Makoto stood there for a moment, the coldness of the car park seeping back into his skin. He looked down at his wrinkled suit. Still smelling of Ayane's perfume and his own sweat, he looked like anything but a serious professional.
Makoto walked back to the elevator while eating the squashed melon pan. It was sweet and slightly stale, but it was probably the best thing he had tasted all week.
Makoto walked back to the apartment at 8:05 PM. The house was cleaned, too spotless. There were no controllers or fabric scraps on the floor. Even the smell of the mackerel was gone, repced by the faint scent of a generic lemon cleaner.
Mika was the only one in the living room, sitting on the sofa with her ptop. She looked up as he entered, her expression grave. "You're five minutes te," she said, her voice was cold and heavy.
"I know. I'm sorry." Makoto sat on the edge of the armchair, feeling like a stranger in his own home.
Mika closed her ptop and stood up. She walked over to him, standing in front of him, her pink eyes searching his face. "Ayane told me about the car park."
Makoto winced. "I snapped at her, too, Mika. I didn't mean to, but she was so..."
"She was trying to save you from yourself," Mika interrupted, reaching out and touching the fresh, jagged mark on his neck that Ayane had left. "And you responded with harsh words. You are trying to build a career without remembering why you needed it in the first pce."
She stepped back, her expression pained. "Yuna wasn't mad at you, Makoto. She's hurt because she thinks you're ashamed of her. She worries that the serious saryman version of you doesn't want a zy gamer stepsister."
"That's not true! I'm doing this for her!" Makoto shouted back.
"Then show her," Mika said and turned toward Yuna's room. "We are going to bed together tonight. We have decided that the household requires a reset. You will be sleeping in your own office."
"Mika, wait!" Makoto called out.
"Goodnight, Makoto," she said, her voice firm. The door clicked shut.
Makoto stood in the middle of the perfectly clean but silent living room. He walked down the hallway. He could hear voices coming from Yuna's room.
"…he said I was reckless," Ayane's voice, muffled and thick with tears.
"He's a jerk," Yuna's voice, sharp and angry. "He yelled at me over the dirty floor! Like it's the end of the world."
"Stress affects how people think," Mika's voice, calm but tight. "However, his communication is bad, and he is isoting himself."
"Must be his new job," Mafuyu's voice, soft and sad. "It must be hard and tiring. It's changing him."
Makoto stood there, his hand hovering over the doorknob. He wanted to burst in to defend himself. He wanted to yell, "I'm doing this for you all! I'm tired, but I'm trying!" But he couldn't, because they were right.
He pulled his hand back. He walked to his room, closed the door, and sat in the dark.
He found a proper job with a decent sary, enough to provide for his family. But as he walked into his small, cramped office and stared at the Aiko-bot code on his screen, he realized he had never felt more alone.
"One week," he thought, ying a bnket on the floor. "I've been a saryman for one week, and I've already broken my home." He closed his eyes, the blinking cursor of his ptop the only light in the dark room.
===
Two hours ter, there was a knock. "Come in," Makoto said, still sitting up on his bed.
The door opened, and it was Mika. She walked in and closed the door behind her, leaning against it. She looked tired in her simple silk pajamas. "We need to talk," she said.
"Are you here to yell at me again?" Makoto asked bitterly.
Mika shook her head as she walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge, keeping a distance. She folded her hands in her p and said softly, "No, I am here to mediate. You are hurting them, Makoto. Yuna feels rejected. Ayane feels foolish. They were trying to connect with you, and you pushed them away."
"I'm stressed, Mika," Makoto said, rubbing his eyes. "Yuna almost ruined the rug. I almost got caught having sex in public today. I'm trying to be responsible."
"I know," Mika said. "I know how hard the first job can be. Your stress is high, and your sleep is bad." She reached out to pce a hand on his knee.
"But you are viewing this as a zero-sum game. You think that to be responsible, you must sacrifice our retionship. You think you must choose between Provider and Partner." She squeezed his knee. "That is wrong."
"Why?" Makoto asked.
"Because you forgot the reason!" Mika said simply. "Why do you work this hard, Makoto? Is it just to pay bills? Or is it so that Yuna can buy figures? So Ayane can cospy? So we can have this life?"
She leaned closer. "You are the container for our chaos, Makoto. But if you seal it too tight… you suffocate it."
Mika took his hand. "Yuna didn't want you to help her clean, she wanted you to tell her it was okay to be messy. Ayane didn't want to get you fired, she wanted to remind you that you are still the man who takes her in alleys, not just the man who wears a suit and writes code."
Makoto looked at their joined hands. He felt a lump in his throat. "I don't know what they think. I... I don't know how to do both," he whispered.
"You failed, then you learned," Mika said. "Just like you learned to code, or how you took us all into your harem."
She stood up. "Apologize to them, not now, give them some time to process. Do something irrational or stupid. Remind them that the job hasn't killed the fat, silly Makoto they love."
She walked to the door and turned her head back. "And Makoto?"
"Yeah?" He looked up.
"For the record," she said, a rare smile touching her lips. "The trench coat idea? It was mine. Hope you enjoy the sight." She winked, and then she was gone.
Makoto y back on the bed. He thought about Yuna's face that day, about Ayane's trench coat. He realized he had been trying to protect them from the stress of the real world, but in doing so, he had shut them out.
He picked up his phone and opened the group chat, which had been silent all day, and started typing.
Makoto: I'm sorry, Yuna. I'm an idiot!
Makoto: And Ayane… you looked really hot in that coat.
He waited. Three dots appeared.
Ayane: You owe me a new pair of heels, boss. I broke one running.
Yuna: And I need a new rug, a fluffy, limited-edition Klee one. And get me a new Raiden duvet for my bed.
Mafuyu: Maybe… we can make pancakes together for tomorrow breakfast, honey?
Makoto smiled faintly. It wasn't forgiveness, not yet, but it was a good start.
Makoto: Deal!
He finally put the phone down. The silence in the room felt a little less heavy.
"Fail and learn," he thought. "I can do that."

