Ren arrives at home at 9 which is generally early since he has nothing to consult with his cram teachers.

Going home early doesn’t make Ren feel good since he prefers to be anywhere but in his own house. Not because he doesn’t like the appearance of his house. In fact, the Hasegawa family is known as the most well-off one in this small town. As the owner of one the biggest Sake breweries company in north Japan, Hasegawa Shuzō, it’s only natural if their resident becomes the most striking one among other countryside locals; Wide, an aesthetical garden filled with expensive and rare succulents, bonsai, and, his mother’s favourite purple wisteria, the yellowish glow from the garden stone lanterns makes the garden alone won’t lose with the luxurious summer resort in a big city. A willow-lined canal runs toward the little pond where his father’s Koi collection lives. Not to mention the luxurious Sukiya-style architecture house with numerous sliding paper window doors, wooden terraces with spectacular garden views, authentic furniture, and a sophisticated annexe; This house is basically just a perfect dream house.

Ren likes everything about the house, except the memories associated with it.

“Welcome home, Ren-Sama.” A tall man in his mid-30s with a white oversized suit greets him as soon as he steps into the house.

“Yamada, why are you still in uniform when it’s already late?” Ren naturally hands his belongings to the helper assigned to him by his father.

“The family head wished to speak with you, Sir” He bows respectfully. The family head was the term people in this house used to call his father. Sometimes Ren almost forgot this is a private house, not a company.

“Alright, I’ll head to his room now.” Before he leaves, Ren glances at the crude-looking man flatly. “My friends will come over tomorrow, make sure you don’t wear the uniform. I won’t forgive you if they think I hired a Yakuza to protect me.”

“I’ll bear that in mind, Young master”

If the family head asked to have an audience with someone everyone would naturally go to a certain room without being told to - the room on the end of the annexe which is usually used for tea ceremony - The tea room, or chashitsu.

“Father, it’s me,” Ren announces from outside the sliding door.

“Come in,” The authoritative voice Ren grows accustomed to answering. 

Kojiro Hasegawa is an old man in his 50s, he has Ren in his mid-30s with his third wife after divorcing the two others before for not bearing a child for years. For him, Ren was a long-awaited Hasegawa’s clan successor - the one who will inherit his family’s sake brewery - the son he is proud of despite never saying it out loud.

Wearing a plain black Yukata, his father is seated on a tatami mattress. In front of him, a metal pot filled with boiling water is being prepared.

“Have a seat,” Kojiro says with his eyes closed.

Mirroring his father’s sitting posture, Ren claims the mattress right in front of his father by folding his legs neatly beneath the femurs and gently positioning the spine into an ‘S’ line. “Father, pelase let me”

After hearing his father’s hums, Ren starts to prepare the tea. Begins with spooning the green tea powder into the porcelain tea bowl, and pouring the hot water in a ratio of 3:1 for the water. The thick tea was kneaded using the whisk before respectfully handing them to his father to take a sip first.

He emptied his bowl in one sip, rolling the liquid inside his mouth to savour the bitter taste. The deep lines between his prominent brow bones and on his forehead deepen before slowly relaxing again. After he finished, he handed back the bowl to his son. Ren quickly wipes the remaining inside with silk clothes before repeating the procedure to make one for himself.

“Was it today?” Kojiro begins after a while, opening his deep-set eyes and staring at Ren unwavering.

“Pardon?” After the aroma of freshly-mowed grass settled on his mouth, while the bitterness lingers, Ren asks with a bright tone he doesn’t realise.

“Your cram school tryout score out, was it today?”

“Ah,” Ren answers in dismay, though he had predicted it on the way home so he intentionally puts the paper score inside his trouser pocket. “Yes, Father. Here it is.”

Unfold the paper and read the content in silence. Ren feels every second would cost 10 years of his age already. He prepared for what his father might say to him after this.

“Not bad,” Kaojiro simply comments with a placid face. Ren sighs in relief, he’s grateful that music was not included in his cram school tryout - only the substance subjects. 

“That’s, thanks to you Father,” Ren says out of courtesy. He's getting better at that.

“Put more effort in your A- biology. Our brewery needs a leader mastering biology in order to maintain and improve our quality. Don’t waste too much time swimming. I let you do that because it doesn’t affect your study so far, but my decision can change depending on your performance. Understand?”

“Understood Father,” Ren lowers his gaze. “I’ll work harder”

“You may leave.”

Another exhausting father and son bonding has ended. Ren would never understand why those short conversations need to be recited while performing a formal tea ceremony while it can be done by text. However, this night is considered peaceful despite taxing on Ren’s mental state. This is much better than having a night full of ceramic shattering sounds and his mother’s crying.

“Renren~”

Speaking of the devil…

“Mom? Why are you still awake?” Seeing his mother appeared from the kitchen surprised him. Wearing her flowery apron and hair messily tied in a bun, she clearly has been inside the kitchen doing anything she’s at it right now for quite a while.

“What do you mean? Of course, I have to be awake today. Come here, I cooked your favourite clam miso soup.” She happily pulls Ren's hands toward the dining table where a bowl of steaming soup is served on it. ”You haven’t had dinner yet, have you?”

“I ate a snack bar on my way back, mom” Nevertheless, Ren can not avert his gaze from the tempting soup before him. Just from the rich scent, Ren’s stomach growled.

Chuckling, her mother hands Ren the spoon. “How can a growing boy only have a snack bar for dinner? If you exercise hard you should also eat more. Was your coach forbid you to eat at night? Do you need me to give him a kick in his butt?”

“Pfft…mom you won’t win against him. He kicks water every day like crazy. Even a frog won't match him in swimming.” Ren covers his mouth, laughing. 

“Oh really? I don’t doubt you, Renren. But if he dares make my son starve, I will make sure the one he will kick next is the bucket.”

Ren smiles softly at her mother’s resort to make a joke, “Thanks mom, for staying late and cooking for me.”

“What are you saying? That's what a normal mother would do to his son. Now eat before it gets cold.” She smiles radiantly like the first sun ray on a summer morning. Ren is always wondering how a bright and easy-going woman like her, ends up with his stoic and stern father. No matter how he looks at it, her mother should be with someone around her age, with the same kind and warm personality. Someone who would let her run across the flower meadow at mount Fuji, sightsee wisteria blooming at Kameido shrine, and stargaze in Towada lake, anything but confined her inside the golden aviary. 

Seeing his mother’s face that completely spits out Ren’s image; Light brown hair, hazel eyes, and olive skin tone - Ren finds the definition of ‘home’ beyond the roof above his head. His house was never his home. But his mother is always been his safe place.

Wiping his face with his palm to take off his ‘mask’, Ren takes a sip of the soup. Savoury broth warmth his mouth runs down across his throat to his stomach, melting his heart.

“This is so delicious Mom. It Tastes soooo good that I think I would cry.” Ren smiles sincerely at his mother.

“Oh Renren~ my sweet boy~” His mother walks circling the table and hugs Ren’s head with her petite body. “Happy birthday, sweetheart~”

Drinking the miso soup to unclog his choked throat from suppressing tears flowing before he speaks. “Thanks, Mom.”

Claiming the seat next to him, his mother strokes Ren’s hair. “So did you have fun with your friends today? Did you blow out a candle with them?”

“Ah!” Ren fishes his phone from his pocket and shows his mother a picture. “I ate 3-layer tiramisu with them and we were joking around so…today was fun” Ren inwardly grimaces. The pictures Ren showed, except for the tiramisu, he took all taken mostly candidly without anyone noticing.

“How nice to celebrate birthdays with friends~ reminds me of my younger days,” Pressing her palm on her cheek, his mother reminiscing briefly. “So, tell me about your friends! I see they wore different uniforms, were they nice to you?”

Gulping the water from his glass, Ren puts back his ‘mask’ on and smiles at her. “Of course!” Then he pauses. “Actually, there’s one person I don’t particularly like…”

“Really? Why? Everyone looks nice…”

Playing with the napkin, Ren answers after thinking. “He talked about something I didn’t wanna hear”

“Was he saying that hurt you? Or lying to you perhaps?” She gently takes Ren’s palm and clasps it into her, stroking the back with her thumb gently.

“Not really.” he sighs tiredly. Kaito didn't lie or intentionally hurt him - Ren knows that much. In fact, he was aware paranoia ate him up when Kaito suddenly stood on his ground when the girls made fun of gay people. Kaito doesn't seem to have the same preference as him, he didn't look particularly offended by the offensive remark. So the thought Kaito probably noticed Ren's anguish and read through him like usual caused Ren subconsciously to become more defensive. Twisting every Kaito's word into a negative connotation. He's scared to be found out so he built a thicker wall to protect himself.

“You know, son?” She begins with a very gentle voice that never fails to calm Ren’s emotional turbulence. Clearing his thoughts and getting his senses back, Ren listens carefully. “True friends don't tell you about something you want to hear but what you need to hear - no matter how unpleasant it could be. A bitter truth is always better than a sweet lie. So, don’t hate him too much, hm?”

/A true friend, huh?/