Chapter 7: A strange dream

"My god, this actually happened?" Yuka's mother gasped, her hand covering her mouth as a mix of shock and worry flashed across her face. Turning to Hayato, her eyes shimmered with unshed tears of gratitude. She clasped his hands tightly, her voice trembling with emotion. "I cannot thank you enough for saving my daughter."

Hayato's cheeks flushed faintly, a hint of embarrassment flickering across his face. Despite his awkwardness, a sense of relief washed over him, knowing he had been able to save her in the end. "No, it was only natural," he replied, his voice humble yet firm.

"Yuka's mother! I need the ingredients here!" a hurried voice of a man called out, cutting off any further conversation.

"Ah, I'm so sorry, Amane-kun," Yuka's mother said apologetically, glancing toward the kitchen. "We're a bit swamped right now, so I can't properly thank you at the moment. But if you don't mind waiting a little, I'll treat you to our famous yakisoba."

Turning to her daughter, she added, "Yuka, tend to him quickly and then come down to help. We've got even more customers than usual today, and even your grandma is helping."

Yuka nodded and motioned for Hayato to follow her upstairs. However, just as her mother turned to head back to work, Hayato hesitated before calling out to her.

"Umm, if it's alright… could I help too?" he asked, his tone sincere.

Yuka's mother froze for a moment, a slight panic flashing across her face. "No, no, how could we possibly ask that of you?" she said, shaking her head firmly. "You've already risked your life to save our daughter, and you're injured on top of that."

Hayato offered her a confident smile. "Don't worry, these are just scratches. I'd be happy to help," he said reassuringly.

Yuka's mother hesitated, torn between her concern for his condition and the overwhelming workload. It was true they could use an extra pair of hands right now, especially with how busy it was. After a moment of internal debate, she sighed and reluctantly accepted.

He followed Yuka upstairs, or more precisely, to her room. "Wait here for a bit," she said before stepping out to fetch the first aid box, leaving him alone in her room.

Now by himself, Hayato started to grow conscious of his surroundings, a strange nervousness creeping up on him. Her room wasn't the pink or overly fluffy kind one might imagine, but it was clean, neat, and organized. A faint, pleasant scent lingered in the air—a subtle yet unmistakable reminder that this was a girl's room.

Hayato realized he couldn't recall the last time he had been in a girl's room—if he ever had—let alone being alone like this. His mind wandered briefly, but he quickly pushed those thoughts aside, shaking his head inwardly. "Nothing's going to happen. Right?" He told himself firmly, refusing to let his imagination run wild.

Soon, Yuka returned, balancing a tray with a glass of orange juice in one hand and a small first aid kit in the other. Setting them down on her desk, she turned to Hayato with a serious expression. "Take off your shirt," she said firmly.

Hayato froze, taken aback by her bluntness. He couldn't fathom how she could say that with such a straight face. Still, he quickly realized there was no deeper meaning behind her words—she just wanted to treat his injuries properly.

Feeling a little flustered, his face reddened slightly as he reluctantly pulled off his shirt. Though still skinny and lacking significant muscle, the results of his daily exercise were beginning to show—his physique was leaner, and his posture was stronger than before.

She began with his left arm, carefully dabbing antiseptic onto the scrapes. Hayato flinched slightly at the sting when it touched his skin, but it was merely a subconscious reflex.

Compared to the agony of dying multiple times before, this was nothing.

She moved on to his right arm and then to his back, where the deepest scratches were. By this point, Hayato had grown used to the routine and closed his eyes, sipping his orange juice as he let himself relax.

But his peace didn't last long. His eyes snapped open when he felt a pair of something soft and warm lightly pressed against his back. His body tensed for a moment as realization dawned.

'Thank you, God,' he thought instinctively, though he quickly shoved the notion aside. 'No, no, stop it!' he scolded himself internally. Yuka was tending to his wounds with sincere care, and he didn't want to let his mind wander somewhere inappropriate.

Still, no matter how hard he tried, that soft, warm sensation lingered in the back of his mind, refusing to be forgotten.

"Now for your legs, take off yo—"

Hayato quickly interrupted her, a hint of panic in his voice. "Wait, wait, this much is enough."

Yuka paused, looking at him with confusion. "But—"

He cut her off again, his tone firm. "No buts. You shouldn't ask that of a guy."

Yuka blinked in confusion, she didn't push the issue further when hayato is against it.

Once they were done, the two of them headed downstairs to help, as promised. The small eatery was bustling with activity, with two other part-timers—a boy and a girl—already hard at work.

Their roles were straightforward: taking customer orders, passing them to the kitchen where Yuka's father managed everything with practiced efficiency, and delivering the prepared dishes to the designated tables. The air was filled with the lively chatter of customers and the savory aroma of freshly cooked food, creating a warm yet hectic atmosphere.

Both of them joined the bustling workflow, mimicking the tasks of the other part-timers. Yuka, having done this countless times before, moved with ease and confidence.

Hayato, on the other hand, struggled a bit when it came to interacting with the customers. His hesitance and awkwardness were evident, prompting Yuka to step in.

"I'll handle talking to the customers," she said with a reassuring tone. "You can just bring their orders to the tables, okay?"

Hayato nodded, grateful for the adjustment, and quickly got to work, carefully delivering dishes to the designated tables. While he wasn't as experienced as the others, he was determined to contribute and not cause any trouble.

Hours passed in a flurry of activity, and as night fell, the rush of customers gradually subsided. The two part-timers finished their shifts and took their leave, leaving only Yuka, her family, and Hayato in the now quiet resturant.

Hayato finally allowed himself to collapse into a chair, letting out a tired sigh. "That was exhausting," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. Despite the fatigue, there was a sense of satisfaction in his expression—he'd managed to keep up and lend a hand.

"We meet again, kind boy," came a somewhat familiar voice.

Hayato looked up, startled, and saw the elderly woman he had helped cross the road not too long ago. Her kind eyes sparkled with recognition, and a gentle smile graced her face as she stood near him.

"Grandma? What are you doing here?" Hayato asked, slightly shocked.

Before the elderly woman could answer, Yuka cut in, her tone curious. "She's my grandma. Have you two met before?"

Hayato was stunned. 'That's her grandma?' he thought, disbelief flickering across his face. The reason he didn't recognize her, even after watching the entire anime, was because she wasn't present there.

In a certain scene, Yuka had once mentioned to the protagonist that her grandmother died in a car accident around the time she started high school. 'Does that mean I unintentionally saved her too?'

The irony of the situation wasn't lost on him. He couldn't help but ponder the implications. If he had altered her grandmother's fate, why hadn't the world tried to corrected it, as it did in Yuka's case? Was it because her grandmother wasn't considered an "important" individual in this world's narrative—the so-called main characters?

These questions swirled in Hayato's mind, but for now, they were mysteries he couldn't hope to unravel.

"He's the boy I told you about—the one who helped me cross the road that day," Yuka's grandmother said with a warm smile, looking at Hayato with gratitude.

Yuka's eyes widened in surprise. She realized just how much she had misunderstood him before. Guilt washed over her as she looked at him. "I'm really sorry," she said sincerely, bowing slightly. "I was so harsh on you before. Not only did you save me, but you also helped my grandma."

No matter how much she thanked him, it felt like it wasn't enough to express her gratitude.

"Saved you? What do you mean?" her grandmother asked, concern etched on her face.

Yuka hesitated for a moment before recounting everything that had happened—the danger she'd been in and how Hayato had stepped in to save her.

Her grandmother's expression shifted from worry to overwhelming gratitude. "Thank you, Amane kun. Thank you so much for saving my granddaughter," she said, bowing deeply.

"Please, stop," Hayato said humbly, raising his hands in front of him in a calming gesture. "I don't think I did anything to deserve this much gratitude."

"Don't be so humble, Amane-kun," Yuka's father chimed in as he stepped forward. He appeared to be in his late forties, his voice carrying a sense of warmth and gratitude. Beside him stood Yuka's mother, both of them now free to stop working as the resturant neared closing time.

"What you did might not seem like much to you, but to us, Yuka is our dear daughter," he continued, his tone earnest.

Her mother nodded in agreement, a soft smile on her face. "After our eldest son got married and moved to Osaka, she's the only one taking care of this old couple here. She's such a good girl, but very serious about her studies."

The affection in their voices made Hayato feel slightly awkward yet deeply appreciated. He scratched the back of his head, unsure how to respond to such heartfelt praise. "I'm just glad I was there when it mattered," he said quietly, his humility shining through.

"That's right! As promised, I'll treat you to our famous yakisoba," Yuka's mother said, her tone warm and inviting. She looked at Hayato with hopeful eyes. "So, have dinner with us today. Your parents wouldn't mind if you're a little late, right?"

Hayato paused, an awkward smile tugging at his lips. "Well.....I live alone. My parents are... somewhere else, due to work."

An uncomfortable silence followed, as both Yuka's mother and father seemed to process his words. They hadn't expected that answer, and it left the air feeling a bit heavier.

Yuka's mother, however, quickly recovered, her expression softening with understanding. "I-I see," she said gently. "Well, you're always welcome here. It's nice to have you around."

Her father nodded in agreement, so did her grandma, though his eyes lingered thoughtfully on Hayato. "That's right, you should feel at home here," he added, his tone warm despite the brief awkwardness.

Hayato still couldn't quite believe that he had done something so significant to earn such warmth and gratitude from them. The kindness they had shown him really touched his heart, leaving him with a sense of unfamiliar comfort.

The dinner they served was nothing short of incredible, a collection of delicious dishes that Hayato knew he could never replicate himself. The warmth of the atmosphere, filled with genuine affection, was something he hadn't experienced in a long time.

It was around 8 p.m. when he finally got up to leave. Yuka insisted on walking him a bit of the way.

Now that they were alone again, walking side by side under the soft glow of the streetlights, Hayato felt a growing need to address something that had been weighing on him. He hesitated for a moment before finally speaking, his voice carrying a mix of sincerity and nervousness.

"Um, Takahashi," he began, glancing at her before looking down at the ground. "I just… wanted to say I'm sorry for bothering you so much over the past few days. It's just that… well, I'm really awkward when it comes to girls."

He paused, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, before continuing. "But believe me, I never meant to bother you on purpose. I had my reasons for everything I did, and I just hope… you can forgive me for any trouble I caused."

Yuka blinked, her expression thoughtful as she mulled over his words. "Well, it's true that I was really irritated by you before and even hoped you wouldn't approach me anymore," she said bluntly.

Hayato flinched as if her words had physically struck him. "Ugh…" he muttered, his shoulders slumping.

"But now," she continued, a faint smile forming on her lips, "I don't think badly of you anymore. From what I've seen, you're actually very kind."

Her words made Hayato freeze for a moment, his heart unexpectedly lightening at the compliment.

Yuka paused briefly, then added with a hint of determination, "That's why I'll help you with your studies, just like you wanted. Give me your Line ID, and we can plan our study sessions through it."

"Eh!?" Hayato exclaimed, his face a mix of pure confusion and shock, as though Yuka's words had completely blindsided him.

"Wasn't that your goal when you approached me?" Yuka asked, tilting her head slightly, her expression inquiring.

Hayato froze, realizing there was no way he could deny it without coming up with an elaborate explanation for why he'd approached her otherwise. Reluctantly, he forced a smile and said, "I look forward to your help. Thank you."

His words carried gratitude, but his appearance told a different story entirely. His shoulders slumped in defeat, and tears welled up in his eyes as if he were silently mourning his impending doom.

Studying wasn't something Hayato enjoyed to begin with, and now the thought of intense study sessions with someone as serious as Yuka made him feel like he was stepping into a battlefield he wasn't prepared for.

After walking him partway home, they exchanged farewells. Hayato returned to his apartment, dragging his tired body through the door. Reluctantly, he forced himself into a quick shower, the warm water doing little to wash away the fatigue that clung to him. "What a long day," he muttered to himself.

It truly had been—a whirlwind of events that left his body, mind, and soul utterly drained. But at least his stomach was full, and for that, he felt a small sense of contentment.

Once he entered his room, Hayato barely managed to make it to his bed before collapsing face-first onto it. He didn't even bother pulling the covers over himself; the exhaustion weighed him down, and he couldn't summon the strength to move an inch more.

It didn't take long before his breathing steadied, and sleep claimed him completely. For now, his worries and the chaos of the day faded away into the quiet stillness of the night.

As if. The moment Hayato drifted into deep sleep, a shadowy figure materialized in his dream. Its form was featureless, shrouded in pure black, making it impossible to discern whether it was male or female. The darkness seemed to ripple off its body like smoke, an unsettling yet strangely captivating presence.

The figure moved closer to Hayato, its steps soundless, as though it existed outside reality itself. Hayato's body refused to respond; he was frozen in place, completely at the mercy of this enigmatic intruder. The shadow leaned over him, wrapping its intangible arms around him in an almost tender embrace.

"You worked hard today," it whispered in a voice that was neither male nor female, neutral yet filled with an otherworldly resonance. "You're such a good boy, yet so cool. I can't help but fall for you more."

Its voice was indescribable, as though it transcended human comprehension, yet Hayato could feel the weight of its emotions. A deep sadness and disappointment lingered in its tone, tugging at his chest. "Alas, I can't meet you now," it murmured, regret dripping from every word.

But then, its tone shifted, filled with hope and an almost giddy excitement. "But don't worry. We will meet soon."

The shadow cupped Hayato's cheek with its ethereal hand, the touch neither warm nor cold but strangely comforting. It pressed its forehead against his, an intimate gesture that sent a strange sensation coursing through his being.

And then, he doesn't remember anything anymore.