The soft hum of the air conditioning was the only sound that permeated the otherwise still room.

Takumi Tsurugi sat in the far corner of the common room at the “Shinshu Children's Home” in a small Japanese town. The room was adorned with bright murals and the occasional stuffed toy, yet it felt more like a museum of forgotten dreams than a place of warmth.

Takumi, a twelve-year-old with somber eyes and an aura of detachment, stared at the worn tatami mat beneath him. His small hands were clasped together in his lap, and his legs were pulled up to his chest. Despite the lively chatter and occasional laughter of the other children, Takumi remained isolated, seemingly enveloped in a cocoon of silence. His dark hair fell messily over his forehead, and his clothes, though clean, looked slightly too big for his thin frame.

The heavy wooden door of the room creaked open, drawing Takumi’s gaze for a fleeting moment before he returned to his solitary contemplation. The caregiver, Mrs. Yamada, walked in with her usual brisk efficiency. Her expression was one of practiced warmth, but a hint of weariness lingered in her eyes.

Following her, a distinguished-looking couple entered. The man, Mr. Fujimoto, wore a tailored suit and exuded an air of quiet authority. His wife, Mrs. Fujimoto, was elegantly dressed in a pastel blouse and skirt, her demeanor exuding kindness and maternal love.

Mrs. Fujamoto’s gaze swept across the room, scanning the various children who were engaged in different activities. They looked up curiously at the newcomers, their faces alight with the possibility of change. However, Mrs. Fujimoto’s attention was drawn to Takumi almost immediately. She approached him, her eyes softening with concern.

“Is this one available for adoption?” she asked, her voice tinged with both curiosity and a gentle, maternal edge.

Mrs. Yamada hesitated, her gaze flickering to Takumi and then back to the couple. “Yes, he is,” she said, her voice betraying a note of caution. “But I must warn you, Takumi is a special case.”

The Fujimotos exchanged a glance. Mr. Fujimoto cleared his throat. “What do you mean by that?”

Mrs. Yamada sighed deeply, the lines on her face deepening as she chose her words carefully. “Takumi... he doesn’t associate much with the other children. He’s experienced a lot of trauma in his past and has trouble communicating. He keeps to himself and... well, he’s not the easiest child to connect with.”

Mrs. Fujimoto knelt down to Takumi’s level, her expression one of empathy. She extended a hand toward him. “Hello, Takumi. I’m Mrs. Fujimoto. We’re here to meet you because we think you’re very special.”

Takumi’s gaze met hers briefly, his eyes reflecting a mix of caution and curiosity. He didn’t move, his silence palpable.

“We understand that he’s had a difficult past,” Mr. Fujimoto said, his tone resolute. “But we’re prepared to offer him a loving home. We believe he deserves a chance.”

Mrs. Yamada looked conflicted. “I understand your intentions, but you should be aware that integrating him into a new environment might be challenging. He’s had a lot of difficulty with... emotional stability.”

Mrs. Fujimoto shook her head gently. “We’re aware of the challenges. We’ve done this before, and we’re committed to helping him through any difficulties. If he’s willing, we’re ready to provide the support he needs.”

With a resigned sigh, Mrs. Yamada nodded. “Very well. If you’re sure, then we’ll proceed with the adoption.”

The paperwork was quickly arranged, and the process, though hurried, was conducted with the gravity of its significance. The Fujimotos signed the final documents, their signatures formalizing Takumi’s transition from the orphanage to their home. Mrs. Yamada handed over a folder containing Takumi’s personal records, and Takumi was given a small, hand-me-down suitcase.

As Takumi’s name was officially changed to Takumi Fujimoto, he glanced up, his eyes betraying a flicker of uncertainty but also a glimmer of hope. The Fujimotos, now his new family, gently guided him toward the door. The transition was abrupt, but in the quiet, Takumi found himself caught between the familiarity of the orphanage and the unknown future that awaited him.

As they left the Shinshu Children's Home, the once somber atmosphere of the orphanage seemed to recede behind them. The world outside was different from the one Takumi had known—a world full of possibilities and challenges.

The Fujimoto residence was a sprawling house with an air of polished elegance. As Takumi stepped inside, he was greeted by the soft, golden glow of chandeliers and the gentle hum of a modern air conditioning unit. The scent of fresh flowers from the foyer mixed with the faint aroma of home-cooked meals wafting from the kitchen.

Mrs. Fujimoto led Takumi through the entrance hall with a warm, encouraging smile. “Welcome to your new home, Takumi. I’m so excited to have you here,” she said. Her voice was gentle, yet there was an undeniable enthusiasm in her tone.

She motioned toward a door on the right. “Let me introduce you to your new siblings. This is Riku,” she said, guiding Takumi toward a boy standing nervously by the door. Riku, about ten years old, had short, neatly combed hair and a shy, yet curious expression. Next to him stood his younger sister, Aiko, who looked to be around eight years old. Aiko’s pigtails bobbed as she gave Takumi a hesitant smile.

“This is Aiko,” Mrs. Fujimoto continued, her voice brimming with warmth. “I know they’re excited to meet you. They’ve been asking for a new sibling for a while now.”

Takumi looked up at Mrs. Fujimoto, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Why did you adopt me when you already have children?”

Mr. Fujimoto, who had been quietly observing from the doorway, stepped forward. “Our children wanted another sibling. They’ve been hoping for a new family member for some time, and we felt that adopting you would be the right thing to do.”

Takumi nodded silently, his gaze dropping to the floor. He followed Mrs. Fujimoto as she led him to the stairs and up to the second floor. The house seemed expansive, each room meticulously decorated.

At the end of the hallway, Mrs. Fujimoto opened the door to a cozy room. “This will be your room, Takumi,” she said, her voice gentle. “I hope you like it.”

Takumi stepped inside, his eyes scanning the space. The room was decorated in soothing shades of blue, with a neatly made bed, a small desk, and a bookshelf filled with various books and toys.

"I'll bring your things upstairs, you can check your room out," Mrs Fujimoto said and turned from him, leaving his presence.

As he stood at the threshold, taking in his new surroundings, Riku and Aiko entered the room behind him.

Aiko, her voice barely more than a whisper, said, “We don’t really want you here. We’d have preferred someone else.”

Riku nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we don’t like you. You shouldn’t talk to us.”

Takumi stood motionless, his eyes fixed on the floor. The words of the children seemed to cut through the silence, but he chose not to respond.

Mrs. Fujimoto, hearing the commotion from the hallway, quickly ran back into the room.

"That’s enough," she said, her voice leaving no room for argument. “You should not speak to your new brother like that. It’s not kind.”

The door to Takumi’s room swung open as Mrs. Fujimoto entered, her expression a blend of concern and authority. Riku and Aiko, who had been standing close to Takumi, immediately shrank back under the weight of her gaze.

“That’s enough,” Mrs. Fujimoto said firmly, her voice brooking no argument. “I won’t tolerate you speaking to your new brother like that. Apologize to Takumi.”

Riku and Aiko glanced at each other nervously, their faces reflecting guilt.

"Sorry," they mumbled before quickly turning and shuffling out of the room. Mrs. Fujimoto watched them leave, her disappointment evident.

When the door clicked shut, she turned her attention to Takumi. She walked over to him, her and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m really sorry about that, Takumi,” she said softly. “You don’t have to listen to unkind words. I like you just the way you are, and I’m here for you. I won’t force you to talk or to be someone you’re not. I understand that you might need time. I’m patient, and I’ll wait for you to come around.”

Mrs. Fujimoto then bent down and pressed a gentle kiss to Takumi’s forehead. “Take all the time you need,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. “We’re not going anywhere.”

With a final, comforting smile, she straightened up and turned to leave. The door closed softly behind her, leaving Takumi alone in the quiet of his new room.

As Takumi looked around the room, he thought of how kind the family was to give him a comfortable room as all his life, he's shared with others in the orphanage. He decided not to bother about Aiko and Rumi as their parents were nice to him. For the first time since arriving, Takumi felt a flicker of something other than isolation—perhaps a glimmer of hope that, despite everything, he might find a place where he could belong.

Darkness had covered the sky and Takumi slept peacefully in his new room. However, unknown to him, his new siblings had other plans. Aiko and Riku, mischievously tiptoed through the dimly lit hallway with an air of excitement and secrecy. They had thought of a way to make Takumi uncomfortable in the house and decided to execute it that night.

Aiko, carried a small porcelain jug filled with cool water. Riku, followed, ready to assist in their nocturnal adventure. The siblings paused outside Takumi's room, a subtle smile on their lips as they glanced at each other.

 Aiko gently nudged the door open, and with a careful, practiced hand, she poured a small amount of water onto Takumi’s face.

Takumi stirred, his eyes fluttering open in confusion. He wiped his face groggily and looked up to see Aiko and Riku standing by his bedside, trying hard to stifle their laughter. His initial confusion turned to mild annoyance as he slowly sat up. Without a word, he got out of bed and walked toward the bathroom, hoping a splash of cold water might help him wake up fully.

Aiko and Riku, seizing the opportunity, moved swiftly. As Takumi entered the bathroom, they gently but firmly shut the door behind him and engaged the lock with a soft click. Inside, Takumi was unaware of their mischievous plot until he reached for the door handle, finding it unyielding. He pushed and pulled in vain before his frustration turned to resignation. With a heavy sigh, he sank to the cool tiled floor, the water from his earlier awakening still dripping from his face.

The bathroom, with its pale green tiles and faint hum of a ventilation fan, offered little comfort. Takumi stretched out on the floor, his frustration gradually giving way to a quiet, detached acceptance of his situation. He closed his eyes, letting the monotony of the room lull him back into a fitful sleep.

As the first light of dawn filtered through the small bathroom window, Mrs. Fujimoto, started her day with a routine that included checking on her children. Her gentle footsteps echoed softly as she made her way down the hall. When she arrived at Takumi's door which was open, she noticed the unusual quietness, a feeling of unease settled over her.

As she entered, she didn't find him on the bed. She tried not to panic and looked around, wondering where he could be. "Takumi." She called.

She approached the bathroom door and knocked softly on the door. "Takumi, are you in here?"

There was no response and concern etched deeply on her face. "Takumi are you alright in there?" She knocked louder and called his name with increasing urgency. Hearing nothing but the muffled silence, she quickly unlocked the door and opened it. Her eyes widened in surprise as she found Takumi lying on the floor.

“Takumi!” Mrs. Fujimoto exclaimed, her voice tinged with both relief and reprimand. “I’m so sorry! Aiko and Riku have been up to their mischief again. Are you hurt?”

Takumi sat up slowly, his expression unreadable. He brushed himself off and shook his head. “I’m fine,” he said quietly, his voice carrying no trace of the annoyance or discomfort he might have felt. His demeanor was calm, almost indifferent, as he wiped away the last traces of sleep from his face.

Mrs. Fujimoto’s eyes softened with a mixture of empathy and disappointment. “I’ll speak to them immediately,” she promised. She helped Takumi to his feet, offering a gentle, apologetic smile before turning on her heel to find her children.