Shattered, Yet Unbroken

Haruto's POV

“You waste all your time with that nonsense!” my mother had snapped earlier that morning.

“Do you think a ball will pay the bills?!” my father added, his words hitting harder than usual.

I didn’t respond. I just clenched my fists, swallowed the lump in my throat, and walked out the door. I didn’t want their voices to follow me into the day, but they always did, echoing in my head like a bad song on repeat.

***

I tried to shake it off as I reached the café. The place was buzzing with life, a stark contrast to the chaos I’d left at home. The scent of coffee and cocoa filled the air, mingling with the soft hum of conversations.

“Haruto!”

Hinata’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. She stood near the entrance, her cheeks slightly pink from the cold. Her usual school uniform had been replaced by a cozy sweater and a scarf that made her look even more radiant than usual.

“You’re here early,” she said with a smile.

“Yeah,” I replied, scratching the back of my neck. “Didn’t want to be late.”

She laughed softly, and for a moment, the tension in my chest eased.

We stepped inside, and the warmth of the café enveloped us. The workshop area was set up in a cozy corner, with small stations lined with bowls of chocolate, molds, and other supplies. A cheerful instructor greeted us, handing out aprons and explaining the basics.

“This is going to be messy,” I muttered as I tied the apron around my waist.

“That’s part of the fun,” Hinata replied, her eyes sparkling.

The workshop began, and we quickly got to work. Hinata seemed surprisingly skilled, her hands steady as she melted the chocolate and filled the molds. Meanwhile, I was struggling to keep the chocolate from spilling everywhere.

“You’re hopeless,” she teased, laughing as she handed me a napkin to wipe the smudge of chocolate off my hand.

“I never said I was good at this,” I shot back, though her laughter was contagious.

As the session went on, the initial awkwardness faded, replaced by a sense of ease I hadn’t felt in a long time. For a while, it felt like the weight of home and everything else didn’t exist. It was just us, sharing jokes and small moments over trays of half-made chocolates.

When we finished, the instructor let us take home our creations. Hinata held up her box of neatly molded chocolates with pride, while I stared at my own uneven attempts.

“Yours looks like a disaster,” she said, though her tone was more amused than judgmental.

“Yeah, well, at least I tried,” I replied, pretending to be offended.

As we stepped out of the café, the late afternoon sun painted the sky in hues of orange and pink. The cold air was sharp against my skin, but it didn’t bother me as much now.

“Thanks for inviting me,” Hinata said as we walked down the quiet street.

“I should be the one thanking you,” I replied. “If you didn’t say yes, I probably would’ve chickened out.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “It was fun. I’m glad we did this.”

I glanced at her, and for a moment, I wondered if she could see through me, past the jokes, past the smiles, to the parts of me that were still unraveling.

“Hey,” I said, my voice quieter now. “Thanks.”

She tilted her head. “For what?”

“For just… being here, I guess,” I said, shoving my hands into my pockets.

Her expression softened, and she nodded, as if she understood without needing an explanation.

The walk home was quiet but not uncomfortable. When we reached her street, she turned to me, her smile small but genuine.

“See you on Monday?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I replied.

As she stepped inside, I felt the knot in my chest loosen just a little. For the first time in what felt like forever, the world didn’t seem so heavy.

I glanced down at the box of chocolates in my hand, a faint smile tugging at my lips. Maybe it wasn’t the most exciting day, but it was enough. Sometimes, that’s all you really need.

***

I walked home with the box of chocolates tucked under my arm. The streets were quiet, and the cool evening air brushed against my face, but it did little to calm the nervous thrum in my chest. I’d spent all day at the workshop, making these for Hinata. She’d smiled so much today, and I wanted to see that same expression tomorrow when I gave her this gift.

As I reached the front door, I braced myself. The house was dark except for the harsh glow of the living room light spilling into the hallway. The moment I stepped in, my father’s voice hit me.

“Where have you been?” His tone was sharp, filled with the usual edge that made my stomach churn.

I hesitated, gripping the box a little tighter. “Out,” I replied, keeping my voice even.

“Out? All day?” My mother’s voice joined in now, her words colder than the winter air I’d just escaped. “Do you have any idea what time it is? And what’s that you’re carrying?”

“It’s nothing.”

My father stood, his eyes narrowing as he crossed the room toward me. He grabbed the box from my hands before I could pull away.

“Give that back!” I reached out, but he was faster.

“What is this?” He turned it over, examining the carefully wrapped package with a sneer.

“It’s just chocolates,” I said, the words tumbling out, desperation creeping into my voice.

“For who?” My father raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been wasting your time on this?”

He dropped the box onto the floor. My heart sank as I heard the soft thud. Then, before I could react, his foot came down on it. The cardboard gave way with a sickening crunch, and I froze.

“You’re pathetic,” he muttered, turning his back on me. “No wonder you’ll never amount to anything.”

My mother shook her head, her face filled with disappointment. “You spend all your time on useless things like this. Why can’t you be more like—”

“I get it,” I interrupted. My voice was quieter than I wanted it to be, but I couldn’t bear to hear more.

They both left the room, the door to their bedroom slamming shut behind them. I stood there, staring at the broken chocolates on the floor. The shiny wrappers had burst open, revealing crushed pieces of what I’d worked so hard to make.

I wanted to scream, to punch something, but I didn’t. Instead, I bent down, picking up the scattered pieces and tossing them into the trash. My fingers hovered over the bin for a moment. The sight of the crushed chocolates brought a lump to my throat.

I sighed and went to my room, sinking into my chair. My notebook sat on the desk, the recipe I’d written during the workshop sticking out from the pages. I flipped it open, scanning the notes I’d scribbled with so much care just hours ago.

I couldn’t let it end like this.

I grabbed my wallet, counting the crumpled bills and coins inside. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do. Pulling on my coat, I slipped out into the night.

The air was colder than before, biting at my face as I hurried to the convenience store. I must have looked ridiculous, standing in the aisle at this hour, staring at rows of cocoa powder and sugar. But I didn’t care. I grabbed what I needed and paid the cashier, avoiding his curious glance.

Back home, the kitchen was silent, the faint hum of the fridge the only sound. I laid out the ingredients and got to work.

Melting chocolate wasn’t as easy as it looked during the workshop. I had to redo it twice before I got the consistency right. My hands shook as I shaped each piece, my fingers stiff from the cold and exhaustion.

“Just one more,” I muttered under my breath, forcing myself to focus.

By the time I finished, the clock on the microwave read 2:07 a.m. The chocolates weren’t perfect—some were uneven, and a few looked lopsided—but they were mine. I packed them into a box, tying the ribbon carefully before sitting down at the kitchen table.

I stared at the box for a long time, my head resting on my folded arms. Tomorrow was Valentine’s Day, and I was going to give these to Hinata, no matter what.

Even if I had to stay up all night, even if I had to endure my parents’ anger again, I wanted to see her smile. That thought alone kept me awake, even as my body begged for rest.

I wouldn’t let anyone ruin this for me. Not this time.

To be continued…