The room was quiet. No — suffocating was a better word. The kind of silence that settles like thick fog, pressing down on your chest, making it hard to breathe.
Rin’s fingers fiddled with the hem of her hoodie, her lips slightly parted, but no sound ca out. Her gaze was downcast, and the flickering candlelight from the leftover birthday cake cast restless shadows across her face.
I swallowed hard. Damn it… I shouldn’t have put this stupid question in the pile. 'How do you feel about your father?' Of all things.
Honestly, I wanted to hear it. And at the sa ti, I didn’t. So part of — the coward part — begged her to skip it, to laugh it off, to just move on to the next round like it never happened.
But Rin finally broke the silence.
“Uhmm… I-It’s complicated, sorry…”
Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it struck through the room like a bolt of lightning.
I imdiately tried to defuse the tension, forcing an awkward, shaky laugh. “W-Well, right… hahaha… that’s a dumb question anyway. Since, you know… our old man’s been lost sowhere… hahaha…”
No one laughed. Not even a polite smile. Keiko and Rin both shot daggers at with their eyes. Googlᴇ search noⅴelfire
Great. I made it worse.
Keiko sighed, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “Let’s stop this now. It was late—”
But Rin cut her off, lifting her head, eyes locking directly with mine. There was sothing in them — sharp, accusing, but also unbearably sad.
“Wait.”
My stomach dropped. Rin's voice was firm and steady now. “Do you want to hear it?”
I blinked. Her gaze didn’t waver. It felt like it could cut through every flimsy excuse, every wall I’d built up inside.
“I… uhm… sure. If you’re okay with it.”
God, I was nervous.
Rin glanced toward Chiyori, who sat quietly, sensing the gravity of the mont. “Sorry if this makes you uncomfortable.”
Chiyori smiled gently and shook her head. “It’s okay.”
Rin took a breath — deep, shaky — then started.
“I… hate him.”
Her words hung in the air, heavy and absolute.
It felt like a punch to the gut. Even though I deserved it, even though a hundred tis over I knew I’d failed them… it still hurt more than I ever thought it would.
“I hated growing up with a dad who was so carefree and selfish. Who acted like everything was fine while Mom worked herself sick, while I… while I just wanted him being there for as a father. He was reckless and irresponsible, not supporting us properly…”
She clenched her fists, knuckles white.
“But… now I get it. So of it, at least. That people make mistakes. That maybe he was struggling too. That maybe he didn’t know how to be a good father. And yeah… I can sympathize a little. But still, I can’t forgive him. Sorry.”
She looked straight at when she said that last part.
I bit my lip, fighting the burn behind my eyes. I deserved every word. I was lucky enough Keiko forgave — sohow, so miracle — but Rin? She was right to hate . I was a terrible father. A ss of a man.
But hearing her say it… knowing she was carrying all that hurt, that loneliness, made my heart shatter.
Even so — I was weirdly grateful she said it. Because Rin never opened up like this. She rarely talked about her feelings, especially not about . And in that mont, her honesty was a gift I didn’t deserve.
I forced a small, bittersweet smile.
“Thank you… for telling us.”
Keiko, ever the peacemaker, stood and stretched, breaking the suffocating atmosphere. “Okay guys, it’s late now. Chiyori, you should head ho.”
I cleared my throat, still reeling but trying to follow her lead. “Y-Yeah… i-it’s late… thanks for coming, Chiyori. Uhmm… sorry you had to hear our family ss, haha.”
Chiyori just smiled, shaking her head. “It’s fine. I’m happy I could be here… and get closer to you Rin and her family. Thank you for inviting .”
We all said our goodbyes. Rin, as usual, insisted on walking Chiyori out to her place. I was glad — those two seed good for each other.
As they walked down the quiet street, the winter night air nipping at their skin, Chiyori reached out and took Rin’s hand. Rin flinched at the touch, not used to such casual affection.
“Rin… are you okay?”
“Hmm?” Rin’s head was sowhere else, lost in the aftermath of everything she’d just said.
“I asked… are you okay?”
Rin gave a faint, noncommittal hum.
Chiyori stopped walking and turned to face her. Without a word, she cupped Rin’s cheek, the warmth of her palm shocking Rin into looking up.
“I hope one day you can open up to too, dummy. So you don’t have to bottle it all up by yourself.”
Her voice was soft but steady.
Rin’s throat tightened, the words lodging there like a knot she couldn’t untangle. She felt the sting of tears but fought them back.
“I'm sorry…” Rin whispered, her voice cracking slightly.
Chiyori smiled, brushing a stray tear from Rin’s cheek. “No need to be sorry. Just… don’t carry it alone.”
For once, Rin let herself lean into the warmth of soone else’s care. She hated showing weakness. Hated crying in front of others. But Chiyori made it feel okay.
Chiyori chuckled, ruffling Rin’s hair. “Co on, let’s get going before we catch a cold.”
Rin nodded, a small, genuine smile tugging at the corner of her lips. They continued walking, hands intertwined again — fingers laced together this ti.
Maybe it wasn’t a perfect birthday. Maybe the truth stung, and wounds reopened. But sohow, in that cold, quiet mont, things felt a little lighter.
And Rin didn’t mind soone holding her hand tight.
Reviews
All reviews (0)