The suite remained deathly silent. Yuka’s previous song had made everyone’s hearts race with a shallow, flirty energy, but Haruka’s performance had drained the air from the room. Her sorrow was a physical weight.

  Yuka and Haruka both stared at Jun, waiting for his move.

  He stood up, took the microphone from Haruka’s limp hand, and queued up the Haneoka High School Alma Mater.

  "By the April window, waiting for the free-spirited wind / Have you found your spring? The blossoms are beginning to open..."

  A few voices joined in, then a few more. By the time the chorus hit, the entire room was singing together, the shared anthem washing away the heavy, toxic atmosphere of the previous two songs.

  Jun stopped singing halfway through. He leaned down and whispered to Haruka, "What were you thinking, singing a song like that? You almost killed the vibe for everyone."

  Haruka turned her head away, refusing to look at him. That wasn't the question he was supposed to ask.

  "Mochizuki," Jun said, his voice dropping. "I’m very sure we haven't known each other long. Why do you act like we have decades of shared trauma?"

  "Don't flatter yourself," she snapped, her voice trembling. "I wasn't singing for you."

  She stood up and marched out of the suite.

  In the restroom, Haruka splashed cold water on her face, scrubbing at the corners of her eyes. Ever since she’d had that "dream," that song had become her private obsession.

  "I’ve never met someone with a sharper tongue or a more stubborn heart," Yuka’s voice rang out behind her.

  Haruka turned and flicked the water from her hands onto Yuka’s dress. "None of your business."

  "Do you have a System too?" Yuka asked suddenly.

  Haruka froze at the sink. "What are you talking about? A computer system? A phone OS?"

  Yuka stared at her reflection in the mirror, but didn't answer.

  By the time they returned to the suite, Jun was gone. The girls of Class 1 and Class 2 flocked to their respective "Queens" like subjects welcoming home a victorious general.

  Jun was already miles away, pedaling his bike through the evening air. He’d left the girls’ drama in his wake. He had a schedule to keep: cleaning today, packing tonight, and the orphanage tomorrow.

  He hummed to himself. It was going to be a productive summer.

  That thought lasted exactly until the next morning when he stepped through the gates of the Mitaka Children’s Home and saw Yuka Tomatsu standing there.

  ______

  "What the hell is Tomatsu doing here?" Jun muttered.

  "The Band Club is doing a charity tour," Yuka replied, her eyes sparkling with a mix of surprise and delight. "This is our first stop. Talk about serendipity."

  Jun walked past her, unsure if this was a stroke of luck or a curse.

  Stolen story; please report.

  The orphanage grounds featured a modest lawn with a makeshift wooden stage. Maki Yamami and the rest of the club were already there, their instruments glinting in the sun.

  "Wait, is that Matsue?"

  "Did Yuka actually manage to lure him here?"

  The whispers from the band girls drifted over the grass like a breeze.

  "JUN-NII! JUN-NII IS BACK!"

  A group of kids at the front of the stage spotted him and erupted into cheers. Jun hopped onto the stage, throwing his arms wide. "The King of Mitaka has returned to his throne!"

  "YEAHHH!"

  He was instantly swarmed by a chaotic pile of screaming, laughing children.

  Maki Yamami ignored Jun’s sudden personality shift. She turned to Yuka. "Did you find the Director? We need to coordinate the post-performance schedule."

  "I was looking for her when I ran into Jun," Yuka admitted.

  "I’ll take you to her," Jun said, emerging from the pile of kids with one on each shoulder.

  The band girls followed Jun in a loose formation, looking like a brood of golden ducklings following a mother goose. Maki stayed at the back, pulling aside a girl named Naoko. "Watch your mouth today, Naoko. We represent Haneoka High. Don't make a scene or gossip about Matsue’s private life while we’re here."

  "I understand, Captain!"

  Jun led them toward the back of the property. "Director Meiko should be in the vegetable patch."

  "Director! I told you to stay out of the sun! It’s ninety degrees!" Jun shouted as they approached.

  An elderly woman with silver hair looked up from the rows of greens, a serene smile on her face. This was Meiko Hirotani. She had run the home for thirty-one years and was the only person who could make Jun feel like a kid again.

  "Oh, Jun-kun. You're home," she said, as if he’d never left.

  She turned to the girls. "I’m sorry, ladies. Listening to your music made me feel so young I just had to get my hands in the dirt for a bit."

  "It was our honor, Ma'am," Maki said, bowing.

  The girls stood in a line at the edge of the field, watching Jun work. He took the watering can from the Director and began systematically tending to the plants, occasionally bending down to pull a weed or prop up a wilting stalk. When he finally finished, he was cradling a haul of cucumbers, lettuce, and potatoes.

  "Lunch is going to be fresh today," he grinned.

  To the band girls, the "Perfect Matsue" they knew from school was gone. In his place was a rustic, sun-drenched boy in a straw hat, sweat trickling down his jawline as he laughed with his family.

  Director Meiko watched them, a twinkle in her eye. Jun was the brightest star her home had ever produced.

  Lunch was served on long trestle tables in the dining hall.

  "Jun picked these himself," Meiko-Obaasama said, gesturing to the greens. "You won't find anything this fresh in the city."

  Yuka and Maki ate with delicate, practiced grace. Yuka had made up her mind the moment she arrived: she was going to win over the Director.

  "Jun-nii!" a younger boy shouted, tugging at Jun’s sleeve. He wanted Jun to sit with the "cool kids," so Jun grabbed his bowl and headed for the other end of the hall.

  "He looks so... different here," Naoko whispered, watching Jun pose for a photo with a group of toddlers while holding a pair of chopsticks in his mouth.

  "I like this version better," her friend replied.

  After lunch, the band packed up to leave. Yuka, however, claimed she had lost a keychain and needed to look for it. No one called her out on the lie.

  The afternoon was a haze of heat and cicadas. Jun sat under the eaves of the main building, enjoying the shade.

  "WHY THE HELL NOT?"

  A low, thunderous shout from inside the hall shattered the peace.

  "Why aren't you taking the high school entrance exams? Do you want to end up on the street?" Jun’s voice was full of a rare, jagged fury.

  The girls hurried to the door. Jun was standing over a teenage boy, his face dark with rage.

  "Do you have any idea what it means to be an adult in this world without a degree?"

  The boy, Yuji, had dark skin and a stubborn, downcast look. In Japan, kids who didn't get into high school were often forced to leave their care homes early, facing a brutal, unforgiving society before they were even legal adults.

  _______

  "What happened?" Yuka asked a girl who looked to be in her early teens. This was Saaya (the "Aya" from Jun's phone calls).

  "Yuji decided he’s too good for high school," Saaya said, looking unfazed. She turned to Yuka, eyeing her up and down. "And who are you supposed to be?"

  "I’m Yuka Tomatsu. I’m Jun’s... classmate."

  Saaya leaned in and sniffed the air around Yuka.

  "What are you doing?" Yuka asked, recoiling.

  "Just a habit," Saaya shrugged. She whispered to herself, "She doesn't smell like a 'Good Woman' vibe."

  The other kids pushed Saaya forward. "Saaya-chan, go stop him! Jun-nii looks like he’s going to kill Yuji!"

  Saaya stepped between the two. "Jun-nii, take a breath! Don't hit him!" She grabbed Jun’s arms, pulling them to her chest.

  Yuka’s jaw dropped. How is she allowed to touch him like that?

  "I’ve never laid a hand on one of my own," Jun growled, though he let Saaya pull him away. He ruffled Yuji’s hair—a bit too roughly. "Start talking, kid. Why the change of heart?"

  Yuji’s father was a chronic gambler who had vanished years ago. One day, the man had simply walked out to the "Pachinko" parlor and never came back.

  "I want to be independent like Jun-nii," Yuji muttered, staring at his feet. "I want to save the home some money."

  "Save us money?" Jun barked, delivering a sharp flick to the boy’s forehead. "Is that your job? Huh?"

  "A public high school costs almost nothing. You’d save more by getting an education and a real job. Use your head, kid. Be a 'Hustle King' like me."

  "I’m not going!" Yuji shouted, tears of frustration in his eyes.

  Jun walked out of the room, his expression unreadable.

  "What’s the real story, Saaya?" Jun asked once the door was closed.

  Yuka watched the two of them talk with an easy, familial intimacy that made her stomach churn with jealousy.

  "Yuji ran into his deadbeat dad last week," Saaya said, leaning against the doorframe.

  "And?"

  "The old man told him he has a new girlfriend and a new life. He told Yuji he can't take him back. Ever."

  Jun went silent.

  In a care home, the love a child feels for a parent is often the only thing they have left. Even when they’re abandoned, they spend every night dreaming of being "rescued."

  "I don't care about him anyway!" Yuji shouted, having opened the door just a crack. "I’m just... annoyed. That’s all. Just a little bit annoyed."

  Jun walked back to the boy. "You used to have a photo of him on your desk, didn't you?"

  "I lost it. It’s gone."

  "Is it?"

  "Yeah! It’s gone! Who cares!"

  "And you don't want to see him again?" Saaya asked softly.

  The silence that followed was heavier than the summer heat.