Part 7 — The Way He Protects
"…Training again?" she asked softly.
She asked gently because accusing him would make him defensive.
"…Yeah."
Short answer. Minimal explanation.
Meaning: he knew she wouldn't approve, but didn't want to argue.
"You're pushing too hard."
She stated it calmly — not as blame, but concern.
Silence.
Then—
"…Kaito complained again."
He brought Kaito up suddenly because that was the real reason he was upset — not the training itself.
Ayame's hand stilled.
"What happened?"
Open question. No judgment.
Haruto exhaled slowly, staring at the ceiling.
"He saw the bruises this morning. Didn't say anything to me."
His jaw tightened.
"But later… he told Aka."
His anger came from this sequence — silence first, reporting later. That felt like betrayal rather than concern.
"He talked like I was reckless… like I don't know my own limits. Like I need someone watching me all the time."
His fingers curled — frustration mixed with humiliation.
"Why does he do that? Why can't he just talk to me? Or stay quiet?"
His voice lowered.
"…Why does he make me sound weak?"
That was the real wound — not pain, but dignity.
Ayame resumed brushing his hair slowly.
She waited before answering because correcting emotions too quickly makes people resist.
"He wasn't trying to make you weak."
Haruto scoffed faintly.
"He was worried."
"That's not worry," Haruto muttered. "That's control."
Ayame shook her head gently.
"That's Kaito."
She separated intention from behaviour.
"He doesn't know how to say 'I was scared,'" she continued.
"So it comes out as complaining. Or scolding. Or talking to someone else."
She explained the emotional translation — fear → criticism.
"When you get hurt," she said softly,
"you feel frustrated with your body."
She named Haruto's internal experience first so he would feel understood.
Pause.
"Kaito feels afraid of losing you."
Then she named Kaito's.
Haruto went still.
That… changed everything.
"…He never says that," he muttered quietly.
"I know," Ayame replied.
"…He just talks like I'm doing everything wrong."
Her fingers kept moving gently through his hair, steady, patient.
"Some people protect by standing beside you," she said softly.
"Some protect by shouting from a distance."
She wasn't excusing Kaito.
She was helping Haruto understand him.
Haruto swallowed.
His voice dropped.
"…I told him to stop acting like my guardian."
"…I said he can't even keep up with me… so he shouldn't pretend he can protect me."
The words sounded harsher now that he heard them again.
Silence stretched.
"That must have hurt him," Ayame said gently.
"…Yeah."
No resistance this time.
No anger.
Just guilt settling quietly in his chest.
His fingers tightened slightly in her clothes.
"…I'm sorry," he whispered.
Ayame paused her hand.
Not surprised.
Just listening.
"…I didn't mean it like that," he murmured.
"…I was just angry."
She resumed brushing his hair.
"That's good," she said calmly.
He blinked.
"…Good?"
"You realized it."
A small pause.
Then she added softly—
"Now say it to Kaito when he comes back."
Haruto's expression tightened.
"…Yeah."
Not reluctant.
Just nervous.
Agreement meant responsibility.
The room grew quiet again.