A Table Waiting for Family

Mizuki stood by the entrance, turning the small identification card between her fingers.

Her golden eyes swept over the neat lettering printed on it:

"Haruka Nakamura."

She murmured the name under her breath, tasting it, feeling an odd flicker of familiarity.

It was like brushing against a memory she couldn't quite grasp — something faint, just out of reach.

Her gaze drifted to the attached photo.

The person staring back at her had an almost ethereal beauty: pale skin, long black hair tied neatly behind delicate features, and clear azure eyes that seemed to hold a quiet kindness.

Mizuki blinked once, her lips curving unconsciously into a small smile.

"She's beautiful..."

The elegance in the girl's appearance drew her in — the softness of her expression, the air of quiet strength.

There was something pure about her, something untouchable.

A playful smirk tugged at Mizuki's lips.

' I'll make her my friend.'

Before she could check the rest of the details, a voice from deeper inside the house interrupted her thoughts.

"Onee-chan! The food's getting cold! Hurry up, I can't wait anymore!"

It was Risa, her younger sister, shouting with impatience.

Mizuki sighed, casting a final glance at the card before casually setting it down on a nearby table.

She hadn't noticed the small 'Gender' section at the bottom.

Lucky for Haruka... for now, at least.

---

I stopped in front of our house, staring at the modest structure framed by the fading evening light.

It wasn't grand. No marble pillars, no glittering chandeliers like the Yoshida mansion I had just left behind.

But it was different.

It was home.

A soft breath escaped me as I pushed open the door.

The familiar warmth rushed to meet me, carrying the scent of miso soup and something freshly fried.

I had barely stepped inside when a blur of motion crashed into me.

"Haru!! Haru!! Welcome home!!"

Two small figures tackled my waist with surprising force.

I looked down to find two pairs of wide, sparkling azure eyes — mirrors of my own.

Rin and Mei, my six-year-old twin sisters, clung to me like I had been gone for days instead of just hours.

Their long black hair bounced around them, tangled from their endless energy.

Before I could even steady myself, another voice called out.

"Hey! Give Onii-chan some space! He just got back from work."

I glanced up to see Hana standing nearby, arms folded with a mock frown.

Her black hair was tied neatly back, her sharp black eyes observing us with quiet amusement.

At fifteen, she was already far more responsible than most adults I knew.

Rin and Mei pouted but tightened their grip anyway.

Hana sighed, her expression softening as she stepped closer.

"...Welcome home, Onii-chan."

For the first time today, the mask I wore cracked just a little.

I smiled faintly, reaching out to ruffle the twins' messy hair.

"I'm back."

The simple exchange chased away the fatigue that clung to my bones.

The faint scent of detergent from work still clung to my sleeves, but here, mixed with the smell of home-cooked food, it almost faded away.

Our mother wasn't home yet.

"As expected.'

Instead, Hana had already set the table: bowls of fluffy rice, steaming miso soup, a plate of golden croquettes, and a pot of simmered vegetables — all laid out neatly.

Rin and Mei's eyes sparkled with unhidden joy.

"Let's eat!" Rin cheered, scrambling into her seat.

"Wait, we have to say it properly!" Mei scolded, puffing her cheeks before clapping her hands together.

"Itadakimasu!"

Hana sighed but followed suit, pressing her hands together with a small smile.

I slid into my seat, picking up my chopsticks just as Mei leaned closer, sniffing suspiciously.

"Onii-chan... you smell different today!"

My hand paused mid-air.

"Yeah!" Rin exclaimed dramatically, her nose wrinkling.

"You smell like... flowers?"

Expressionless, I responded.

"It's just the detergent from work."

But Hana, sharp-eyed as always, wasn't fooled.

She twirled her chopsticks slowly, giving me a sidelong glance.

"We use the same detergent here," she said lightly.

"And it doesn't smell like flowers."

Our eyes locked for a moment.

I looked away.

"It was probably from the house I worked at," I said simply.

Hana hummed, unconvinced but choosing not to press further — for now.

Meanwhile, Rin and Mei continued their "investigation," faces filled with mischief.

"Onii-chan, did you meet a pretty lady today?" Rin teased, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Maybe a princess! Or an angel!" Mei chimed in, giggling.

Sure, she's the princess of the whole school...

I sighed inwardly.

"Eat your food."

...There's no way I'm telling these little devils about that.

"Aww! Onii-chan's hiding something!" Rin cried, poking at my arm.

Mei gasped dramatically.

"Wait... could it be... a girlfriend?!"

My eye twitched.

"No."

A soft chuckle escaped Hana — but there was a dangerous glint in her eye.

She leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm with a teasing smirk.

"A girlfriend, huh? Now that would be a problem."

I frowned.

"Why would that be a problem?"

"Because," she said sweetly, "I haven't approved anyone for you yet."

I stared at her blankly.

"...I don't remember needing your approval."

"Of course you do," Hana replied, her voice dripping with mock authority.

"As your beloved younger sister, it's my sacred duty to screen any suspicious girls trying to steal you away."

"Hana-nee is jealous~!" Rin giggled.

Hana flicked Rin's forehead lightly.

"I'm not jealous. I'm just being a responsible sister."

Mei gasped, clutching her hands dramatically.

"Does that mean you'll reject any girl Onii-chan likes?!"

Hana smiled slyly at me.

"Hmm... depends. If she's a good girl who treats you well, maybe I'll allow it."

I exhaled long and slow.

"You sound like an overprotective parent."

"And you sound like you're definitely hiding something," Hana shot back, narrowing her eyes.

I decided that was my cue to change the subject.

"...By the way, did Mom say when she'll be back?"

The teasing in the air lingered, but the shift in topic was enough.

For now.

Hana checked her phone, scrolling with a lazy finger.

"She messaged earlier," she said. "She'll be late again. Told us not to wait up... and not to cook for her."

Haruka nodded, unsurprised.

"I see."

It was nothing new.

Their mother coming home late had long been part of their routine.

Only Rin and Mei still clung to the hope she'd sit down and eat with them like before. Sometimes they'd pout, sometimes they'd cry. Haruka and Hana had simply learned to live with it.

He picked up his chopsticks again.

"Let's just eat."

It wasn't much of a distraction.

Across the table, Hana was still smirking — a silent reminder that the conversation they'd started earlier wasn't over.

Haruka ignored her.

But even as he forced himself to focus on dinner, Mizuki's curious gaze from earlier wouldn't leave him.

It lingered in the back of his mind, sharper than he wanted to admit.

---

The pale light of his laptop screen flickered across Haruka's face as he leaned back in his chair, mindlessly scrolling through an article about market trends he didn't actually care about.

The clock on the wall ticked past 1:00 AM.

The house was silent.

Rin and Mei were fast asleep.

Even Hana — usually the last one awake — had gone to bed early since she had school tomorrow.

Haruka stayed up alone.

Not because he was restless.

Because he was waiting.

Outside, the world was still.

Once in a while, a car would pass down the empty street, headlights flashing briefly across the curtains.

But otherwise, it was just him and the low hum of the refrigerator.

Then — a car door slammed shut.

Haruka sat up a little straighter, listening.

Moments later, the front door unlocked, and soft, tired footsteps entered the house.

He closed his laptop and stood up.

Their mother stepped inside, pulling the door closed behind her.

She looked... drained.

Her long black hair was tied messily at the back, a few strands falling over her sharp, tired eyes.

The dark circles under them seemed deeper than yesterday.

Without even noticing him, she sighed and stretched, rolling her stiff shoulders with a crack.

Only then did her gaze land on Haruka.

"...Why aren't you asleep?"

Her voice was low, rough from a long day.

Haruka walked toward the kitchen.

"I was waiting," he said simply.

She raised an eyebrow.

"I messaged you I'd be late. You didn't have to wait."

He didn't argue.

Instead, he motioned toward the table.

Two plates sat there — rice, grilled fish, and miso soup — still steaming faintly under the warm kitchen lights.

Her eyes narrowed.

"I told you not to make food for me," she said.

Haruka picked up a pair of chopsticks and set them beside her plate.

"You didn't say you were eating out."

She exhaled, rubbing her temples with a tired hand.

"Tch... You didn't eat either, did you?"

Haruka looked at her for a moment.

If he said yes, she'd tell him to eat alone.

If he said no, she'd probably skip dinner altogether.

So he lied.

"Yeah. I didn't eat."

He nudged the chopsticks closer to her.

There was a small pause.

Finally, she pulled out a chair with a soft scrape against the floor.

"...Fine," she muttered. "Let's eat."

Haruka sat across from her.

They ate quietly, the soft clinks of chopsticks against bowls filling the room.

Outside, the night was still young, silent and still.

Similar they were also silent but —Inside, a little warmth settled between them — small, almost invisible, but there.

And for a little while longer, it was enough.