"I’m done thinking about it! I hate that man! I don’t ever want to see him again!" Yuji shouted, his fists clenched white. "It’s not that he threw me away—I’m the one who’s giving up on him!"

  "Even so, you can’t give up on yourself," Jun said, his voice dropping into a rare, profound tenderness. "Look, if you leave the Home now, who are you going to lean on when things get hard? Who are you going to talk to when you just need to be a kid for five minutes?"

  "I don't need to 'lean' on anyone! I’m in middle school now!"

  Don't say that like it's a fact, Yuka thought sadly from the hallway. Everyone needs someone.

  Jun sighed and pulled Yuji’s head into his chest, holding him in a firm embrace. The boy struggled for a second, then went still. His shoulders began to heave.

  "Let it out," Jun whispered, patting his back. "Cry. It’s okay. We’ve all been through it. Just promise me you’ll stay in school. Go to a good high school, okay?"

  The boy gave a muffled, tearful nod against Jun’s shirt.

  Jun eventually settled Yuji into his room. When he emerged, two more people were waiting in the hall: Director Meiko and Haruka Mochizuki.

  "What is she doing here?" Yuka asked, her smile sharpening into a blade. Haruka didn't even acknowledge her.

  "Ms. Mochizuki brought an engineering team to inspect the grounds," Director Meiko explained with a serene smile. "They’re checking for structural issues and outdated equipment so they can begin renovations."

  "Unlike certain people who are just 'lingering' around, I prefer to be actually useful," Haruka said coolly.

  Saaya watched the scene from the shadows. Fight! she thought. Go for the throat! Neither of you feels like a 'Good Woman' anyway.

  "This is my home," Jun said, looking exhausted. "Do me a favor and take the bickering outside, alright? I just spent an hour comforting one kid; I don't have the energy to manage two more."

  The two girls went silent, though the tension between them was thick enough to choke on. The other orphans gave them a wide berth.

  "I told you," one of the older boys whispered. "Jun-nii leaves for six months and he already has two girls hunting him down."

  "Poor Natsumi-chan," a girl giggled. "She doesn't stand a chance."

  "I missed my chance too! Jun-nii promised I’d be his bride when I grew up!" cried a ten-year-old.

  "In the anime I watch, guys like Jun-nii usually end up in a bag at the bottom of a river," another boy added helpfully.

  "Alright, that’s enough! Everyone back to your chores!" Jun’s voice was weary but warm—like a grizzly bear showing its soft, honey-covered underbelly.

  Yuka breathed a sigh of relief. She was glad the other band members had already left; if they had heard Jun’s "family voice," half of them would have joined the hunt.

  The evening was quiet. Jun went for a walk around the perimeter of the Home, flanked by Saaya on his right and Director Meiko on his left. Haruka took the far left flank, while Yuka took the far right. It was a bizarre, silent procession.

  "I’m Saaya," the girl said, introducing herself to the newcomers. "I grew up with Jun-nii. We're as close as siblings."

  The 'Little Sister' archetype, Yuka noted, relieved. One less threat to worry about.

  After dinner, Yuka claimed her home was too far to travel to so late and asked to stay the night. Once the Director agreed, Haruka wordlessly followed suit.

  Director Meiko, a veteran of social dynamics, understood the "balance of power" perfectly.

  The two girls were put in the same guest room. They lay in their respective futons in total silence, the only sound being the chirping of crickets outside. The walls were thin; they could hear Saaya and Meiko-Obaasama talking in the next room.

  "Saaya," Meiko’s voice drifted through the wall. "Which of those girls do you think would make Jun-kun the happiest?"

  _____

  Yuka and Haruka both froze under their covers, holding their breath to hear Saaya’s answer.

  "Honestly? Neither of them," Saaya said, her tone absolute. "They both have a really weird... 'scent' about them."

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  "Saaya, you aren't a puppy. You shouldn't trust your nose so much," the Director chuckled.

  In the dark room next door, both Yuka and Haruka instinctively sniffed themselves. I smell fine! they both thought indignantly.

  "I liked that girl who led the band today, though," Saaya continued. "The one in charge of the music. She had a 'Good Woman' vibe."

  Before they even fell asleep, Yuka and Haruka had arrived at a silent truce: Keep Maki Yamami away from Jun at all costs.

  The next morning, Yuka threw back her covers and stretched, her shirt riding up to reveal a sliver of her pale waist. Haruka was still a ball under her own blankets, fast asleep.

  Yuka walked outside and saw Jun jogging around the perimeter of the Home. By the time she made it to the dining hall for breakfast, Jun was already seated, his hair damp from a post-run shower.

  "You’re an early bird, Jun," Yuka said, sitting across from him.

  "When I’m home, I do a perimeter sweep every morning," Jun said between bites of eggs. "I like to make sure there are no 'vulnerabilities' in the neighborhood."

  A young girl sitting next to him looked up at him with pure, unadulterated worship. To her, he was a knight guarding the castle.

  Halfway through breakfast, Haruka stumbled in, rubbing her eyes. In her half-asleep state, she walked straight toward Jun, her body on autopilot to sit on his lap. It was only when she saw Yuka’s murderous glare that she snapped awake and swerved into a different chair.

  Jun glanced at her. Haruka kept her head down, but her ears were a vibrant, maple-leaf red.

  After breakfast, Jun went to the Director’s office to give his "Status Report."

  "Grades are in the top tier...偏差值 (Standard Score) is stable... Geography Olympiad is the priority... part-time hustle is going well..." He listed everything with clinical precision.

  Meiko sat in her rocking chair, nodding silently. When he finished, she spoke.

  "Jun-kun, I’m not worried about your success. You were always the most capable child we ever had. And thank you for handling Yuji; I’m getting too old to play the 'tough love' role with the boys."

  "But," she added softly, "I’m worried you’re trying too hard. You don't have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders alone, okay?"

  Jun gave her a small, shy smile. It was the only time his mask truly vanished.

  It was a rare overcast day—perfect for walking. Jun took his "guests" on a tour of the neighborhood.

  "This is the park where I used to bring Saaya and the others," he said, pointing to a small playground.

  "And that’s the elementary school I attended."

  They stopped at the school gates. The bulletin board still had a photo of a much younger, smaller Jun. He was wearing a red headband and clutching a relay baton, a look of fierce determination on his face.

  "Oh my god," Yuka whispered. "He was so precious."

  "And these alleys," Jun said, gesturing to the dark corners between buildings, "are where the 'incidents' happened."

  "Incidents?" Haruka asked, her eyes never leaving the childhood photo.

  "The Home kids were always targets for bullies. Whenever someone got picked on, I’d come out here for a bit of 'Applied Justice,'" Jun said, flexing his fist with a grin.

  "But you were just a kid too," Yuka said, worried. "Weren't you outnumbered?"

  "One-on-one? Never a problem. When they brought friends... well, I took my fair share of bruises."

  "Who hit you?" Haruka asked, her hand moving toward her phone as if she were ready to order a hit on people from ten years ago.

  "I don't remember their names. Besides, I was an Honor Student. If I got hit, I’d go straight to the principal. Teachers always take the side of the kid with the best grades."

  "But you can't keep that up forever," Yuka noted. "People hold grudges."

  "Which is why I stopped fighting 'in the light' when I hit middle school."

  "And in the dark?"

  "A legend started circulating around then," Jun said, his voice dropping. "Word was there was a guy in a black hoodie and a mask roaming the neighborhood. People said he was a juvenile delinquent who had 'graduated' from a correctional facility. He only hunted other bullies. He never lost."

  "During my three years of middle school, the local juvenile crime rate dropped by 60%. The police should have given me a medal."

  "That’s still dangerous," Yuka sighed, while Haruka gave an approving nod.

  "It was a necessity," Jun said. Suddenly, he sprinted forward, took two steps up a concrete wall, and hauled himself onto the top of the perimeter fence with one hand. "Power is the only thing that earns the right to lead!"

  They retreated before the security guard arrived, though not before Haruka and Yuka had "liberated" every single childhood photo of Jun from the display board.

  "Jun," Haruka asked as they walked back. "Did you ever think about being adopted?"

  Jun didn't stop. "You probably don't know the stats, Mochizuki. In Japan, 'adoption' as you think of it is almost impossible. Most kids in care stay in care. 'Special Adoption' (for minors) only happens about five hundred times a year. There are thirty thousand kids in the system."

  Jun had researched this years ago. Japan has one of the highest "adoption" rates in the world, but 90% of those are "Adult Adoptions"—wealthy families adopting a twenty-year-old man to take over the family business.

  "I had offers," Jun continued. "Rich CEOs and wealthy widows came by a lot when I was in grade school. I turned them all down."

  "Why?"

  "Because if I left, who would protect the kids? If I wasn't here, who would keep Yuji from throwing his life away because he’s sad? Who would Saaya talk to?"

  "I couldn't just take the 'Easy Life' and leave them behind. It wouldn't mean anything."

  They walked back through the gates of the Home. Jun looked up at the weathered sign.

  "Most kids here have dreams that are broken or grey. I can't accept that."

  "I have to give them a dream that’s golden. A dream that’s powerful. I have to show them that we can walk all the way to the end... and win."

  ________

  Jun sat at the ticket booth, a sea of people pressing against the glass. This was his third night working at Club Seata, and the headlining boy band was about to go on.

  "Can you hurry it up? I need to see Midori-kun!" a girl shrieked, shoving her phone toward the scanner.

  "My apologies, Ma'am. The network is a bit slow tonight; thank you for your patience."

  Jun had the "Polite Staff" routine down to a science. Usually, it was automated, but the club was in a basement, and the Wi-Fi was notoriously flaky.

  It had been four days since he returned from the Home. He’d spent his days looking for a second "Hustle," but he was being rejected by every lead he found. It was bizarre.

  "MOVE! If I miss the opening, I’m going to die!" someone shouted from the back. The crowd began to surge. The lone security guard nearby was already sweating.

  "The show starts in three minutes! Fix the machine!" the mob roared.

  The pressure finally broke the front line. A group of girls was shoved forward, stumbling toward the turnstiles and the heavy scanning equipment.

  Jun moved before he could even think. He vaulted over the counter, sliding between the falling girls and the machinery. He braced his arms, catching the weight of the crowd like a breakwater against a tide.

  The surge stopped, but the cost was Jun’s official staff cap, which was knocked to the floor.

  "Are you alright?" Jun asked, looking at the three girls huddled behind him.

  "We’re fine, but your staff—" The girl on the floor started to snap, but her voice died in her throat as she looked up.

  "Oh my god," someone whispered. The hall went silent.

  Jun looked back. His face was projected on the massive "Entry Status" screen above the lobby. Without the cap, his sharp jawline and focused eyes were on full display for the entire room.

  "He’s... hotter than Midori-kun," a girl muttered. The rest of the "Midori Stans" instinctively nodded before remembering they were supposed to be there for the idol.

  "Time is short," Jun said, grabbing the security guard’s megaphone. "Please form an orderly line. We will have everyone inside before the first song finishes."

  "Yes, Sir!" the girls chirped, their voices suddenly sweet and cooperative.

  The line moved like clockwork. Once everyone was inside, Jun found his hat and went to put it back on. The manager walked over and stopped him. "Matsue-kun, keep the hat off. It’ll make the exit-flow much easier if they’re looking at you instead of the doors."

  Jun shrugged and set the hat on the desk. He sat back down, enjoying the relative peace of the performance.

  But five minutes later, a girl walked back out of the main hall.

  "Can I help you, Ma'am?" Jun asked, standing up.

  The girl was wearing a purple "Midori" shirt and clutching a lightstick. She looked incredibly flustered.

  "Um... my seat is all the way in the back. And I realized... I’d much rather be out here talking to the ticket guy."

  Jun blinked. You paid twenty dollars for a ticket just to come back out and look at me?

  "Is it okay if we just... chat?" she asked hopefully.

  Jun looked at his manager. The man gave him a frantic "Thumbs Up" and a "Keep Her Happy" gesture.

  "Sure," Jun sighed. "What do you want to talk about?"