Bound by a Wish

The evening sun filtered through the dusty windows of the building's stairwell, casting soft hues of orange and gold over the walls. Kaori Moriyama sat on the cold stone steps, her back pressed against the railing, her mind a maze of conflicting thoughts. The faint hum of the bustling street outside echoed through the narrow hallways, but it felt distant—like another world she could never touch.

The stairwell was her refuge, a quiet corner away from the chaos of home. She gazed at the peeling paint on the walls, lost in her thoughts, like the breeze slipping through the cracks in the window.

I always dream of something better… something perfect, she whispered to herself, her voice barely rising above the creak of the old building. A family full of laughter and love. Mom in the kitchen, humming a song while Dad tells jokes that make us all laugh… Itsuki's bright eyes, full of innocence. A day when we're all together, a day that feels whole.

For a fleeting moment, the image felt real, vivid, as if it could reach her. The joy of a perfect family, all of them connected, laughing together. But then, reality shattered the illusion. She sighed, running her fingers along the rough surface of the railing. What's the point? she muttered under her breath, bitterness creeping in. I'm just imagining things again. It will never change. It's a waste of time.

Her heart grew heavy as she pulled her knees to her chest, the weight of her thoughts pressing down on her. The fantasy of a perfect family—her brother's carefree smile, their parents happy and together—felt out of reach. It was a dream that seemed so close yet always just beyond her grasp.

Kaori's breath caught when she heard the faint creak of the building's main door below. She peered cautiously over the edge of the stairwell, her heart skipping a beat as she saw him—her father.

There he is, she thought, her chest tightening. I knew he'd come. He always does. And I always hide.

She quickly stood, climbing a few steps higher, crouching behind the railing. Her breath quickened, and her heart pounded as she listened to his footsteps, heavy and deliberate, climbing the stairs. She pressed herself against the wall, feeling the tension fill the air as he passed by, his shadow fleeting in the narrow space.

Once he had disappeared into the shadows above, Kaori exhaled a shaky breath, the weight in her chest not quite lifted but eased. She sank back onto the stairs, staring at the light filtering through the window at the end of the hall. The warmth of the sun seemed like the only thing that hadn't let her down today.

Then, a thought stirred in her mind, cutting through the fog of her frustration—Itsuki. His birthday was coming up, and Kaori wanted it to be special. She needed it to be.

"I'll make it perfect for him this time," she told herself. "But… can I? Mom and Dad won't care. They'll ruin it again, like always. It's always the same. I try to make it better, but nothing changes." I want him to feel loved, to feel special. But every year, it's the same. Mom and Dad are too wrapped up in their own lives. They don't see him, they don't see us. And I can't fix it. I can't make it right.

She closed her eyes, imagining for a moment that this time might be different. But as the doubt crept in, she whispered softly, Why do I keep fooling myself? It's always the same. I try to make things special for Itsuki, but Mom and Dad are never there. And I'm just left picking up the pieces. It's pointless.

Her fists clenched, frustration bubbling within her. No matter how hard I try, it's never enough. I can't fix them. I can't make things better. I can't give Itsuki the family he deserves.

Her mind spiraled, and the sharp ache of it all blurred her vision. The dream of happiness felt like a cruel joke now, a constant reminder of what could never be.

The sound of children's laughter from the courtyard below broke through her thoughts, and Kaori's gaze shifted. There, walking through the gate, was Itsuki, his schoolbag slung over one shoulder, his pace casual, carefree.

He's almost home, Kaori thought, her heart softening. I'll wait for him. Even if everything else is falling apart, this small moment of connection is all I have left.

She pulled her knees closer to her chest, her eyes fixed on the stairwell door, willing herself to hold on to the fragile hope that things might change, just for today.

But deep down, she knew. It will never be enough, she whispered to herself. I'll try, but it'll always end the same way. Nothing ever changes.

She closed her eyes for a moment, but when she opened them again, her heart skipped as she saw Itsuki at the bottom of the stairs.

"Itsuki!" she called out, her voice filled with warmth and relief, the heaviness lifting from her chest for just a moment.

Itsuki looked up, his face lighting up as he grinned. "Hey, Kaori-nee! You were waiting again?"

"Of course! How was school? Did anything fun happen?" she asked, her tone gentle.

"It was okay. We had a math quiz today, and guess what? I think I did pretty well!" Itsuki's excitement was palpable, his energy filling the air like a breath of fresh air.

Kaori ruffled his hair affectionately. "That's my little genius. Come on, let's head home."

They walked together to their apartment, the familiar creak of the old wooden door greeting them as they stepped inside. But the sight inside the apartment was as disheartening as always. Shoes scattered near the entrance, bags piled on a chair, papers cluttering the table, and the muffled sound of their mother's voice on the phone from behind a locked door.

Kaori sighed, but she quickly turned to Itsuki with a soft smile. "Let's get you settled first." She led him to his room, gently placing his schoolbag on the desk.

"Want some tea?" she asked, brushing her hair back.

"Sure, Kaori-nee. But don't forget to rest too," Itsuki replied with a small, caring smile.

"Don't worry about me. Go change your clothes, and I'll have tea ready in no time," she said, stepping out of the room.

In the kitchen, Kaori's movements were quick and practiced as she brewed tea, pouring it carefully into three cups. But as she reached the door to her mother's room, she hesitated. She knocked gently. "Mom? I made some tea for you."

There was no response. She tried the door handle, but it was locked. From inside, she could hear her mother's animated voice, muffled but unmistakably distant.

Kaori's shoulders sagged as she stood there for a moment, the tea cups growing heavier in her hands. As usual, she muttered, turning away and heading back to Itsuki.

She entered Itsuki's room, holding the two remaining cups. "Here you go," she said, handing him one.

"Thanks, Kaori-nee," Itsuki said, taking a sip, his smile warm.

"What do you want to do now? Watch an episode or two?" Kaori asked softly.

Itsuki's eyes brightened. "Can we? It's been so long since we watched something together!"

Kaori nodded. "Of course. Let's relax for a bit."

They sat side by side on the worn-out couch, the glow of the screen illuminating their faces. The shared laughter of an anime episode, the warmth of their small moments together—each one chipped away at the heaviness in Kaori's heart, if only for a little while.

After finishing their tea, Kaori nudged Itsuki. "Alright, enough relaxing. Let's hit the books. We've got to make today count."

"Okay!" Itsuki said, his voice full of determination.

As they spread out their study materials on the table, the quiet camaraderie between them felt like a small victory. For Kaori, it wasn't the perfect family she had always dreamed of, but in moments like these, it was enough.