The next morning dawned like any other for Haruki Fukuda—tedious and uneventful. However, this time he faced a new predicament, one he dubbed "Mr. sprained ankle."

Yesterday, upon finally reaching his room after enduring a ten-minute survival test, Haruki decided to inspect his injury more closely. Little did he know that, as he lifted his jeans, he would be met with a bluish-purple swelling engulfing his entire ankle. It seemed as though he was growing an extra foot. The severity of the situation caught him off guard. Just how badly had he twisted it?

After an excruciating thirty minutes of tending to and bandaging his injury, the pain around his ankle subsided somewhat. At least, it did for the night.

The following morning, as his headache mostly dissipated and the swelling around his ankle diminished, the pain returned with a vengeance, as if seeking retribution for the previous night. Haruki couldn't help but feel that the universe had been unjust in its judgment. He grumbled to himself as he sluggishly crawled out of bed and painstakingly made his way out of his room.

Just as he reached the door, the silence surrounding him was shattered by the house's landline. If he weren't in such a condition, he would have rushed to answer it. However, there was no way he planned to exacerbate his injury for the sake of the brazen caller disturbing the early morning peace.

After much internal deliberation, he ultimately decided to ignore the persistent ringing. Yet, that choice triggered a sudden recollection of something important.

...Mom said she would call yesterday, but we never spoke.

Only then did he realize that his mobile had been on silent since yesterday, untouched after he returned home with his injured leg. It still lay on the couch downstairs, precisely where he left it around noon the previous day.

With a sigh, Haruki continued his painful mission toward the staircase, relying on the walls to prevent himself from toppling over. That stupid leg was needlessly making his life difficult. At this rate, his ankle wouldn't heal fast enough.

Under normal circumstances, he should have stayed in bed and rested longer, avoiding any kind of activity until he could walk without completely draining his energy. However, he was alone now. If he didn't take action, no one else would.

It was at that moment that he truly understood the extent of his isolation.

And injuring himself only intensified that feeling.

When he finally descended the last step and reached the living room, Haru collapsed onto the expansive double couch where his mobile lay, catching his breath. There was no need to answer the landline; his cellphone provided a sense of certainty that the incessant caller was likely his mother.

As soon as he pressed the power button, a barrage of notifications greeted him, informing him of the 30+ missed calls and 20+ texts from Maki Fukuda.

Sheesh.

Dialing his mother's number, Haruki casually greeted her as soon as she picked up. "Morning, Mom."

"SWEETY, YOU'VE FINALLY ANSWERED YOUR PHONE! WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU? YOU HAD US WORRIED SICK!"

Haru had to hold the phone away from his ear when his mother's booming voice erupted. He rubbed his forehead, feeling his headache resurfacing. "Your voice, Mom, your voice."

"DO YOU WANT TO GIVE ME A HEART ATTACK? WELL, DO YOU?!"

"Sorry, my phone was on silent," he explained wearily. "And I didn't have it with me all this time."

"Didn't we agree to talk yesterday evening?" Her voice had finally calmed, though the distress was still evident. "I called the house phone countless times!"

So it really was her; Haruki thought. Unfortunately, he couldn't have reached the phone at that time.

"I was in the shower just now," he lied, unwilling to disclose his ankle troubles. Maki would only overreact if she knew.

"At this hour? You never bathe this late. Did you oversleep?" she inquired.

Oversleep? It was only then that he glanced at the wall clock. It was already past eleven in the morning.

"It's summer vacation," he mumbled to himself. "I'm not going anywhere."

His mother sensed his bitter mood and fell silent. She had already deduced the exhaustion in his voice but couldn't bring herself to ask, knowing she had a general idea. After all, she was well aware that her son had no real friends. This summer vacation would be a living hell for him without his sister.

"Rue-rue," her tone softened considerably this time. She knew her son disliked that nickname and had been warned countless times not to call him that, now that he was a little older. It was as if she anticipated his anger once again.

But he didn't react. He simply listened quietly.

She continued, "Don't keep yourself cooped up in the house all the time. Go out there, make some friends. It doesn't have to be a lot, just one or two would be enough. Your father and I are concerned about you, you know?"

There was a hint of a smile in Haruki's voice as he responded. "You're acting weird all of a sudden."

"Well, excuse me for caring," Maki snapped, their temper easily ignited. Haru's laughter bubbled up in response, feeding the fire within.

"But I never said I had no friends. They just don't live in the neighborhood," he reassured, though his mother's doubt lingered in the air, refusing to dissipate.

"The only time you brought a friend home was back in Kyoto when you were just a kid. Since then, it's been your sister and..." Maki trailed off, realizing she'd spilled too much, her words a torrent of memories and unspoken emotions.

Regret washed over her as she recalled the pain Haru had endured when their family had moved from Kyoto. She knew bringing up those memories would only reopen old wounds, reminding Haruki of the life he had once cherished deeply.

"Sorry."

Haruki chuckled, "Why are you apologizing? It's been a while already."

Yeah, five years had already slipped by since then.

"Don't worry, I'll make friends eventually. No need to rush," he reassured, his tone reasonable and comforting. "I'm still growing, aren't I?"

"Alright," the woman sounded relieved, grateful that Haruki wasn't angry at all. She then added, "We'll only be gone for a week. Behave yourself, okay? Remember to lock the doors and windows before going out."

"I will," Haruki assured. "Good luck with work. Say hi to Dad for me."

After a few more exchanges, Maki finally ended the call, and Haruki slowly lowered his phone onto the adjacent couch.

He remained seated, his gaze fixed on the ceiling, lost in a haze of thoughts.

Make friends.

Haruki slouched against the couch, lacking the energy to move.

Making true friendships wasn't so easy if he'd just sever ties in the end. What had he been trying to pull yesterday? Who was he fooling...

Over the past few years, he had avoided forming deep connections, fearing that they would be shattered by another move. What if his parents were relocated again? They had already moved once from Kyoto to Chiba Prefecture, and their demand in the job market seemed relentless.

Where would they end up next?

Sometimes, Haruki couldn't help but feel that his parents worked too hard. When would they allow themselves a break, a chance to rest, instead of constantly worrying about him?

Sighing, he let out a breath filled with resignation.

DING DONG!

Haruki jolted in surprise as the doorbell pierced the air. Annoyance instantly crept into his being.

Mom didn't mention any deliveries today, so what the hell?

DING DONG, DING DONG!

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" he bellowed, reluctantly dragging himself towards the front door. At least, having already conquered the arduous task of descending the stairs, reaching the front door in the adjacent room would require less effort.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!

What? Did they break our doorbell already?

This time, Haruki refrained from shouting. Silently, he made his way to the front door, his mind crafting a string of scathing insults to hurl at the uncouth individual on the other side.

Little did he expect that as soon as he unlocked and flung the door open with anger fueling his movements, he would be met with a head of fiery ginger hair and piercing gray eyes, assessing him with indignant scrutiny.

The shorter figure, clad in smart yet casual attire, stood with folded arms, impatience etched across their face. Their tousled mid-length hair partially concealed a tiny black mole just below their right eye.

All traces of hostility evaporated into thin air as Haruki stood in the doorway, rendered speechless by the unexpected presence of Ginger. Never in a million years would he have anticipated this visit. Not even in the slightest.

Ginger, irritated by the person's silence, clicked his tongue in annoyance.

"What's with that look?"

Haruki snapped back to reality and blinked. "Why are you... here?"

Ginger narrowed his eyes at him. "What? You want me to leave?"

"I didn't mean that," Haruki almost reached out to stop him. "I just didn't expect you."

"What do you mean?"

"Uhh..." Just that... I really wasn't expecting you.

"Didn't you say I could drop by anytime?" Ginger raised an eyebrow, reminding him. "You said it yourself."

Yeah, but I didn't think you'd actually consider it; Haru thought.

Hearing no response, Ginger turned to leave resolutely. "Fine then..."

"No, wait," Haruki immediately grabbed his shoulder, worsening the pain in his leg with the sudden movement. He let out a stifled hiss.

Concerned, Ginger was already supporting him by the arm. "Hey, take it easy."

"D-Don't go," came Haru's low yet desperate voice, causing Ginger to pause in his tracks. He repeated, "Don't leave."

Ginger, silent for a moment, felt a rush of pink flood his cheeks as he looked away, even more annoyed. Nevertheless, he draped Haru's arm over his shoulders to support him, though he didn't dare meet the other's gaze.

"Yeah, whatever."

~~~~~~