(Aoshi's pov)

If someone asked me what keeps me moving forward, I would answer without hesitation: Souta.

Because of him, my world didn’t collapse the day my parents left me behind. Because of him, I learned to smile again even when everything felt empty. And because of him… my heart beats.

He is my uncle—or at least, that’s what everyone calls him. But in truth, he isn’t bound to me by blood. Souta was adopted into our family long before I was born, a wandering young man who somehow found a home under my grandfather’s roof. Fate, or perhaps accident, made him part of my life. And when tragedy struck and my parents were gone, he stepped forward without hesitation.

From that day, he carried responsibilities that weren’t his, wore burdens that should have been mine, and shielded me from the weight of the world.

I’ve always looked up to him. Admired him. But lately… admiration feels too small a word.

Souta is handsome—no, that’s not enough either. He’s breathtaking. Not in a way that’s loud or exaggerated, but in that quiet, devastating way that makes heads turn without him even trying. His frame is tall and solid, shoulders broad enough to carry everything I can’t. His jawline is sharp, his lips firm, and his eyes… those calm, steady eyes that always seem to see through me, softening only when they linger on me.

When I was younger, I thought he looked like a hero from one of those picture books my mother used to read me. Now that I’m older, I realize that heroes are flawed, but he… he’s still someone I can’t help but believe in.

To the world, Souta is the man in control of my family’s company. At meetings, he sits at the head of the table, composed and calculating, his every word precise enough to sway a room of men twice his age. He makes decisions that would terrify me, and he never flinches. They call him cold, ruthless even.

But they don’t know the Souta who makes sure I eat breakfast before class. The Souta who scolds me for forgetting my umbrella when it rains. The Souta who drapes a blanket over me when I fall asleep on the couch with books scattered across the floor.

That’s the side of him only I see. The side that treats me like a child, even when I insist I’m grown. And maybe… maybe I don’t hate it.

---

This morning was no different.

“You’re awake? That’s unusual,” Souta remarked when I stumbled into the dining room. His voice was calm as always, but the corner of his lips twitched as if he were suppressing a smile.

“I woke up early,” I mumbled, sliding into my chair.

“Mm.” He set a plate of toast and eggs in front of me. “Eat properly. You’ll be late if you waste time.”

I stared at his hands as he placed the fork neatly by the plate. Strong, elegant hands—hands that had signed countless contracts and yet were gentle enough to pat my head when I was a child. My chest tightened. I forced myself to look away.

We ate in silence, the kind of silence that wasn’t awkward but comfortable. I could feel his presence across the table like sunlight seeping through a window.

Later, in the car, he glanced at me briefly before pulling into the road. His dark hair caught the light, making him look even sharper than usual.

“Don’t skip lunch today,” he said, his eyes fixed on the road. “And focus on your lectures instead of staring out the window. I’ll know if you’re slacking.”

I rolled my eyes. “You always say that.”

“That’s because you never listen.” His reply was so smooth, it made me huff. But then, as if to soften the sting, his voice gentled. “I’ll pick you up after class. Call me if you need anything.”

My heart thudded, and I turned my face toward the window so he wouldn’t see the flush creeping up my neck. He never realized how much those words meant. To him, it was just responsibility. To me, it was everything.

When the car finally stopped at the college gates, I stepped out reluctantly. Souta lowered the window, leaning slightly toward me. His tie was perfectly straight, his expression as composed as ever.

“Study well,” he said simply.

I nodded, swallowing hard. “See you later.”

And then, like every day, I watched the car disappear into traffic, leaving me with the echo of his voice in my ears and the steady pounding of my heart.

---

College life was supposed to distract me. To give me space where I wasn’t the heir to a company or the boy living under Souta’s care. Here, I could just be… me.

“Late again,” a familiar voice called out, laced with amusement.

I turned to see Ayan jogging toward me, his bright smile stretching ear to ear. His dark brown hair was always a mess, as if he’d just rolled out of bed, and his glasses slid down his nose in the most careless way.

“Ayan,” I muttered, adjusting my bag.

“You know, you should thank me,” he said, falling into step beside me. “I cover for you in attendance half the time. One of these days, the professors are going to catch on.”

I snorted. “You don’t cover for me. You just say I went to the restroom.”

“And it works, doesn’t it?” His grin widened. “You’re lucky to have me.”

I shook my head, but I couldn’t help smiling. Ayan was my best friend—the complete opposite of Souta. Where Souta was composed and reserved, Ayan was loud, talkative, and a little reckless. But maybe that’s why I needed him. He kept me grounded, reminded me that I was still a student, still young, still allowed to laugh.

“By the way,” Ayan nudged me, “was it him again?”

I blinked. “What do you mean?”

“You know…” He leaned closer, his grin mischievous. “Your oh-so-handsome uncle dropping you off like a chauffeur.”

My ears heated. “He’s not—shut up, Ayan.”

Ayan laughed, clapping me on the back. “I swear, every time he comes to pick you up, half the girls—and guys—on campus stare like he’s a celebrity. And you…” His eyes narrowed teasingly. “You get all red whenever he talks to you. It’s hilarious.”

I forced a laugh, masking the truth that pulsed beneath my skin. He didn’t know. He could never know.

Because of him… because of Souta, my heart beats. And that was a secret I intended to carry alone.

---

[Souta’s POV]

The office was already buzzing when I walked in, the rhythmic sound of keyboards filling the air. The company my brother had built — the one I had promised to protect — had become as much my life as breathing. It wasn’t easy to carry everything on my shoulders, but I had learned long ago that complaining wasn’t an option.

“Good morning, Director Souta,” the staff greeted as I passed.

I nodded, offering the usual polite acknowledgment, but inside I was already scanning through the numbers in my head. Meetings, reports, negotiations… the weight of decisions that could shape hundreds of lives.

“Director,” one of the senior managers called, smiling as he caught up beside me. “We’re all curious. You’re already twenty-eight — when are you planning to settle down? Everyone’s starting to bet on who will finally catch your eye.”

I paused, suppressing a sigh. This wasn’t the first time I had heard it, and it wouldn’t be the last. “I already have enough responsibilities,” I said evenly, adjusting the files in my arm. “Marriage isn’t on my list.”

The manager chuckled. “Ah, you mean Aoshi-kun, right? You’re practically raising him.”

My chest tightened at the mention of his name. “He’s not a child anymore,” I replied, though my voice softened despite myself. “But yes, I’ll make sure he has everything he needs.”

The conversation ended there, and I continued on. No matter how much the world pushed, my focus couldn’t afford to stray. Aoshi deserved stability. That was the only promise I intended to keep.

Still, as I sat at my desk, going through contracts, an image flickered in my mind — Aoshi clutching his bag this morning, nodding at my reminders like he always did. His expression had been serious, almost nervous. Perhaps college was weighing on him. I made a mental note to ask about his day later.

I didn’t realize how often his face came to me during moments like these.

---

[Aoshi’s POV]

The campus was too loud today. Laughter, chatter, the clatter of shoes against stone — it all blended into a noise I couldn’t focus on.

“Aoshi!”

Ayan’s voice cut through it like sunlight through a storm. He jogged up, grinning, hair messy as ever. “You look like a ghost. What’s with that face? Don’t tell me college life has already broken you.”

I forced a laugh. “Nothing like that.”

“Liar.” Ayan squinted at me, his tone playful but sharp. “You’ve been distracted since morning. I asked if you wanted to join the cultural club, and you just nodded like I told you to jump off the roof.”

I blinked. Had I?

“You’re hiding something,” Ayan concluded dramatically, crossing his arms. “Is it a crush? Tell me, is it someone from class?”

My heart slammed against my ribs. If only he knew how far from the truth he was.

“It’s not like that,” I muttered, staring hard at the pavement.

“Hm.” Ayan leaned closer, smirking. “Then maybe someone at home?”

The air caught in my throat. My grip on my bag tightened. “Don’t joke about things like that.”

Ayan tilted his head, curious at my overreaction, but shrugged it off with a grin. “Fine, fine. Keep your secrets. I’ll find out sooner or later.”

I breathed a little easier, though guilt twisted inside me. Ayan was too perceptive for his own good.

---

Later in the afternoon, as students filed out of the building, Ayan walked with me toward the gate. “Hey, I’ll grab something at the café before heading home. Want to come?”

Before I could answer, a familiar car pulled up. Sleek, polished — so distinctly Souta.

The window lowered, and there he was, calm and composed even after what must have been an exhausting day. “Aoshi,” he called simply, “let’s go.”

Ayan froze beside me. His eyes widened just slightly, and then that grin spread across his face again, more mischievous than ever.

“That’s your ride?” he whispered, low enough only I could hear. “No wonder you’re always distracted…”

I shot him a glare, heat flooding my cheeks. “Shut up.”

He only laughed, clapping my shoulder. “See you tomorrow, lover boy.”

My heart nearly stopped. Did he suspect? No, he couldn’t. It was just Ayan being Ayan, always teasing. Still, his words echoed all the way to the car.

Sliding into the passenger seat, I tried to calm my racing pulse. Souta glanced at me, a quiet crease of concern on his forehead.

“You look flustered. Did something happen at school?”

I shook my head quickly. “No, nothing at all.”

But as the car pulled away from campus, Ayan’s knowing grin haunted me.

Maybe hiding my feelings wouldn’t be as easy as I thought.

---

The faint rustle of fabric and the clinking of a belt buckle pulled my attention from the book I was pretending to read. Souta stood near the mirror in the hallway, fixing the collar of his shirt. A pale blue one. The one he rarely wore unless there was something… or someone… special.

I leaned back on the couch, my voice casual even though my chest tightened.

“You’re going somewhere?”

He looked up, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. My colleagues thought I’ve been too serious lately, so… they set me up on a date.”

The word date echoed in my head like a dull thud. I blinked once, twice, forcing a smile. “A date? Since when do you listen to them?”

He chuckled, brushing his fingers through his hair. “Since they wouldn’t stop teasing me about being single forever. I just… thought I’d give it a try. Who knows, right?”

Who knows.

The words stung more than they should have.

Souta’s friends had no idea what they were doing — throwing him into something he didn’t even want. Or maybe he did. Maybe he wanted someone now. Someone his age. Someone not me.

I lowered my eyes to the page, pretending to read again, but every sound he made — the soft creak of his shoes, the faint scent of his cologne — made it harder to breathe. That cologne… I’d grown used to it lingering in the hallways, in the car, on the couch cushions. Now it felt like it was fading away before he even left.

“You said,” I muttered, voice quieter than I intended, “you’d never date.”

He paused at the door, turning back. His expression softened with a hint of guilt. “That’s what I thought too… but I got cornered this time.”

A bitter laugh almost escaped my throat. Cornered by them… or by loneliness?

Souta didn’t notice my silence. He just smiled lightly, the way he always did when he thought I was being childish. “Don’t wait up for me, okay? I’ll be back late.”

“Right,” I replied, though my voice cracked in the middle. I pretended to yawn to cover it.

He left with a wave, and the door closed with a click that sounded too final.

The quiet afterward was unbearable.

I stared at the door for a long time, then grabbed my phone. I opened our group chat with his colleagues — the same ones who adored teasing him — and typed a single message to one of them:

“Who told you it was a good idea to make him date someone?”

No reply for five minutes. Then:

“Haha, Aoshi? Chill, we just wanted him to have fun. He’s too serious for his age!”

Too serious.

They didn’t see what I saw — the way Souta’s eyes softened when he looked at me, or the way he made sure I never skipped breakfast. He wasn’t “too serious.” He was too kind. Too good for someone who didn’t see how much I adored him.

I tossed the phone aside, frustration bubbling inside me. My hands trembled a little, and I clenched them into fists.

“I hope that date goes terribly,” I whispered to the empty room.

---

The clock ticked away the hours, each one heavier than the last. I tried to study, but my notes blurred together. Tried to eat, but every bite tasted wrong. I even tried to play a game, but my heart wasn’t in it.

The house felt too big without him. The silence felt… wrong.

It was nearly nine when I heard the familiar sound of keys jingling. My heart jumped before my brain could stop it. I tried to act casual again, stretching on the couch as Souta stepped in.

He looked tired. Not sad, not happy — just exhausted. The kind of exhaustion that comes from forcing a smile too long.

“Hey,” I said softly, trying not to sound too eager. “You’re back early.”

“Early?” He chuckled dryly. “It’s past nine, kid.”

“I thought you’d be later.”

I thought you’d be happier.

He loosened his tie and dropped onto the couch beside me with a sigh. “You were right, by the way.”

“About what?”

“I shouldn’t have gone. The woman kept talking about vacations and shopping lists. We barely had anything in common.”

I bit my lip to stop the smile that almost formed. “So… no second date?”

He laughed. “Definitely not. My friends owe me dinner for this disaster.”

Relief flooded me so suddenly it almost hurt. My chest loosened, and I found myself leaning closer without thinking. “Good,” I murmured. “Serves them right for forcing you.”

He glanced at me, his expression unreadable. “Why do you sound so happy that it failed?”

I froze. The room felt smaller suddenly, the air heavy.

“Because…” I looked away quickly, fidgeting with my sleeve. “Because you looked tired before you left. I didn’t want you to waste your night.”

A long pause. Then, softly —

“You’re such a strange kid sometimes.”

His hand brushed my hair lightly, a gesture so casual yet so intimate it made my throat tighten. I wanted to grab his hand, hold it there. But I didn’t. I couldn’t.

He stood, stretching. “I’m gonna shower. Don’t stay up too late.”

The bathroom door closed, and I sat there, staring at the spot where he’d just been.

Strange kid. That’s what I was to him. Just the boy he raised, the one who tagged along since high school, the one who shouldn’t have feelings like this.

But as the sound of running water filled the house, I couldn’t stop the ache from growing.

I didn’t care if it was wrong anymore. I just wanted to be the reason he smiled — not the reason he sighed after a date gone wrong.

I whispered into the quiet,

“One day, Souta… you’ll see me differently.”

And that night, for the first time, I wished harder than ever for that day to come.

---