The next day began like any other peaceful summer morning.
Which, in hindsight, was the first warning sign.
I was in the living room, half-asleep on the sofa, scrolling aimlessly on my phone and pretending I didn't replay yesterday's awkward walk home at least seventeen times in my head. Kyosuke was at the table, eating cereal straight from the box like a criminal. My parents were out again. The house was quiet.
Too quiet.
Then my phone buzzed.
Saki:
Emergency.
I sat up immediately.
Me:
Define emergency.
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
Saki:
My grandparents are coming.
I stared at the screen.
That was it?
Me:
That's not an emergency. That's just… grandparents.
The reply came instantly.
Saki:
No. THESE grandparents.
A chill ran down my spine.
I had met Saki's grandparents before. Once. Years ago. Briefly. From a safe distance.
Her grandmother had complimented my haircut and asked if I listened to indie music.
Her grandfather had stared at me like I was a suspicious package left unattended at an airport.
Me:
…When are they coming?
Saki:
They already arrived.
I jumped to my feet.
"WHAT," I shouted out loud.
Kyosuke looked up. "You okay?"
"No," I said. "I'm absolutely not okay."
Before he could ask anything else, the doorbell rang.
Once.
Twice.
Then it stopped.
Then it rang again.
Aggressively.
Like the doorbell was angry.
Kyosuke slowly stood. "Why does that feel ominous."
I walked to the window and peeked outside.
And immediately regretted being alive.
Two figures stood in front of Saki's house next door.
One was a tall, broad-shouldered old man with sharp eyes, arms crossed, posture straight enough to shame soldiers. He wore a buttoned shirt tucked perfectly into trousers and carried himself like he was inspecting enemy territory.
The other was an elderly woman in sunglasses, colorful scarf, stylish clothes, tapping on her phone with the confidence of someone who absolutely did not care about societal expectations.
Saki stood between them.
She looked… small.
Terrified.
The door opened.
Saki's dad stepped out.
And then—
The shouting began.
Not angry shouting.
Loud, dramatic, unnecessary shouting.
"SABURO," her grandmother's voice rang out, "STOP GLARING AT THE HOUSE LIKE IT OWES YOU MONEY."
Her grandfather grunted. "I am assessing."
"Assessing WHAT," she snapped, "it's a HOUSE."
Kyosuke leaned over my shoulder. "Oh wow."
"This," I whispered, "is bad."
Saki's dad laughed nervously. "Father, Mother, welcome—"
"Saki!" her grandfather barked suddenly.
She jumped. "Y-Yes, Grandpa!"
"Have you been eating properly?"
"Yes!"
"Sleeping on time?"
"…Mostly."
"Are you safe?"
"Yes!"
He narrowed his eyes. "…Are there any boys nearby?"
I ducked.
Kyosuke choked on laughter.
Saki's grandmother sighed loudly. "Saburo, she's not in a war zone. She's in a city."
"That makes it worse," he replied. "Cities are full of threats."
"Threats like… what?" Saki's dad asked carefully.
"Teenage boys."
I sank to the floor.
Kyosuke whispered, "That's you."
"I KNOW."
Saki's grandmother pushed her sunglasses down slightly and looked around. Her gaze landed on our house.
Then on the window.
Then directly on me.
She smiled.
I froze.
She waved.
I panicked and waved back with both hands like an idiot.
"Oh," she said, amused. "I see him."
Everyone turned.
Every. Single. Person.
Saki followed their gaze.
Our eyes met.
She looked like her soul left her body.
Her grandfather turned sharply. "Who."
"Who what?" Saki asked weakly.
"That boy," he said, pointing directly at our house. "Who is he."
Kyosuke stood beside me. "Should we… run?"
"No," I whispered. "That would look guilty."
Her grandmother laughed. "Relax, Saburo. That's Haruto, right?"
I blinked. "…Yes?"
She clapped her hands once. "Ah! The quiet one. Taller now."
Saki's dad exhaled in relief. "Yes, that's Haruto. Good kid."
Her grandfather squinted harder. "He lives next door?"
"Yes," Saki said quickly. "Since forever."
"…Hmph."
That sound alone shaved five years off my life.
They moved inside Saki's house.
The door closed.
I collapsed onto the couch.
"That," Kyosuke said, "was the announcement."
Ten minutes later, my phone buzzed again.
Saki:
He asked if I have a boyfriend.
I sat up.
Me:
WHAT DID YOU SAY.
Saki:
I laughed. Then I cried a little. Then Grandma changed the topic.
Kyosuke read over my shoulder. "Grandma MVP."
Saki:
Grandpa says he wants to meet you later.
My vision darkened.
Me:
MEET me how.
Saki:
He said 'observe.'
"That's not a meeting," Kyosuke said. "That's an interrogation."
Saki:
He's staying for the whole summer.
My phone nearly slipped out of my hand as soon as her last message sank in.
Observe.
Who uses that word for meeting a person?!
I sat up straight, thumbs already flying across the screen like my life depended on it.
Me:
Park. Now.
Sent.
Immediately followed by—
Me:
Near the swings. Five minutes. Emergency.
Three dots appeared instantly.
Saki:
I'm literally standing next to him.
My soul left my body, came back, and left again.
Me:
ESCAPE.
Saki:
HOW.
I typed so fast I made spelling mistakes. Didn't even care.
Me:
Grandma distraction. Fake errand. Bathroom. ANYTHING.
There was a pause. A long one.
I imagined her grandfather standing there, arms crossed, sensing fear like a shark.
Then—
Saki:
Grandma said she wants ice cream.
I punched the air. "YES."
Me:
GO. I'LL BE THERE.
I shoved my phone into my pocket, grabbed my keys, and was halfway out the door when Kyosuke leaned out of his room.
"Why do you look like you're about to defuse a bomb."
"I am," I said. "Socially."
He grinned. "Say hi to Grandpa Doom for me."
"I hate you."
I sprinted out of the house.
The park was only a few minutes away, but I ran like time itself was chasing me. By the time I reached the swings, I was out of breath, hands on my knees, scanning everywhere like a fugitive.
Then I saw her.
Saki hurried toward me, hair slightly messy, looking over her shoulder like she'd escaped prison.
We stopped in front of each other at the same time.
For one second, we just stared.
Then, simultaneously—
"Oh my god," she said.
"Oh my god," I said.
She grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the bench. "Okay. Listen. We have a problem."
"A big one," I said. "With glasses and intimidation."
"He asked if I'm seeing anyone," she whispered. "Again."
My heart skipped. "And?"
"I said no," she said quickly. "I panicked."
I nodded. "That's fair. I would've said I don't exist."
She groaned and buried her face in her hands. "He's overprotective times a thousand. If he even suspects—"
"He'll bury me," I finished. "Probably legally."
She peeked at me. "…You're not mad?"
"Mad?" I scoffed. "I'm terrified. Different emotion."
That got a small laugh out of her.
She sat down heavily on the bench. "Grandma's cool though. She already suspects something."
"That's worse," I said. "Cool people are dangerous."
She sighed. "What do we do?"
I stared at the ground, then back at her.
"We survive," I said. "Step one: act normal. Step two: no suspicious behavior. Step three: absolutely no blushing."
She stared at me.
"…You turned red just saying that."
"I KNOW."
She laughed, then quickly covered her mouth. "Okay. Okay. We can do this."
I stood up, offering my hand to pull her up.
She hesitated for half a second.
Then took it.
Just for balance.
Definitely just for balance.
"We're just childhood friends," she said firmly.
"Obviously," I agreed.
"Nothing weird."
"Nothing at all."
She nodded. "…He's going to hate you."
"Yeah," I said. "But at least we'll panic together."
She smiled at that.
And for a moment, despite the incoming disaster—
I felt ready.
Almost.
"Alright," she said. "Let's go meet my grandfather."
I swallowed. "If I don't come back—"
"I'll visit your grave," she said seriously.
"…That helps. A little."
And with that, we walked back toward chaos.
The universe, as usual, chose the worst possible timing.
Just as Saki and I were about to leave the park and march bravely toward our doom…
"Wow."
That single word stopped us cold.
I turned.
Kenta stood a few meters away, hands in his pockets, wearing that look. The one that meant he had already decided something terrible and was now enjoying the anticipation.
Beside him, Mei blinked once. Then twice.
"…Oh," she said.
Saki stiffened. "Oh no."
My heart sank. "Please tell me you both just happened to be passing by and saw absolutely nothing."
Kenta grinned wider. "We just happened to be passing by and saw everything."
"We weren't doing anything," I said quickly.
"We were talking," Saki added.
"At a park," I continued. "Like normal people."
Kenta tilted his head. "Funny. You don't usually look like two criminals exchanging classified information."
Mei adjusted her bag strap. "You were holding hands."
We both looked down.
Our hands were still lightly linked.
Silence.
We jumped apart like we'd been electrocuted.
"That was—" I started.
"—balance," Saki said at the exact same time.
Kenta burst out laughing. "BALANCE. That's a new one."
Mei stared at us for a long, quiet moment. Then sighed. "…You're terrible liars."
Saki deflated instantly. "We are."
I rubbed the back of my neck. "…Yeah."
Kenta crossed his arms, eyes sparkling. "So. Want to explain why you look like you're about to confess to a crime?"
Saki and I exchanged a look.
This was it.
We could keep pretending.
Keep dodging.
Keep drowning in awkwardness.
Or—
Saki took a breath. "We should tell them."
My stomach flipped. "…You sure?"
She nodded. "I don't think I can survive more teasing."
Kenta gasped dramatically. "Oh my god. Is it serious."
Mei's eyes widened just a little.
I exhaled. "…Okay."
We sat on the bench. Kenta and Mei stood in front of us like judges.
I spoke first. "So. Um. This is… recent."
"Very recent," Saki added.
Kenta leaned forward. "How recent."
"…Yesterday," we said together.
We panicked and lied.
Kenta froze.
Mei blinked.
Kenta stopped laughing mid-breath.
"Wait," he said slowly. "Yesterday?"
Mei tilted her head. "That doesn't line up."
Saki and I froze.
"…It wasn't yesterday," Saki corrected quickly, waving her hands. "I panicked. Time has no meaning anymore."
I nodded way too fast. "It happened on the second day of the beach trip."
Kenta straightened. "Ohhh."
Mei nodded once. "That makes more sense."
Kenta smirked. "So you've been a couple for, what, a few days now?"
"…Technically," I said.
"Emotionally," Saki added, "about ten years."
Mei smiled. "Accurate."
Kenta laughed again, but softer this time. "Okay, okay. So that explains the resort chaos. And the weird tension. And why you both looked like you were one sentence away from passing out at breakfast."
"Breakfast was traumatic," Saki said seriously.
"I couldn't swallow rice," I added. "That's how bad it was."
Kenta put a hand on my shoulder. "Damn. Real love."
"Don't say it like that," I groaned.
Mei crossed her arms. "So let me summarize."
She pointed at Saki. "You realized you like him during the trip."
Then at me. "You realized it slightly earlier but panicked professionally."
"Very professionally," I muttered.
"And now," she continued, "you're secretly dating, pretending to be normal childhood friends, while her grandfather—"
"—is actively scanning for threats," I finished.
Kenta nodded gravely. "You are so dead."
Saki sighed. "Please stop reminding him."
Kenta grinned. "Relax. Your secret's safe."
Mei nodded. "We won't tell anyone."
I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. "Thank you."
Saki smiled too. "Really. Thank you."
Kenta pointed between us. "But."
Of course there was a but.
"If you do something unbelievably dumb—"
"When," Mei corrected.
"—WHEN you do," Kenta continued, "you have to tell us."
"That's fair," I said.
Saki nodded. "Agreed."
Mei checked her phone. "You should go. Your 'observation session' is probably escalating."
Saki visibly tensed. "Yeah… he doesn't like delays."
Kenta saluted me. "Good luck, soldier."
I swallowed. "If I don't make it—"
"You will," Saki said quickly, grabbing my sleeve for half a second before realizing it and letting go. "You have to."
Kenta raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
Mei smiled knowingly.
As Saki and I turned to leave the park, Kenta called after us:
"Oh, and Haruto?"
I looked back.
"If Grandpa asks— you're just a harmless neighbor."
I nodded seriously. "I will embody harmlessness."
Saki leaned toward me and whispered, "Please don't bow."
"No promises," I whispered back.
And with that, we walked toward Saki's house.
Toward her grandparents.
Toward chaos, judgment, and possible social death.
But now—
At least the timeline was correct.
And somehow, that helped.