Year 2014 — Shizuoka, Japan.
The morning sun peeked through the sliding windows of the Akihara household, casting golden streaks across the wooden floor.
Haruto Akihara, age eight, sat cross-legged at the low table, pencil frozen in midair as he squinted at a stubborn math problem.
Across from him, Ren Akihara—just a year younger—quietly scribbled on his own worksheet. His handwriting was neat and precise. Too neat, perhaps, for a seven-year-old.
"Haruto, are you done yet?" Ren asked softly.
"Not yet… this part's tricky," Haruto muttered, tapping the page.
Ren leaned closer, pointing calmly at the corner of the sheet. "Use the top formula. You forgot to carry the one."
Haruto stared for a second. Then smiled.
"Ah—right! You're smart, Ren."
Ren didn't respond much. He simply nodded, then returned to his own task.
From the kitchen, Ayaka Akihara's voice floated in with the aroma of miso soup.
"Lunch will be ready soon. No fighting, okay boys?"
"We're not fighting!" Haruto called back.
"Ren helped me," he added proudly.
Ayaka chuckled. "Good boys. You two really do feel like real brothers."
Ren's lips curled into a quiet smile.
That afternoon, they slipped on their sneakers and stepped outside. The narrow neighborhood street was lined with blooming azaleas, cicadas buzzing lazily in the spring air.
Haruto kicked a soccer ball ahead, leading the way. Ren followed, skipping slightly to match his brother's pace.
They passed the small candy shop with its faded red awning. The elderly lady inside waved through the dusty glass. Haruto waved back. Ren bowed politely, just like Haruto did.
"Let's go to the park!" Haruto grinned.
"Okay," Ren replied.
From any perspective—neighbors, shopkeepers, or teachers—they were just two ordinary boys, enjoying a calm Sunday.
And Ren Akihara...
looked just like any child his age.