Shy Girl

Chapter 6🏵️

The air inside the Nakamura house was thick with the scent of pine cleaner and unspoken threats. Since returning from Haruki’s, Miyu had been confined to the kitchen, scrubbing floors that were already spotless. Mrs. Tamaki stood over her like a gargoyle, her shadow stretching long and dark across the tiles. Every time Miyu’s movements slowed due to her lingering fatigue, the sharp click of Mrs. Tamaki’s heels reminded her that the "lesson" was far from over.

However, the silence was shattered by a firm, rhythmic knocking at the front door. Not the frantic pounding of a panicked boy, but the steady, authoritative knock of someone who wasn't leaving.

Kenji opened the door, and his eyes widened. Haruki stood there, looking sharp and determined in his brown school blazer, with Hina beside him. Hina was draped in three different scarves and clutching her tape measure like a weapon. Between them stood a man in a dark suit, his face lined with travel weariness and a deep, simmering guilt.

"Father?" Miyu whispered, dropping her scrub brush as she stood up in the kitchen doorway.

Mr. Nakamura stepped into the foyer. He had been a man who preferred the sky to the earth, traveling constantly for business to avoid the suffocating atmosphere of his own home. But Haruki’s phone call—a desperate, raw plea for his daughter’s life—had forced him to turn his car around at the airport and face the ghost he had become.

"What is the meaning of this?" Mrs. Tamaki marched into the hallway, her face twisted in a fake smile. "Miyu is sick, dear. She needs rest, and these... children are intruding."

"She isn't resting; she's scrubbing floors," Mr. Nakamura said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous octave. He looked at the wet tiles, then at his daughter’s pale, trembling hands. "I have spent years looking the other way, Tamaki. I told myself you were just 'strict.' But Haruki-kun told me things no father should ever hear about his child’s safety. I am not getting on that flight. I am staying right here."

Mrs. Tamaki’s face flushed a deep, ugly purple. "You’re listening to a boy? A stranger?"

"He isn't a stranger. He’s the only person who cared enough to tell me the truth," Mr. Nakamura replied. He turned to Haruki and Hina. "Haruki-kun suggested a... sleepover. To ensure Miyu is monitored through the night. Given the circumstances, I think it is an excellent idea."

"A sleepover? In this house? Absolutely not!" Mrs. Tamaki shrieked.

"It wasn't a request," Mr. Nakamura said, standing tall. "Hina-san will sleep in Miyu’s room. Haruki-kun will stay in Kenji’s room. Kenji, I trust you to facilitate this."

Kenji stepped forward, a look of immense relief washing over his face. He was slightly taller than Haruki, but he looked at the younger boy with newfound respect. "I’ve already cleared out the guest futon in my room, Dad. It’s a smart move."

Mrs. Tamaki backed away, her eyes darting toward Miyu like a cornered animal. "Fine," she hissed, her voice a low, venomous promise that only Miyu could hear. "Have your little party. But your father will have to leave eventually, Miyu. And when he does, you’ll wish you had never let these people through the door."

Miyu shivered, but Hina was already there, throwing a colorful scarf around Miyu’s neck and pulling her toward the stairs. "Don't listen to her, Miyu-chan! We're here now. We're going to have the best night ever. I brought my sketchbooks and the fabric samples for your dress!"

Haruki stayed behind for a moment, catching Miyu’s gaze. He didn't say anything, but the way he patted his own chest—right over his heart—told her everything. He had kept his promise. He had brought the one person who could truly stand up to the shadows.

The sleepover was unlike anything Miyu had ever experienced. The Nakamura house, usually a place of silence and stifled breaths, was suddenly filled with the sound of Hina’s constant chatter and the low, comforting murmur of Haruki and Kenji talking in the room next door.

In Miyu’s cramped bedroom, Hina had completely taken over. She had spread out her midnight-blue silk across the floor, her tape measure flying as she made final adjustments.

"I’m telling you, Miyu-chan, the 'Echoes of the Heart' theme is going to be your moment," Hina said, sitting cross-legged on her sleeping bag. "You’re going to walk out there, and even that Rina girl will have to admit you’re the star. I’ve added a hidden pocket in the skirt—for luck!"

Miyu smiled, a real, soft smile that reached her eyes. "Thank you, Hina. For everything. I didn't think I could ever have a friend like you."

"Best friends forever, remember?" Hina winked. "Now, let’s go get some snacks. I saw Haruki and Kenji sneak down to the kitchen."

The four of them gathered in the kitchen, illuminated by the soft glow of the refrigerator light. Mr. Nakamura was in his study, and Mrs. Tamaki had locked herself in the master bedroom, leaving the "g**g" in a rare moment of freedom.

Haruki was helping Kenji make late-night sandwiches. He looked relaxed, his brown blazer replaced by a simple hoodie. When he saw Miyu, he handed her a glass of warm milk. "Drink this. Hina said it helps with the rest of the fever."

"You guys are acting like a team of doctors," Miyu joked quietly, taking a sip.

"We’re the 'Miyu Protection Squad,'" Kenji said, leaning against the counter. He looked at Haruki. "I’m glad you called our dad, Haruki. I should have done it a long time ago. I was just... I was afraid of making things worse for her."

"We all were," Haruki admitted. "But Miyu isn't a burden to be managed. She’s a person to be loved. I think we all forgot that for a second."

The romantic tension between Haruki and Miyu was palpable in the small kitchen. Every time their eyes met, a spark of electricity seemed to snap in the air. Hina nudged Kenji, whispering something about "clueless lovers," which made Miyu’s face turn the color of a ripe strawberry.

Eventually, they retreated to their respective rooms. Hina fell asleep almost instantly, her snores rhythmic and peaceful. Miyu, however, lay awake, staring at the ceiling. The warmth of the milk and the safety of her friends felt like a dream she was afraid to wake up from.

But as the clock struck 2:00 AM, the dream turned into a nightmare.

Miyu felt a sudden, sharp constriction in her chest. She tried to sit up, but her lungs felt like they were filled with water. She tried to call out to Hina, but only a faint, wheezing gasp escaped her lips. Her fever, which everyone thought had broken, had surged back with a vengeance, triggering a severe respiratory reaction she hadn't felt since she was a small child.

She rolled off her bed, her hand catching a glass of water on her nightstand. It shattered against the floor with a loud, jagged *crash*.

Across the hall, Haruki’s eyes snapped open. Being an athlete made him a light sleeper, and his senses were already tuned to any sound coming from Miyu’s room. He was out of his futon and through the door before Kenji could even stir.

He burst into Miyu’s room to find Hina sitting up, rubbing her eyes in confusion. But Haruki saw Miyu on the floor, clutching her throat, her face turning a terrifying shade of pale blue.

"Miyu!" Haruki screamed, throwing himself onto the floor beside her. He didn't hesitate. He pulled her into a sitting position, leaning her back against his chest to help her air passages open. "Hina, get Kenji! Call an ambulance! Now!"

Hina scrambled out of the room, her eccentric mask falling away to reveal pure terror.

"Miyu, look at me," Haruki whispered, his voice shaking as he pat her back gently, trying to soothe the spasms in her chest. "Breathe with me. In... and out. Come on, don't leave me. The song isn't finished yet."

Miyu gripped his forearms, her fingernails digging into his skin. The world was fading, the blue silk on the floor looking like a distant ocean. The last thing she felt was the warmth of Haruki’s tears hitting her cheek and the steady, desperate beat of his heart against her back.

The "lesson" Mrs. Tamaki had promised hadn't even started yet, but the darkness was already closing in.