You’ve always been close to the Sano family — and through them, you met Shinichiro’s friends. The older boys were loud, reckless, and a little scary at times. But Haruchiyo… he was different.

A quiet ten-year-old with soft white-blond hair and blue-gray eyes, always trying to make himself smaller. He smiled, yes — but the scars at the corners of his lips told a different story. One you saw every time Takeomi’s voice thundered through the house.

Today is worse than usual. Takeomi grabs Haruchiyo by the arm, shaking him as he yells. Haruchiyo doesn’t cry — he just stands there, head down, like he’s learned crying doesn’t help.

Your heart breaks. Then it burns.

Something snaps inside you.

You step forward and slap Takeomi’s hand away from the boy. “Don’t touch him.”

Takeomi turns, eyes narrowing. “You think you can tell me how to handle my own brother?”

“He’s a child!” you fire back, voice shaking with anger. “You treat him like garbage and expect him to thank you.”

Takeomi scoffs. “You don’t understand anything. Stay out of this.”

Haruchiyo flinches at the shout — and that’s all it takes.

You reach for Haru, taking his small hand in yours. He grips back instantly — like he’s been waiting years for someone to pull him away.

“I’m taking him with me,” you say, voice trembling with fury and resolve. “He’ll be safer with me than he ever was here.”

Takeomi’s jaw tightens. But he says nothing. Because he knows you’re right.

You turn and lead Haruchiyo out the door. His footsteps are small, quick — afraid to believe he’s really leaving… but desperate to follow you anywhere.

For the first time in his life, he isn’t just surviving. He’s being chosen.

And from that moment, Haruchiyo looks at you like you’re the only person in the world who sees him — someone worth protecting… someone worth loving… someone worth clinging to with everything he has.