Chapter 243: Seed Of Doubt
"Haruto! Bring this package to the first floor!"
"Haruto! Have you packed up your room?!"
"Brother! Help me with this bed!"
"Haruto!"
"Haruto!"
"Brother!"
Haruto had been running around the house non-stop, bombarded by orders from Chiyo, Asuka, and Haruka.
Especially Asuka—who still held a grudge against him and had practically labeled him irresponsible in permanent ink.
"Alright, calm down, everyone! I only have two hands, two feet, and one body!" he groaned, standing in the middle of the living room with his arms thrown up in frustration.
"Then move faster!" three voices shouted from different parts of the house.
Haruto took a deep breath, willing himself not to lose his mind, when a gentle tap on his shoulder made him turn around.
Dr. Watanabe stood there, dressed in a simple white blouse tucked into a high-waisted red skirt that matched the color of her hair.
She smiled at him. "I’ll help your sister," she said before kicking the sofa where Rin was curled up, half-asleep. "You help Furukawa."
Rin jolted awake with a yawn, muttering nothing as she dragged herself toward the kitchen to start packing up the pans and electronics.
Haruto sighed in relief. "Thanks," he said with a grateful smile before heading up to the second floor, thinking, ’This is my chance to talk to Dr. Watanabe!’
They had all decided to move as soon as possible. Both he and Haruka had even skipped school to make it happen, all because Asuka had grown agitated over everyone’s safety.
It made sense, though. His recklessness had dragged all the women in his life into this mess.
As he opened the door to Chiyo’s room, he found her resting on the bed, wiping the sweat off her face.
Almost everything had already been packed into neatly stacked boxes, except for the bed, cupboard, and dressing table—Asuka had insisted they leave behind anything too heavy since the new house was already furnished.
Haruto walked over and sat beside her. "Are you okay? You don’t have to do all this, Chiyo. The doctor said your pregnancy is still weak," he murmured, rubbing her still-flat stomach with gentle fingers.
Chiyo smiled and lightly slapped his hand away. "I’m fine, Haruto. Sitting around all day is boring, and I know you guys could use the help."
"Don’t worry about it. This is just Asuka punishing me," he grumbled, shaking his head.
"She’s rich. She should’ve just hired movers instead of making me do everything."
Chiyo chuckled, threading her fingers through his dark hair as he leaned his head on her shoulder. "Well, you do deserve it."
"You already packed all of your things, right?"
"Yeah, yeah..." He sighed. "My room’s already packed. It was just books, so it didn’t take long."
Then came a comfortable silence before Chiyo suddenly looked at him with soft eyes.
"Haruto... I want you to stop being reckless. And I want you by my side during this pregnancy."
"You know—buying baby stuff, coming with me to the OB-GYN. I want you there all the time."
Haruto let out a low chuckle. "I would’ve done all that even without you saying it."
"It’s not that," Chiyo murmured, frowning slightly.
"It’s just... you seem to be carrying something I don’t understand, and I’m scared of losing you someday."
Haruto turned his head, pressing it against her temple as he inhaled her warmth. "Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere," he assured her.
And just as he was about to close his eyes—
"HARUTO! STOP RELAXING AND HELP ME!!!"
The door slammed open, and there stood Asuka, her bloodshot eyes blazing with pure fury, looking as though she was ready to murder him.
Haruto barely had a chance to react before she grabbed his collar and dragged him off to work.
Finally, after an exhausting day of packing, they were done. Deciding against cooking, they ordered takeout and gathered together for a meal.
After eating, the atmosphere lightened as they shared stories over alcohol and snacks—of course, only the women of legal drinking age were allowed to indulge.
As the night dragged on, one by one, they succumbed to exhaustion, falling asleep on the sofas and the floor.
In the end, only Haruto and Dr. Watanabe remained awake.
Haruto knew this was his chance to talk to her about his past.
"Dr. Watanabe," he began, wasting no time. "I don’t think you have any reason to turn me down if I ask you some questions, right?"
He always hated small talk—it made his skin crawl.
Dr. Watanabe chuckled, swirling the drink in her hand. "Of course! It’s not like I’m going to run off somewhere or that I’m hiding some grand secret, Hayase!" Her words were slightly slurred—she was tipsy.
"Good." Haruto leaned forward. "Recently, I met my childhood friend, but... I don’t remember much about my childhood."
Dr. Watanabe raised an eyebrow but remained silent as he continued.
"It’s not like I forgot about it—it feels more like I never lived through it in the first place. Like those memories don’t even belong to me."
For a moment, she said nothing. Then, without warning, she grabbed her beer can and downed the rest in one gulp before placing it down with a dull thud.
"The reason you were in the asylum..." she began, her voice slower now, heavier. "It was because... you killed someone, Hayase."
Haruto’s entire body stiffened.
"Your mother chose to send you to a mental institution instead."
His breath hitched. "What?"
His voice barely came out, trailing off as his mind went blank.
There wasn’t a single memory in his head to confirm that claim.
"You’re joking, right?" His voice was hoarse, almost desperate.
Dr. Watanabe shook her head. "No... It was a famous case in the village. You can look it up if you don’t believe me. If I remember correctly, it happened in your grandparents’ village."
She hiccupped, clearly drunk now, before starting to ramble about nonsense—her stepsister, Rin, and something about their relationship.
Haruto clenched his fists. ’Is she playing with me?’
’Should I use my psychometry?’
’I killed someone... when I was a child?’
’But why...?’
The more he tried to process it, the more his brain throbbed, as if rejecting the very idea.
’This is nonsense...’
And yet, the seed of doubt had already been planted.