or not.
I looked away, toward the darkened rooms, toward places that stopped feeling like home a long time ago.
Don't worry, Mom. Kaede.
Tomorrow, it'll be just the two of you ladies.
Just like you always wanted.
I walked slowly, careful not to disturb the silence, then pushed open the door to my room and let myself fall onto the bed. The mattress creaked softly beneath me, familiar in a way I hadn't noticed before.
And maybe—for the first time in what felt like years—I slept early.
I woke up in a good mood.
The realization itself felt strange. My body was lighter, my head clear. I got out of bed without dragging my feet, then descended the stairs, one step at a time, following the faint clatter of movement toward the kitchen.
Mom and Kaede were already there.
Morning light spilled through the window, catching dust in the air. The kettle sat on the stove. Plates were laid out like it was any other day.
I raised a hand in acknowledgment.
"Good morning," I said—greeting them for the first and last time in years.
The words hung there, heavier than they should've been.
My chest felt hollow. I looked at their faces, frozen in shock, eyes wide like they hadn't expected to hear my voice at all. And for a brief, stupid moment, I wondered—
What if we never fought?
If we never broke apart as a family, would this moment hurt more… or less?
"Good morning, Takumi."
"Good morning, Onii-chan."
They said it in unison.
I could feel the tears forming at the corners of my eyes, hot and sudden.
"I'm sorry. I'll be going ahead," I said, my voice steadier than I felt.
I grabbed a quick bite of eggs and toast—barely tasting it—then turned and made my way out before anyone could say anything else.
I didn't look back.
And the moment the door closed behind me, the tears spilled freely, blurring the world as I stepped outside.
Sayonara.
The word replayed in my head, over and over—
a blessing and a curse.