"E-Ehhh??!!" Chieri suddenly stood up, her chair scraping loudly against the floor before falling backward with a dull thud. She didn't even look at it. "Taira Naoya?!"
She stared at the paused screen like she was trying to make sense of it, blinking fast.
Haru, caught in the moment, tried to ease the tension. "Maybe it's… a coincidence? That he shares the same surname as Chieri…"
Her voice came out uncertain—soft, as if even she didn't believe it fully.
Chieri didn't respond. Instead, she turned on her heel, walked straight to the old wardrobe, and opened it. She knelt down, pulling out the same box she opened yesterday. Her movements were quick but not frantic—more like someone trying not to think too hard while doing something that felt strangely familiar.
She dug through the stack of ROMEO CDs, DVDs, and booklets until she found the pack of ROMEO photocards.
She stopped when she pulled out one card.
Naoya.
Chieri stood up and walked back toward Haru, the photocard in her hand. She held it next to her own face. "Look! Is my face similar to him?"
Haru sat upright, surprised by the question. She looked between the photocard and Chieri's face. Then back at the photocard. Her eyes lingered a bit longer.
She hesitated before answering.
"I think…" she said softly, "his face is similar to Chieri's face." She looked up. "But I don't think that means he's… Chieri's dad for sure."
Her voice was calm. Rational. But her smile wavered—awkward, like she wasn't sure what reaction she might get.
Chieri's eyes didn't move from her. She seemed to be thinking deeply, her grip on the photocard tightening a little.
Without saying anything, she stepped closer to Haru and took her hand. "Let's go to my grandma!"
Haru blinked, caught off guard, but she stood up as Chieri tugged gently.
Still holding the photocard, Chieri led her through the hallway. Neither of them said anything. The only sound was the quiet tap of their footsteps on the floor.
"Grandma, are you there?" Chieri called out softly when they reached the kitchen door.
There was a short pause before a response came. "Hm?" her grandmother's voice sounded from inside. A soft click followed—she had just turned off the stove.
Chieri opened the door slowly and stepped inside, Haru following.
Her grandma was wiping her hands with a towel, glancing over her shoulder. "Yes?"
Chieri stood there for a second before speaking. "Grandma, can I ask you something?"
Her grandmother turned fully to face them, eyebrows lifting a little. "What is it?"
Chieri stepped forward, lifting the photocard slowly. "Is this person my dad?"
The question hung in the air.
Her grandmother blinked. Her expression didn't change right away, but her hands paused in motion. She looked at the photocard, then at Chieri.
"You're too young to understand…" she finally said, voice quiet. She turned away again, focusing on wiping the counter instead.
Chieri stayed still, lips pressing together.
"So is this person my dad?" she repeated, softer this time—but firmer in meaning.
Her grandmother hesitated again.
"Please. Tell me the truth."
Another pause.
Still no answer.
"Grandma!" Chieri's voice rose—not angry, just desperate—but Haru quickly reached out and held her arm gently.
"Chieri," she said quietly.
Chieri turned to look at her. Her eyes shimmered, the corners slightly wet, but no tears fell. She turned back to look at her grandmother, eyes still searching for something.
Haru stood beside her in silence, her expression full of quiet sympathy.
"You've never told me anything about my parents," Chieri said, her voice quiet but firm. "I'm sure you know something… but why won't you tell me?"
"Each time I asked you about it,you stay silent.So i figured out that I shouldn't ask you about it.."
"But"
Her grandma didn't move. She stood with her back to them, the cloth still in her hand.
Chieri's voice wavered just slightly as she continued, "Grandma, I'm sixteen this year. Sooner or later, I'm going to be an adult too."
"So please, tell me the truth."
Haru stood silently next to her, watching.
Chieri's hands slowly balled into fists at her sides. "I want to know about my parents. I want to know where I came from. Even if they're not here right now, I still want to know about them."
"Why..why can't I get to know about my own parents?"
"I feel like a stranger."
For a moment, no one said anything.
Then, her grandmother folded the cloth in her hands and set it down carefully on the counter.
She turned around.
Her steps were slow as she approached Chieri, her expression unreadable.
Then, without saying a word, she wrapped her arms around her granddaughter and pulled her into a hug.
Chieri stood still, surprised for a second—then her shoulders eased slightly. Her grandma patted her gently on the back.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart," her grandma said, patting Chieri's back with slow, steady hands.
She gently let go and looked at Chieri, her eyes warm but tired. There was a faint smile on her lips—not joyful, but sad and full of unspoken memories.
"Yes," she said quietly. "That man is your father."
Chieri's breath hitched, her eyes searching her grandma's face.
"I should've told you sooner," her grandma added after a pause, her voice low. "But I didn't know how. I kept putting it off, thinking maybe it wasn't the right time. But that time just kept slipping away."
She glanced toward the kitchen table and gently nodded her head.
"Come on, let's sit down for a bit. Haru-chan too."
She motioned for them to follow, the air still and tender as they moved toward the table.
.
.
Her grandma began pouring the tea with steady, deliberate hands. The sound of liquid hitting the cup was soft and calming. She placed a small plate of rice crackers on the table, then slowly sat down across from the girls with a quiet sigh.
"His name is Naoya," she said, her voice gentle but clear. "The surname Taira comes from your mother's side. From Mafuyu."
She rested her hands on her lap, eyes focused somewhere distant.
"I don't know everything about what happened. Or why he left. But he was a good boy…always polite and thoughtful."
She glanced down at her teacup before continuing.
"When he was around fourteen, he came home one evening, soaking wet from the rain. He stood in the entryway and asked me if he could become an idol."
A soft chuckle escaped her lips.
"It surprised me. He was always a quiet child. Liked to read, did well in school. I didn't think he was the type."
She took a small sip of tea, then set the cup down carefully.
"I said yes. I didn't think too much about it then. I just wanted him to do what made him happy."
"Later, when he turned seventeen, he got married. It was a rushed marriage. Too young, really."
She exhaled slowly, the memory clearly heavy on her.
"But it was something the Taira family asked for. I couldn't stop it. And maybe… it made sense. Mafuyu was a girl, and her family was very traditional."
"Her father was strict. Very strict. When I first met him, I was nervous. But I suppose he just wanted to protect his daughter."
Her grandma paused for a moment, her hands gently holding the teacup.
"I knew that your mother was pregnant. I remember Naoya calling me in the middle of the night. He was so excited when he told me the news," she said, her voice soft and distant, as though recalling a memory from long ago.
She took a deep breath, her gaze turning more solemn.
"A year after that, he returned home with you in his arms."
Her grandma's eyes briefly lowered as if lost in thought.
"Yet,he didn't seem happy about it, It was strange," she continued, her voice lowering even more, a hint of concern in her tone.
"He said to me, 'Mom, can you take care of Chieri for a while?' It came out of nowhere."
Chieri watched her closely, her hands still frozen in her lap as she listened intently.
"I asked him where Mafuyu was, but he didn't answer. He just left like that," her grandma said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I could feel something was wrong. I was worried, but he just walked out without saying anything more."
The room fell into a brief silence as Chieri processed the words. The weight of the story seemed to settle in the air.
Her grandma's hands rested quietly on the table now, her expression dimming.
"He never returned home after that," she said slowly. "And when I went to the hospital to ask about Mafuyu's condition… they told me she had been transferred somewhere else."
She shook her head a little, as if still confused by it all.
"I also tried to contact her father… but I couldn't reach him. His number changed. No one would give me answers."
She turned her eyes to Chieri, the lines on her face deepened by a mixture of age and quiet regret.
"I'm sorry for telling you all of this so late, Chieri. I should have… but the truth felt too heavy for a young child."
Her voice trembled just slightly.
"I really am sorry."
Chieri stayed silent for a while, her eyes wide and distant. She wasn't really looking at anything—just staring ahead, as if her thoughts had left the room. It felt like her mind had been dropped into deep water, and everything around her was muffled and slow.
Haru, noticing her expression, gently reached out and patted her back. Her face softened, eyes filled with quiet sympathy as she stayed close, not saying anything—just being there.
.
.
.
.
"Then, I'll excuse myself for today. Thank you for having me, Obaa-san," Haru said with a slight smile, already standing by the door, shoes on and bag over her shoulder.
"Of course. Take care, Haru-chan. And thank you...for comforting Chieri," the grandmother replied in a gentle tone, her smile warm.
Haru replied back with a gentle smile and gave a small wave, then quietly opened the door and stepped outside.
.
.
.
'I don't understand… Why did my father leave me?'
'Was it because I'm a burden?' she scoffed, bitterly.
'…But if that were true, he wouldn't have sounded so excited about my birth.'
She stood up and went to the wardrobe. From the bottom shelf, she pulled out a box. It was worn from age, the cardboard corners soft and bent. She placed it on her desk, lifted the lid, and inside was the old photo album—ROMEO's photo album.
Chieri took a slow breath, then opened it.
The pages smelled faintly of dust and time.
The first photo—
The four members of ROMEO, still in their teens, posing in matching casual clothes with wide smiles. Naoya stood in the middle, slightly slouched, his usual serious expression softening into a quiet grin.
Another photo—
ROMEO during practice, drenched in sweat, surrounded by half-empty water bottles and scribbled lyrics.
Their friendship looked real and solid.
Next—
A concert. The stage lights were blinding, and in the background, the crowd glowed with a sea of lightsticks—blue, red, pink, and purple. The colors of ROMEO.
Naoya stood in front, singing into the mic, one hand stretched out to the audience.
Chieri turned the page again.
Backstage photos,
The group laughing, one of them holding a cake that said "Debut 1st Anniversary."
Naoya with his head thrown back in laughter, his hand covering his face. It looked like someone had told a stupid joke.
And someone had drawn a cat face on everyone's face with a marker.
Another page—
Snapshots from their dorm. ROMEO members making hot pot, eating instant noodles, sprawled over each other on the couch close like brothers.
And then—
A photo stood out.
Just Naoya and a girl.
She had short brown hair, warm red eyes, and was holding a birthday cake. The candle letters read: "Mafuyu."
They were standing close. Their smiles were quiet, not posed. Just real. The kind you only give someone you love.
Chieri stared at the photo. Her vision blurred.
A single tear slid down her cheek…
And landed on the photo—right on Naoya's face.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she turned another page.
A few more photos.
Naoya and other members in yukata at a festival.
Naoya holding a goldfish bag and looking confused.
ROMEO performing overseas, waving at fans.
A candid shot of Naoya alone, staring out a window.
All of them… full of life, yet so distant from her.
Her lips didn't move, but her heart screamed:
'I'm so lonely.'
'Why did you leave me?'
.
.
.
.
To be continued