In the cozy living room of the Fukuda household, Ginger settled into one of the plush single couches on Haru's right, quietly observing as his companion caught his breath. The weight of Haruki's injured ankle was evident, and Ginger couldn't help but feel the guilt that had been accumulating since yesterday intensify.

"So, how's your head now?" Ginger inquired, recalling Haru's condition from the previous day.

"It's all good," Haruki replied, rubbing the back of his head. "By the time I went to bed last night, the pain had almost vanished, thanks to a few painkillers."

"You're not going to get it checked at the clinic, just to make sure there's no brain damage or anything?" Ginger pressed, concerned.

"That's a bit extreme. I didn't smack my head against a boulder," Haruki reassured him.

Ginger didn't want to admit it, but he still felt unsettled. However, since Haru wasn't willing to cooperate, he decided to let go of his attempts to convince him.

Instead, he snidely commented to mask his concern. "You've looked better."

Haru chuckled and glanced down at his foot, lifting the injured ankle slightly. "Blame it on him."

Him. Ginger cleared his throat. "You mean your foot?"

"Yeah. It's been a bit challenging to keep up with my usual routine," Haruki admitted. "As you can see, I haven't even showered yet."

Ginger had already guessed that when he saw Haru in his pajamas. He fidgeted with his hands on his lap, asking in a hushed voice, "Is it really that bad?"

"The swelling has gone down quite a bit," Haru said, bending down to unfasten the long white bandage encircling his ankle. "It's best if you see it for yourself."

"Wait, won't that affect your healing progress?" Ginger's concern slipped out unintentionally, and he quickly shut his mouth.

However, Haruki was entirely oblivious to Ginger's peculiar reaction and continued speaking. "Nah, I was planning to shower anyway."

Ginger's breath caught in his throat the moment he caught sight of the purplish-reddish swelling around Haru's ankle.

Even Haru seemed surprised, but for a completely different reason. He exclaimed with excitement, "Hey, the bump is almost gone. I thought it would get bigger since I've been moving around so much since I woke up."

Ginger remained silent.

"You should have seen it yesterday," Haru laughed. "It looked like I was growing another foot."

But Ginger couldn't bring himself to laugh along. All he could think was: This happened because he broke my fall yesterday.

"By the way," Haruki changed the subject, "I'm sorry for my reaction earlier. It's just that when you kept referring to us as strangers, it was hard to believe you wanted to visit. I thought you didn't like me," he paused when Ginger lowered his head, his long ginger fringe shielding his eyes. Haru felt a pang of guilt, "I'm not saying that's how you truly felt, I mean, I don't even know—"

"So what if I don't like you?" Ginger's tone turned rigid.

Haruki tilted his head slightly. "It doesn't seem that way."

"You don't know what goes on in my head."

"You wouldn't be here if you disliked me," Haru reasoned. "You were even concerned about me just now, haha."

Ginger clenched his teeth.

"Honestly, Ginger, you need to stop being so cynical all the time. How do you expect to make friends with that bratty attitude?"

"Don't need 'em."

Haruki was momentarily speechless, but then sighed. "Come on, I'm just joking."

"Well, I'm not," Ginger replied desolately. "And I already told you to stop assuming you know me."

There he goes again; Haru thought helplessly. But with what happened yesterday, he was unaffected by the accusation. Playing with the bandage in his hands, he calmly said, "I know you don't have friends."

"Look who's talking."

I never denied that. But Haru knew that if he voiced that out loud, it would only lead to another argument. So, in the end, he asked, "Have you ever tried making friends before?"

"I don't need friends."

Haruki, however, pressed on with a solemn inquiry, his voice carrying a touch of gentle concern. "Yes, yes, you said that. But have you ever tried making one?"

Silence hung in the air, the weight of Haruki's question sinking in.

""I'm guessing not?" Haruki continued.

"So?"

Haruki's voice tinged with empathy. "You don't know the feeling of having someone your age you can rely on."

Expression twisted into a sneer, Ginger remarked, "You seem so proud of your 'friend,' yet where is he now?"

Haruki responded with a sad smile. "You're right. He isn't here."

Ginger's sneer gradually faded.

Haruki noticed the shift in Ginger's demeanor and chuckled softly. "Scared you? Don't worry, it's nothing tragic. We just live in different cities now. He's doing fine."

Ginger remained silent, his defenses momentarily lowered.

Leaning against the couch, Haruki posed a question. "So, what's your story?"

Ginger stared at Haruki, disbelief etched on his face. Despite his annoyance with the guy, he still wanted to hear the whole story.

"You closed off yours just like that?" Ginger retorted, his gaze fixed on Haruki. There was a tinge of annoyance, but an underlying desire for transparency.

"I didn't think you'd be interested," Haruki defended himself.

Ginger grumbled, a hint of responsibility creeping into his voice. "A half-baked tale like that won't change anyone's mind. Show some awareness."

But what did I do? Haru searched his mind, contemplating his actions. Finally, he spoke, "I guess my friend has moved on, made new connections, and now we're so far apart. It makes me...sad?"

"Forget it," Ginger replied, leaning back against the couch and averting his gaze. "It's sappy stories like that annoy me to death."

Haruki chose not to provoke further tension, opting for silence instead.

After a period of brooding and contemplation, Ginger mumbled, "I came here because I felt bad, okay?"

Haruki responded with a knowing nod.

Noticing the smug expression on Haruki's face, Ginger hastily clarified, "It was guilt, not concern!"

"But you see, guilt is often associated with concern..."

"Like hell! I couldn't care less if it took a lifetime for that broken leg to heal," Ginger scoffed, his words laced with defiance. "In fact, I hope it gets worse."

Haru rolled his eyes, a mischievous glint in his gaze. As he attempted to rise to his feet, pain coursed through his body, causing him to stumble. Ginger reacted promptly, rushing to Haruki's side to provide support. "Don't rush, you'll only hurt yourself more."

"A lifetime, huh?" a snicker escaped Haruki's lips and he was instantly shoved away, losing his balance and falling back onto the couch.

"Go to hell!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Haruki laughed.

**

As they sat down to enjoy brunch, Haruki caught a glimpse of Ginger, his gaze fixed intently on his half-eaten plate of fried rice and sweet and sour pork. A question formed in Haruki's mind: Does he not like it?

Could Haru's injury have affected his cooking skills?

"Is something wrong?" he finally inquired, breaking Ginger out of his reverie.

Shaking his head, the boy stared back at his plate, his face slightly flushed. "It's really good."

Haru felt his heart swell. Why was Ginger suddenly being so sweet? It was enough to make Haru's chest ache.

After Haruki had finished showering earlier, they'd both entered the kitchen. To his surprise, Ginger's fiery temperament had undergone a complete transformation. He watched intently as Haruki skillfully peeled and diced, showing a desire to help but hesitating at the same time. When Haruki asked about it, Ginger responded with a single statement:

"I was told to never enter the kitchen again."

That simple statement made Haruki realize that Ginger had no knowledge of cooking, or even handling a knife, for that matter.

In the end, Ginger stood by, observing as Haru took charge of the preparations, periodically checking on his injury.

"Want me to teach you how to cook?" Haruki's question caught Ginger off guard, diverting his attention from his meal once again.

The kid hesitated, eyeing Haruki's injured leg. "But you're..."

"I won't be on my feet the whole time. Besides, it doesn't have to be today," Haruki chuckled, dismissing the concern. "You can come over whenever you want, if your parents are okay with it."

Between bites, Ginger replied, "I live alone."

"Oh, your parents are out of town too?" Haruki misunderstood.

Shaking his head, Ginger corrected him, "I live alone."

Confusion washed over Haruki. What did he mean? Clearing his throat, he asked, "Do you have any relatives here?"

Nothing.

"A guardian, maybe?"

Again, Ginger shook his head. "No."

Really? But he's so young. Is he an orphan...? Haruki wondered.

As if reading his thoughts, Ginger offered, "My mom lives somewhere else. It's nothing tragic."

"And your dad?"

Ginger hesitated, then replied, "Don't have one."

Oh; Haruki picked at his own food, feeling a pang of sympathy. The kid was always alone at the park, and when he went home, there was no one waiting for him. "Yesterday, you mentioned bullies. Who do you turn to when they bother you?"

Ginger's movements paused for a second before he resumed eating, choosing not to respond.

Haruki sighed, changing the subject. "So, where is your mom now?"

"Asahikawa," Ginger answered this time.

"Is that where you went to elementary school?"

With a hesitant nod, the kid confirmed it.

Haruki wasn't sure whether to believe him or not, but he continued, "Which school?"

Ginger's voice dropped, "It's none of your business."

Letting out a dry laugh, Haruki didn't press further. "Right, sorry about that. I actually attended two different elementary schools. One in Kyoto and the other here."

Finally, Ginger looked up, his interest slightly piqued. "Why?"

"I used to live with my grandparents in Kyoto, and then moved here five years ago," Haruki shared, eager to tell his stories. "At the time, I was still in elementary school, so I had to take a gap year to adjust to the new educational environment. I should be in my second year of middle school now. What a waste."

Ginger pondered for a while before asking, "Which middle school?"

"Ichihara Junior High."

"An elite private school?" Ginger inquired.

Haruki chuckled at the question. "Just a very ordinary public school. Not even five-star."

Ginger nodded to himself.

"Are you interested in elite schools?" Haruki asked.

"Maybe."

Ah, a rich kid; Haruki thought. He shared his knowledge earnestly, "If you're looking for prestigious schools, you'll have to check Tokyo. By the way, you haven't been living here for long, have you? How long have you been in this town?"

"A couple of weeks."

"No wonder I'd never seen you before."

"Do you have to know everyone in this town?" Ginger asked.

Haruki shifted his gaze, giving a light cough. "Well, almost everyone. We were still talking about schools?"

"I don't want to go to school in Tokyo," Ginger stated simply.

Well, there certainly aren't any elite schools in this small town. Nevertheless, Haruki racked his brain, trying to think of schools in Ichihara that would suit a privileged child's tastes. "I'll look it up online."

"There's no need."

"But you just said—"

"I'll do it myself."

Haruki's brow twitched. What exactly did this kid want?

As Ginger finished his meal and left the table, taking his plate to the kitchen, Haruki watched in silence, internally applauding how quickly the little guest's moods shifted. One moment he seemed concerned, the next angry, then quiet, and occasionally spoiled. How many split personalities did Ginger have?

"He better know how to wash his own dishes, that little brat," Haruki muttered to himself before a thought struck him.

If Ginger truly lived alone and had no one to take care of him, then who prepared his meals? Earlier implications suggested he lacked cooking skills, so did he rely solely on takeout? After all, he had only recently moved to Chiba Prefecture. Did his place even have a stove?

But Haruki knew better than to ask too many personal questions. Ginger was secretive, and even now, he didn't know the kid's real name.

"That's fine, I'll just call him 'Ginger' until he gets sick of it," he muttered with disdain. A few bites later, Haruki finished his food and juice.

Just as he was about to stand and take his dishes to the kitchen, Ginger reappeared, sleeves rolled up and hands wet. Without a word, he pushed Haruki back into his chair and took away his dishes, leaving the room before Haruki could utter a word.

Haruki stared after him, dazed, ignoring the wet handprints staining his shoulders. When he finally snapped out of it, he thought; So he does have a conscience after all?

A sense of satisfaction washed over him.

He had started to believe that there was no hope for this ginger-haired porcupine, with his fiery personality. But it seemed that the kid still had a flicker of sweetness within him.

"I only did it because you cooked," Ginger's flat tone reached Haruki from the kitchen, interrupting his thoughts.

What the hell? Haruki's bitterness resurfaced. "Can't you just let me praise you?"

No response.

Honestly, this kid; Haruki thought with a snort. "Fine, as a reward for being a good junior, let's go somewhere fun."

"I already told you, I'm fourteen."

As if Haruki believed that nonsense. He replied sarcastically, "Yeah, yeah, sure. As you say, sempai."

There was no response to that. After a while, Ginger's voice emerged, a simple "No."

"No, what?" Haru asked.

"I don't want to go," Ginger replied.

"Tsk, you ungrateful brat! Can't you even accept my gratitude?!" Haru couldn't help but feel incredulous and a tad exasperated.

"Well, if you enjoy spending money, go ahead and treat me to whatever you want," Ginger retorted, standing by the door and drying his hands with a dish towel. "But not now. You're in no condition to go anywhere."

Only then did Haruki remember and chuckled. "I had completely forgotten. I can't feel a thing when I'm seated. Oh, wait a minute," he realized something and grinned mischievously, "Are you actually worried about me?"

Ginger's face turned serious. "What?"

Haru chuckled, "You do have a heart."

"Shut up!" Ginger pounced on him, almost shoving the dirty towel into Haru's mouth. "You will eat this and finish it!"

Throughout it all, Haruki couldn't stop laughing, feeling an inexplicable connection with this enigmatic boy.

Ginger noticed the small dimple that had formed on Haruki's left cheek once again and found it oddly captivating from up close.

"Hey, here's an idea," Haru's voice suddenly brought Ginger back to the present. "Since we can't go anywhere right now, how about playing some video games? Interested?"

Ginger snorted and crossed his arms. "Who says I can't go anywhere? I'm not the one with a broken leg."

Haruki pretended to be disappointed. "But it's no fun playing alone. And I don't see you rushing off somewhere, do I?"

Ginger's expression made his intentions clear.

"I know you're just going to sit in that tree, all by yourself," Haru teased.

"Much more enjoyable than being around you!"

"You know what? I'm not even going to argue," Haru stifled a laugh before continuing, "It'll only be for a little while. You'll have plenty of time for your date with the tree after a round or two, right?"

Ginger clicked his tongue but eventually gave in. "Fine, one round. Just one. Got it?"

Haruki nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, yes, yes!"

Yet in the end, that single round turned into an entire day of intense competition.

~~~~~