The morning air was cool and quiet when I stepped out of the house.
Mom had handed me a short list before I could even sit down. Milk. Eggs. Bread. Nothing complicated. Still, it felt strange being out this early with nowhere to rush to.
No school.
No club.
Just errands.
I walked down the familiar street toward the local market, hands in my pockets, letting my thoughts drift. My body still felt heavy from the past weeks of training. Not sore in the sharp way anymore, just a constant, dull reminder that I'd been pushing myself harder than before.
Every step felt measured now.
I caught myself adjusting my pace without thinking, avoiding uneven tiles, keeping my balance centered. Training habits didn't switch off easily.
The market was already awake. Shop shutters half open, vendors arranging crates, the smell of fresh bread mixing with the sharp scent of vegetables. I moved through the aisles, picking things up one by one, checking prices out of habit even though I already knew them.
While waiting at the counter, my phone buzzed.
A message from Kenta.
"Practice today?"
I stared at the screen for a second, then typed back.
"Yeah. Later."
Simple. Direct.
I slipped the phone back into my pocket, paid for the groceries, and stepped outside again. The sun had climbed a little higher now, warming the pavement.
It was just a normal morning.
But somewhere between the weight of the shopping bag in my hand and the steady rhythm of my steps, I felt it.
This quiet stretch before things started moving again.
And I knew it wouldn't last long.
On the way back, I slowed down near the corner bookstore.
I didn't plan to stop.
I never planned to stop.
My feet did it on their own.
The glass window reflected rows of colorful covers stacked neatly inside. Manga. Light novels. Posters from popular series. The kind of place that quietly drains your wallet if you stay too long.
I leaned closer to the display.
And there it was.
The new volume.
My favorite fantasy RPG series.
My brain froze.
"No way," I muttered under my breath.
The cover alone was unfair. New armor design. Dramatic pose. The kind that screamed important arc incoming. I already knew the plot would hook me, ruin my sleep schedule, and make me regret starting it right before exams.
My hand hovered near the door.
Then my other brain cell woke up.
Video games.
I imagined the savings envelope at home. Not much, but enough. Almost enough. If I bought this now, the game would have to wait. Again.
I stared at the price tag.
"That's not expensive," I whispered.
Immediately followed by, "That's how it gets you."
I pictured myself playing the new game, controller in hand, fully immersed.
Then I pictured myself reading the new volume in one sitting, ignoring everything else.
Both images felt equally powerful.
I crossed my arms, standing in front of the store like I was facing a boss fight.
"If I buy this," I reasoned silently, "I'm responsible."
My stomach replied, "But what if it sells out?"
Traitor.
I glanced around, as if someone might judge me for my hesitation. No one cared. Of course they didn't. This was my personal crisis.
After a long moment, I exhaled slowly.
"…I'll just look."
Famous last words.
I pushed the door open, already knowing I was in trouble.
The bell above the door rang softly as I stepped inside.
Instant mistake.
The smell of paper and ink hit me like a critical strike. Shelves lined up perfectly, packed with temptation. I walked straight to the fantasy section like I'd memorized the route. Which I had.
There it was again. Up close this time.
The new volume sat neatly in the middle, shining like it knew exactly what it was doing. I picked it up, flipped it over, scanned the summary.
New region unlocked.
New characters.
High-stakes quest.
I was done.
I clutched the book to my chest, then immediately pulled it away like it might burn me.
"No," I whispered. "We're thinking long-term."
I imagined future-me staring sadly at a game store window, wallet light, heart heavy.
Then another thought crept in.
Future-me could also be reading this right now.
I turned a few pages. Just a few. Clean art. Crisp dialogue. That familiar world pulling me in like it always did.
I snapped the book shut.
Focus.
I checked my wallet.
Enough money. Barely.
My mind started doing math it had no right doing. If I skipped snacks for a week… If I didn't buy drinks after practice… If I walked instead of taking the bus once or twice…
This was dangerous thinking.
I sighed and glanced toward the counter. The cashier was busy rearranging something, completely unaware of the moral struggle happening ten feet away.
"Okay," I muttered. "Compromise."
I held the book again, lighter this time.
"I'll buy this," I told myself, "and save harder."
It sounded responsible enough.
I marched to the counter before I could change my mind, placed the book down, and paid.
As I stepped back outside, bag in one hand and manga in the other, I looked down at the cover.
Worth it.
Probably.
I headed home, already planning how to hide it in my room so it wouldn't look like an impulse buy.
Some battles you lose willingly.
As I stepped out of the bookstore, adjusting the bag in my hand, I nearly walked straight into someone.
"Careful."
I stopped short.
Aoi stood there, hands in the pockets of her jacket, looking way too amused for someone who'd almost been shoulder-checked.
"…You again," I said.
She glanced at the bookstore behind me, then at the bag. "Manga?"
I hesitated for half a second. "Groceries," I said, then sighed. "And manga."
She smiled like she'd expected that answer. "New release?"
"Yeah."
"That explains the serious face," she said lightly. "You looked like you were deciding the fate of the world."
I frowned. "It was important."
"I'm sure it was."
We stood there for a moment, the street busy but calm. It wasn't awkward. Just… unexpected.
Then Aoi tilted her head slightly. "Hey, I was about to grab coffee. You free?"
I blinked. "Coffee?"
"Just coffee," she added, casual. "You look like someone who needs it."
I thought about the groceries. About practice later. About how this morning had already gone off-script the moment I stopped at the bookstore.
"…Sure," I said after a beat. "For a bit."
She nodded once, satisfied. "There's a place nearby."
And just like that, my quiet morning took another turn as we started walking down the street together.
We walked side by side, not in a rush.
The café Aoi mentioned was small, tucked between two older buildings. Nothing fancy. Just a chalkboard menu outside and the smell of roasted beans drifting onto the street.
She held the door open with her foot. "After you."
"Thanks."
Inside, it was quiet. A few people scattered around, laptops open, headphones on. The kind of place where no one cared how long you stayed as long as you didn't cause trouble.
We ordered quickly. Nothing complicated. I went with whatever was cheapest that still counted as coffee. She noticed.
"You're the type who checks prices first," she said.
"I'm the type who regrets not checking prices," I replied.
She laughed softly and took a seat near the window. I sat across from her, setting the shopping bag carefully by my feet like it contained something fragile. Which, honestly, it did.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Not an awkward silence. More like a pause.
"So," she said, resting her chin on her hand, "you train like that every day now?"
I looked up. "You were watching more than once, weren't you?"
"Maybe," she said without denying it. "You don't play like someone who's satisfied."
I thought about that. "I'm not."
She nodded, like that answer made sense to her.
The coffee arrived, breaking the moment. I took a sip and immediately regretted it. Too hot.
Aoi noticed. "Careful."
"I know," I muttered, waiting for my tongue to forgive me.
She smiled, then glanced at the bag again. "Let me guess. You told yourself you'd just look."
"…Yeah."
"Classic," she said. "Those are the worst lies."
I exhaled through my nose. "You sound experienced."
"I am," she said immediately. "That's why my whole pocket money is spent."
I glanced at her. "Seriously?"
She shrugged. "Books, coffee, random snacks I don't need. It adds up fast."
"…That doesn't make me feel better about my purchase."
"That's because it shouldn't," she said, completely unapologetic.
Everything else in the scene stays the same.
If you want, next we can either let this coffee scene end cleanly or use it to set up something badminton-related again so the focus doesn't drift.
Aoi took a slow sip of her coffee, then looked at me over the rim of the cup.
"You know," she said casually, "you're way more serious than I expected."
I raised an eyebrow. "Is that a bad thing?"
She tilted her head, pretending to think. "Depends. Serious people are reliable… but they're also fun to tease."
"That so?"
She smiled. "Mm-hmm. Like how you keep glancing at the time but won't actually say you're in a hurry."
"I already said I have practice."
"Yeah, but you didn't stand up," she pointed out. "So either you're lying, or you don't mind staying."
I opened my mouth, then closed it.
She laughed, clearly pleased. "Relax. I won't hold you hostage."
I shook my head. "You talk like this to everyone?"
"Nope," she said. "Only people who look like they'd overtrain and forget to enjoy things."
"That's very specific."
"Observation skills," she said lightly. "Comes with experience."
She leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms. "Besides, it's kind of nice seeing someone who's this focused."
I felt a flicker of awkwardness and immediately pushed it down. "It's just badminton."
"Sure," she replied, smiling. "Still counts."
A moment later, she stood up, grabbing her bag. "Alright. I'll let you go before your serious side gets mad at me."
I stood too. "Thanks… for the coffee."
She paused near the door and glanced back. "Next time, you're choosing the place."
"Next time?"
She grinned. "If our paths cross again."
Then she waved once and stepped outside, leaving the café door swinging gently behind her.
I stayed still for a second, then exhaled.
…Yeah.
That was definitely her teasing.
Nothing more.
I picked up my bag, already shifting my thoughts back to practice.
I headed home after that, the café already fading behind me.
The walk felt quieter than before. Same streets, same houses, but my head was clearer. I adjusted the shopping bag in my hand, feeling the weight of the groceries bump lightly against my leg with each step.
Aoi's words replayed once, then stopped.
I didn't let them linger.
By the time I reached my street, my focus had already shifted back to practice. Footwork. Stamina. Placement. The usual loop. The stuff that actually mattered.
I unlocked the door and stepped inside.
"Back already?" Mom called from the kitchen.
"Yeah," I replied, setting the bags down. "Got everything."
I carried the groceries over, then slipped away to my room before anything else could come up. The manga went straight into my bag, unopened. A problem for later.
I sat on the edge of my bed for a moment, rolling my shoulders, feeling the familiar tightness settle in.
Training was in a few hours.
I lay back, stared at the ceiling, and let my breathing slow.
The morning was over.
Next came the real work.
Just as I was about to grab my shoes for practice, Mom poked her head into my room
.
"Haruto," she said, tilting her head. "Your brother's coming back today… do you think you could stay home for a bit? Maybe help with lunch or just… you know, be around?"
I froze mid-movement, shoes in hand.
"…Today?" I asked.
She nodded, giving me that soft, slightly pleading look she always got when she wanted something without sounding like she was asking.
"Yeah. He's been away for a while," she continued. "It'd be nice if you were here when he got home."
I scratched the back of my neck, glancing toward the window where the sun was climbing higher. Practice was waiting, but… family.
"Uh… yeah, sure. I can stay," I said finally, trying to sound casual.
Mom's face lit up instantly. "Great! I'll start getting things ready. Thanks, Haruto."
I set my shoes down, still a little torn, and headed to the kitchen. Practice could wait a little—today, at least, family came first.
I followed Mom into the kitchen, the smell of cooking already filling the air. She was bustling around, chopping vegetables and humming softly to herself, the kind of calm energy that made the house feel warmer.
"So… he's actually coming back today?" I asked, trying to sound casual.
Mom nodded, wiping her hands on a towel. "Yes, he landed this morning. Should be here any minute. I thought you might want to see him first."
I frowned slightly. My older brother had always been… larger than life. Confident, full of energy, and somehow intimidating even at home. The thought of him stepping through the door, catching me off guard, made me shift nervously.
"Don't worry," Mom said, reading my expression. "He'll be happy to see you. And it's not like he's judging you for staying home instead of… whatever else you were doing."
I nodded, trying to push the lingering worry aside. "Yeah… okay."
I took a deep breath and leaned against the counter, looking out the window. The street outside was quiet, the early afternoon sun casting long shadows across the pavement. Aoi's teasing and the café already felt like a distant memory, replaced by a different kind of anticipation.
The sound of a car pulling into the driveway made me jump slightly. Mom peeked out the window and smiled.
"Here he is," she said.
My heart thumped. I tried to steady my breathing, telling myself this was just family. Nothing to overthink.
And then the door opened.
The door swung open, and he stepped in.
My older brother. Taller than I remembered, his backpack slung over one shoulder, a grin plastered across his face. He looked around, eyes landing on me almost immediately.
"Haruto!" he called, voice louder than the hum of the house, full of energy. "You're home too, huh?"
I froze for a split second, then managed a small nod. "Yeah… welcome back."
He dropped his bag near the door and took a few long strides toward me, clapping me lightly on the shoulder. "Man, it's been a while! How've you been keeping up?"
"Good… mostly," I muttered, still a little awkward under his intense energy.
Mom peeked from the kitchen. "Why don't you two sit? Lunch will be ready in a bit."
He followed her gesture but kept glancing at me, like he wanted to catch up immediately.
"So," he said as he plopped down at the table, "what's new? Still training like a maniac?"
I felt heat rise to my cheeks. "Yeah… mostly."
He laughed, loud and carefree. "Of course you are. Didn't expect anything less."
We started talking, the conversation bouncing between school, badminton, and random life updates. I realized quickly that despite the initial awkwardness, having him back home made the space feel alive again.
For now, training could wait. Family came first.
And sitting across from him, I felt a strange kind of calm. A pause in the grind, a reminder that some things—like family—were just as important as every shuttle I hit.
I could feel my stomach twist the moment he smirked.
"So…" he said, leaning back in his chair, elbows on the table, "any girlfriends lately?"
I choked on my sip of water. "W-what?"
He laughed, loud and unapologetic. "Come on, don't act all innocent. You've been training all the time—surely someone's caught your eye."
I waved my hands frantically. "N-no! That's not—"
Mom peeked in, trying not to smile. "Haruto, don't squirm too much. He's just teasing."
"Teasing?" my brother said, grinning wider. "I call it being observant. You spend all your time at badminton or the bookstore. If someone hasn't noticed you by now, I'd be worried."
I groaned and buried my face in my hands. "I'm too busy!"
"Sure, sure," he said, clearly enjoying it. "Busy. That's what everyone says."
I peeked through my fingers, glare half-hearted. "You're impossible."
He just laughed again, leaning back and shaking his head. "Yep. That's why you're my little brother."
I couldn't tell if I was more embarrassed or annoyed. Either way, the teasing wasn't over, and I knew it.
But for now… at least it was just a joke.
For now.
I leaned back in my chair, rubbing the back of my neck, and couldn't help but remember the past.
When we were younger, my brother had always been… larger than life. The kind of older sibling who knew every answer, ran faster, hit harder, and somehow made every day feel like a challenge I had to keep up with.
I remembered summer afternoons when he dragged me outside to practice soccer or bike races, yelling encouragement—half teasing, half serious—while I tried desperately not to fall behind. I would collapse on the grass, gasping, and he'd just grin, hands on his hips, and say, "One day, you'll thank me for this."
And I had. Sort of.
I remembered the time he helped me with a science project, staying up all night to make sure it was perfect. I had complained endlessly, but he never gave up on me. Even when I sulked and said it wasn't fair, he just shrugged and kept working.
I remembered the quiet moments too. The late nights when we sat on the balcony, talking about dreams and stupid little plans, or the times he'd sneak snacks to me when Mom wasn't looking.
Sitting here now, watching him grin and tease me like he always did, I realized how much I'd missed that. Not just the loud, fun moments, but the small, grounding ones too.
He was my older brother. Always had been, always would be.