Part 3 — The Edge He Almost Crossed
"He died," Haruto said quietly. "I saw the blood coming out."
He suddenly lifted both his hands, holding them up in front of him, staring at them as if they didn't belong to him.
"…I killed him," he said. "With both of these hands."
Akari's breath caught.
"Yesterday," Haruto continued, voice trembling now, "when I was on the sofa… I kept thinking… I should get rid of them."
Akari leaned forward sharply.
"Haruto—hey. Haruto. Look at me."
But he didn't hear her.
"My hands are dangerous," he said, panic bleeding through the numbness. "Who knows… what if I'm the one who kills Ayame?"
His breathing quickened.
"What if I kill someone else?" he whispered. "I know you both won't allow it…"
He suddenly stood up.
"…So I'll do it myself."
"Haruto!" Akari shouted.
But he was already moving.
He ran down the hall, pushed into Renjiro's room, and slammed the door shut. A sharp click followed as the lock turned.
Silence fell over the house—thick, frightening, and fragile.
Haruto picked up the kunai from the table, his right hand gripping it tightly. His left hand rested flat on the table, fingers spread, as if trying to anchor himself. He froze in that position, body tense, mind clouded. His thoughts didn't come clearly—only a heavy, uneasy fog.
Outside, Akari's voice rang sharp.
"Renjiro! Open the door!"
Renjiro didn't wait. He stepped up to the door and with a forceful strike broke through it, the upper section splintering loudly, the lock giving way. Wood shards fell to the floor as he stepped inside, eyes fixed on Haruto.
"Haruto!" Renjiro's voice cut through the room, firm and commanding.
The sound hit Haruto like a shock. His grip loosened, the kunai slipping from his fingers and clattering to the floor. His knees wobbled.
"…Brother… I feel… different… tired… dizzy… uneasy… I don't know what to do…" Haruto whispered, his voice trembling.
Renjiro stayed at Haruto's side, one hand steady on his shoulder, giving support and presence without crowding him.
Haruto swayed, losing his balance, teetering dangerously for a moment.
Renjiro's hand on his shoulder helped keep him upright. Haruto leaned heavily against him, shaking, exhausted.
Akari rushed in behind them, eyes wide with worry. She didn't need to enter fully—seeing Renjiro holding him, she knew he was safe.
Haruto's breathing was shallow, uneven, as the adrenaline drained from his body. Slowly, his eyes fluttered closed, the weight of everything finally catching up with him.
Renjiro stayed close, his hand still on Haruto's shoulder, while Akari hovered nearby, ready to support him. The broken door behind them leaned crookedly in its frame, a quiet reminder of how close it had come.
For a few moments, silence settled over the room. Haruto's breathing gradually slowed, though his body still trembled slightly. The tension of the night hung faintly in the air, but for the first time, a quiet calm began to seep in.
Akari knelt in front of him, gently placing a bowl of miso ramen on the table. "Here… let's finish this," she said softly, pushing the bowl closer. "You need to eat."
Haruto blinked slowly, exhaustion heavy in his eyes. Akari guided the spoon carefully, helping him take a few bites at a time. Renjiro stayed close, hand still resting on Haruto's shoulder, a silent pillar of support.
"Slowly… it's okay," Akari murmured. Haruto nodded weakly, letting her help him, the warmth of her presence and the simple act of eating grounding him after the chaos.
Once he had eaten enough to regain a little strength, he leaned back, letting out a long sigh. His body was heavy with fatigue, too tired to walk on his own.