Chapter 569: When Haruna Played with Fire

I held up a hand, stopping Yuko before she could retreat. "Wait... I’ll get my plate." My voice was steady, but my heart was pounding. I turned and walked back toward the dining table, my mind racing.

Yuko had actually opened the door. She had actually let me in. That was progress. Fragile, but progress.

Haruna was still at the table, leaning back in her chair with one hand absently rubbing her stomach. She looked up as I approached, her face lighting up. "Jack..." she said, her voice warm, "did Sister open the door?"

I nodded, grabbing my plate. The food had gone cold, but it didn’t matter. "Yeah. She asked me to bring my plate... and eat together with her."

Haruna’s eyes sparkled with relief. "Jack, you’re amazing," she said, shaking her head slightly. "Seriously. No one else can get through to her when she’s like this. Once she digs her heels in, it’s like talking to a brick wall." She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "What’s your secret?"

I smirked, grabbing a pair of chopsticks. "No secret. I just... listen." I hesitated, then added, "And I don’t give up on her."

Haruna’s expression softened. "That’s why she trusts you." She paused, then bit her lip, suddenly looking nervous. "Jack... after dinner... You should stay here."

She fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve, avoiding my eyes. "Aunt Julie is still furious at you, and it’s getting late. There’s no reason for you to go back there tonight."

I opened my mouth to argue, but she cut me off with a sharp look. "Don’t be stubborn. Just stay." Then, almost shyly, she took a step closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You can take the guest room... or, if you need anything, I’ll keep my door unlocked."

My breath hitched. Haruna had always been bold, but this was different—softer, more intimate. There was something vulnerable in her eyes, something that made my chest tighten. "Haruna..." I started, but before I could say anything else, a sharp sound cut through the air—footsteps.

We both froze.

Yuko stood in the doorway, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable. But her eyes—sharp, accusing—were locked onto Haruna.

Haruna’s face went pale, then flushed crimson in an instant. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air. "S-Sister! I—I wasn’t—!" She stumbled over her words, her usual confidence shattering under Yuko’s gaze. "I was just joking! I didn’t mean—!"

Yuko’s voice was ice-cold. "Haruna. You’re still young. You can’t just invite boys into your room like that."

Haruna’s hands flew to her face, her cheeks burning. "N-No! It’s not like that! I just meant—!" She glanced at me, mortified, before bolting toward her room, slamming the door behind her.

The silence that followed was deafening, thick enough to suffocate. Yuko stood frozen in the doorway, her jaw clenched so tight I could see the muscles twitching. Her fingers dug into her arms, her short nails leaving faint red marks on her skin.

I didn’t need to hear her thoughts to know what was going through her mind—her eyes said it all. Fear. Anger. A desperate, almost frantic need to protect Haruna from everything, even from shadows that hadn’t formed yet.

Then, like a whisper slipping through the cracks, her thought brushed against my mind—raw and unfiltered.

[Why is she so bold? Inviting Jack to her room like it’s nothing... Does she not understand what could happen? Does she not see how dangerous it is?]

I kept my expression neutral, but my chest tightened. Yuko’s fear wasn’t just about Haruna’s innocence—it was about her own past, the scars she carried that none of us could see.

She exhaled sharply, her shoulders dropping just a little as she turned and walked toward the dining table. The chair scraped against the floor as she pulled it out and sat down, her movements stiff. "Jack," she said, her voice low and controlled, "I’m keeping an eye on you."

I raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. Instead, I sat across from her, setting my plate down. "Noted."

Her gaze locked onto mine, unwavering. "Don’t think about Haruna. She’s still young. She can’t..." Her voice cracked slightly, her fingers tightening around her chopsticks. "She can’t hurt her body. Or end up..." She swallowed hard, unable to finish the sentence. "Or become pregnant."

The words hung between us, heavy and sharp. I knew what she wasn’t saying—like I did.

I didn’t push. Instead, I picked up my chopsticks and started eating, giving her the silence she needed to collect herself. The food was cold, but neither of us cared.

We ate in silence for a few minutes, the only sounds the clinking of chopsticks against plates and the distant hum of the refrigerator. Finally, Yuko set her chopsticks down and leaned back, her expression unreadable. "You can stay here tonight," she said, her voice firm. "And don’t think about going to Haruna’s room."

I looked up, meeting her gaze. "I wasn’t planning to—"

"I’m staying here with you," she cut in, her tone leaving no room for argument. "So you don’t get a chance."

I sighed, setting my chopsticks down and leaning back in my chair. "Sister Yuko..." I said, feigning innocence, "you don’t trust me?"

Her eyes narrowed, a flicker of something dark and bitter passing over her face. "I don’t trust any men," she said, her voice low and venomous. "They’re all... liars. Bastards." She looked away, her jaw tightening. "Every single one of them."

The raw pain in her voice made my chest ache. I knew she wasn’t just talking about me. She was talking about the ones who had hurt her, the ones who had made her build walls so high that even Haruna and I sometimes struggled to climb them.

I reached across the table, hesitating before gently tapping her hand. "Not all of us," I said quietly.

She flinched, pulling her hand away like she’d been burned. "Prove it," she snapped, but there was a fragility in her voice, a crack in the armor she wore so well.

I nodded slowly, meeting her gaze. "I will."

She held my stare for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, finally, she looked away, her voice barely above a whisper. "...Good."