The evening was quiet in the Sato household. Aiko was working late. Their parents were out. The house settled into that rare, peaceful emptiness that Kaito secretly preferred.
He sat at his desk, the small package before him like a sacred artifact.
His movements were precise. Deliberate. Almost ceremonial.
First, the gift itself—wrapped in soft tissue paper, nestled carefully in a small box. Then the wrapping paper: a subtle pattern of cherry blossoms, chosen because it was elegant without being flashy. The folds were crisp. The edges aligned perfectly. The tape was invisible.
He wrapped it like he was defusing a bomb. Like the fate of nations depended on every crease.
Satisfactory.
He was about to place it in his bag when his window slid open with a soft creak.
"Kaito-san! I'm here!"
Kaito didn't turn around. His voice was flat but carried an edge. "Yuki. How many times have I told you to use the door?"
Yuki climbed through the window with practiced ease, dropping onto his floor and brushing off her clothes. "Door is boring. Window is faster." She bounced over to his desk. "Ooh! Is that the gift? Let me see!"
"No."
"Just a peek!"
"No."
She pouted but didn't push. Instead, she flopped onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. "Aiko-nee not home?"
"Working late."
Yuki sighed contentedly. "Perfect. I'm starving. What's for dinner?"
Kaito finally turned, his expression caught between annoyance and something softer. "You're eating here again?"
"Obviously. Your house has better food than mine."
Kaito stood, carefully placing the wrapped gift in his bag before leading the way to the kitchen. Yuki followed, chattering about her day, her gift choice, her near-disaster with wrapping paper.
They moved around the kitchen with easy familiarity—Yuki setting the table while Kaito heated leftovers. It was domestic. Comfortable. The kind of rhythm built over years of friendship.
As they ate, Kaito's voice cut through the casual noise. "When will you drop the act?"
Yuki's chopsticks paused mid-air. Then she smiled—not her usual bright, chaotic grin, but something softer. More genuine.
"On my birthday," she said quietly. "When I invite them over. I'll tell them then."
Kaito studied her. "You're enjoying this."
"Of course I am!" The grin returned, full force. "Watching everyone's reactions, seeing Riko-chan get all flustered, Hikari-chan trying to figure me out—it's the most fun I've had in years!" She pointed her chopsticks at him. "Besides, you're enjoying it too. Admit it."
Kaito said nothing. But he didn't deny it.
Yuki laughed. "See? You're almost human these days. Progress!"
---
The long-awaited day arrived.
Saturday morning dawned clear and bright, as if the universe itself approved of the occasion.
Kaito checked his bag three times. The gift was still there. Still perfect.
At the Tanaka household, Hikari stared at her reflection for a full five minutes before deciding the hoodie was fine. The small package sat on her desk, waiting. Kenji yelled from the living room, "HAVE FUN! BE SOCIAL! MAKE ME PROUD!" She ignored him.
Yuki bounced around her room, already dressed, already vibrating with excitement. Her gift was ready. Her secret was waiting. Today was going to be perfect.
At the Aoyama household, Riko woke early. She stared at her ceiling, feeling that unfamiliar warmth again. Today, for the first time, her home would host something she'd never had before.
Friends.
Real ones.
She smiled—small, private, real—and began preparing.
Everything went smoothly. The car arrangements were made. The house was ready. Her parents were curious but respectful. Mei was suspiciously cheerful, which Riko noted but decided not to question.
One by one, her guests would arrive.
One by one, her world would change.
(End of Chapter 65)