The days moved quietly.
Aeron spoke little at school, even less at home. He followed the same rhythm: morning jog, school, cake shop on weekends, silence in between.
But Ayaka was watching.
She didn't mean to — it just happened.
He never laughed, yet people smiled around him.
He never tried, yet teachers paused longer when he answered.
And when other girls flirted, he didn't even notice.
To Ayaka, that made him dangerous.
Because someone like Aeron couldn't be reached with beauty, power, or popularity.
She started noticing the little things.
He always brought a spare umbrella but never used it.
He sat in the back, but never slouched.
He always looked straight ahead, even when whispers swirled behind his back.
One morning, she passed him in the hallway.
She didn't say anything. Neither did he.
But for the first time… her heart skipped.
---
Saturday – Kael Cake Shop, 11:42 a.m.
The bell above the door jingled as the scent of warm sponge and whipped cream filled the air.
Yume stepped in, brushing snow off her coat. Her long dark hair was tied into a low side ponytail, cheeks slightly flushed.
She glanced at the counter.
He was there.
Wearing a black apron, piping strawberry cream onto a layered sponge cake. Focused. Calm.
Yume smiled without realizing.
"Welcome," Aeron said, not looking up.
"You remembered," she said, walking closer.
"I remember regulars."
"I haven't been here in almost a year."
He looked up now. "You used to come with your aunt."
She blinked. "You really do remember."
A small pause.
He passed her the cake box. "Strawberry and white chocolate. Like always."
Her cheeks turned faintly pink. "You know… you haven't changed, Aeron."
"Yes, I have," he said quietly. "I stopped pretending to care."
She didn't know what to say.
So instead, she looked down at the cake and said, "Thanks. See you Monday."
---
That night – Home
Ayaka walked past the living room and paused at the kitchen doorway.
Aeron was there, alone, cleaning the dishes by hand even though they had an expensive dishwasher.
She just stood there for a moment, watching the way his hands moved—careful, precise, calm.
Then she said, "You're working on a Saturday? You don't need the money."
"I'm not doing it for money."
"Then why?"
He dried his hands and turned.
His eyes weren't cold, but distant. "Because when I'm working, I don't think."
Ayaka didn't have an answer to that. Instead, she turned and poured herself tea.
Before she left the room, she spoke softly:
"I don't think you're as empty as you act."
He said nothing.
But behind her, his fingers twitched — as if resisting the urge to reach for something long gone.
The steam clung to the mirror as Aeron stepped out of the shower, water still trailing down his shoulders and chest. His towel hung on the rack just a few steps away.
He didn't rush. He never did. Even now, he moved like he had all the time in the world.
The door clicked.
"Ah—!"
Ayaka froze in the doorway, wide-eyed. Her hand still on the doorknob. She hadn't knocked—this was her usual routine before bed, brushing her teeth and checking her hair.
But this wasn't routine.
Aeron turned calmly, fully naked, droplets sliding down the lines of his toned stomach. Not a single ounce of panic touched his face.
Ayaka, however, was frozen. Her face went red in less than a second.
His voice was cool and low. "You didn't knock."
"I—I thought no one—!"
She quickly spun around, heart racing as she slammed the door behind her.
Outside, she leaned against the hallway wall, trying to breathe.
> Why did he just stand there like it didn't matter?
Why is my heart still beating this fast?
Inside the bathroom, Aeron dried off without a word.
He wasn't embarrassed.
He didn't care.
Later that night – Ayaka's Room
She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.
Her chest felt… tight. Her thoughts disorganized.
Every moment she spent near him — his silence, his stillness — made her feel something unsettling.
Not admiration. Not pity.
Something else.
Something she didn't want to name.
And worse...
> "You're my stepsister," he had said so plainly.
That should've been enough.
But it wasn't.