Spring came, and with it, Ezra’s return to work. His body had healed. His mind? That was a different story. But he was strong. Mentally, emotionally—Ezra had been through worse, and he knew how to bounce back. So he did what he always did. He worked. Focused on his side project, drowned himself in blueprints and circuits, ignoring the stiff ache in his ribs that still lingered on colder mornings.

  And then—Haru arrived.

  Ezra didn’t acknowledge him at first—just let the kid clock in, settle in, do his own thing. But something was off. Haru was quieter now. That wasn’t normal. At first? Ezra was thankful for the peace. But then…

  The silence sted.

  And somehow? Somehow, the silence was worse than the yapping.

  Hours passed. Ezra tried to shake it off, tried to focus on work, but— He kept stealing gnces.

  Haru wasn’t humming to himself like usual.Wasn’t bouncing his leg under the table.Wasn’t talking through his thought process or spouting dumb theories out loud just to hear how they sounded.

  Nothing.

  Ezra set his tools down, rolling his shoulders uncomfortably. Then, finally—"Cat got your tongue, kid?" It was a small joke—one that made Ezra smirk to himself, amused at his own inside reference. But Haru didn’t react.

  Didn’t even look up.

  Ezra frowned. Cleared his throat. Waited. Eventually, Haru shifted, his fingers twitching against the table. Then—in a voice that cked his usual energy—he finally spoke. "Did it hurt?"

  Ezra blinked. Then, as if on autopilot, he smirked. "No," he said dryly. "It tickled."

  Haru didn’t ugh. Didn’t even crack a smile. Ezra’s smirk faded. Okay. So that’s not all that’s bothering him. Ezra exhaled through his nose, rubbing his fingers together before stepping away from his workstation.

  No more dodging it. No more letting this tension linger. "Alright, kid," Ezra said, walking over. "Wassup."

  Haru hesitated. Then, finally— "Why did you take the bme for me?"

  Ezra stopped. Really stopped. For a moment, he thought about dodging the question—thought about brushing it off with a joke. But when he looked down—When he saw the genuine sincerity in Haru’s expression—He knew he couldn’t.

  This wasn’t just any kid. This was someone he had to work with. Someone he had chosen to protect. So Ezra took a deep breath, rolling out his aching shoulders. "You might be the world's youngest genius, kid," he said, voice steady, calm, "but there's things in this world you're not ready for."

  Haru’s brow furrowed. His gears were turning. Ezra could see it happening, see the way Haru’s fingers fidgeted slightly, his eyes darting, processing, analyzing, deconstructing everything.

  Then—"Are we next?"

  The words were quiet. Heavy. Ezra’s gut twisted. But he smiled anyway. Soft. Reassuring. "Not if I have anything to say about it." Haru didn’t answer right away. But Ezra could tell—That helped.

  At least a little.

  Even with that weight off his chest, Ezra could tell Haru wasn’t okay. Usually, the kid was elbow-deep in blueprints, sketching some new machine, some new project, always thinking ten steps ahead.

  But today? He was just sitting there. Ezra sighed. "You need a break?"

  Haru nodded.

  Ezra dug into his pocket, pulling out his phone. "Here," he said. "But stay in my line of sight. I’m not fishing you out of the ceiling again."

  Haru giggled softly. And that? That was a small victory. The kid took the phone, flopped into a chair, and immediately booted up his test obsession.

  Tenzai Raikou.

  Ezra side-eyed him, watching the screen. Coughed. Muttered "weeb" under his breath. Haru didn’t even react. Just kept watching. Ezra shook his head, rolling his eyes, and went back to work. At least—for now—things were quiet again.

  Ezra had expected Haru to be glued to his phone for hours. Instead, after just a few episodes, the kid handed it back. Ezra raised a brow. “Huh. That’s suspicious.”

  Haru didn’t even snark back. No half-baked joke. No nerdy, overcomplicated tangent. Just that same quiet look. Yeah, nope. That does it. Work? Officially canceled. “You know what?” Ezra said, standing up. “We’re getting ice cream.”

  Haru blinked. "Wait… huh?"

  "Tokyo. Ice cream. Let’s go."

  “But we still have—”

  "Not today."

  Ezra ruffled Haru’s hair, grinning despite himself.

  "Genius or not, you’re still a kid. Let’s go do kid shit."

  Haru hesitated for a fraction of a second before breaking into a real smile.

  And for the first time in a long time—

  Ezra saw a bit of the old Haru again.

  The Tokyo ice cream bar was ridiculously over-the-top.

  Glowing menus.Fvors that made no damn sense.Some dude flipping a waffle cone behind his back like he was an Olympic gymnast.

  Haru, as expected, was in awe. They sat near the window, enjoying their sundaes, when Haru suddenly asked—"Did something like that ever happen to you when you were my age?"

  Ezra nearly choked on a scoop of fudge. He coughed, wiped his mouth, and let out a long, heavy sigh."Yeah," he admitted. "Much worse than just getting beat up." Haru, curious but not pushing, kept eating, waiting for Ezra to eborate. Ezra rolled his shoulders, stretching like he had to mentally prepare himself. “You know…” he started, smirking. “Ever tell you how I got my childhood nickname?”

  Haru’s eyes lit up. "You had a nickname?"

  Ezra sighed deeply. “Oh yeah. It was Cumstain.”

  Haru froze mid-bite. Then? Absolute, uncontrolble hysteria. Ezra had never heard the kid ugh that hard. Haru’s entire soul left his body as he cackled, nearly falling off his seat. "NOOOOOO WAAAAAYYYY!"

  Ezra groaned, rubbing his temples. “If you tell your parents, or—God forbid—start repeating that word, I swear, you’re a dead man.”

  Haru, still wheezing, wiped tears from his eyes. “I promise… snrk I won’t… but holy shit—Cumstain?! That’s BRUTAL.”

  Ezra scowled. “Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up.”

  But… It worked. Haru’s mood was lighter. And for once—Ezra wasn’t pissed about being the punchline.

  As Haru calmed down, he stirred his ice cream absentmindedly. "You know," he murmured. "I never actually wanted to work at Key Labs."

  Ezra paused mid-scoop. "What?"

  "I mean, it’s cool," Haru admitted, "but I always wanted to live in the forested hills back home."

  Ezra raised a brow. "Huh. Wouldn’t have pegged you for a hillside hobo."

  Haru snorted, ughing. “That’s basically what I wanted to be!” He twirled his spoon. "My parents… they groomed me for this. Told me that once I made it to the b, I could be anyone I wanted in the world."

  Ezra leaned back. "And yet, here you are."

  Haru sighed dramatically, wiping an imaginary tear. "A b rat instead of a hillside hobo."

  Ezra chuckled. "Tragic." With moods lifted, they wrapped up their ice cream. And for once? Things felt normal.

  At least—until they stepped outside.

  Ezra’s first mistake was thinking he could just enjoy his ice cream and head back to the train station without incident. His second mistake was not immediately recognizing the danger when Haru tugged on his sleeve and whispered: "Ezra. That guy. Is he wearing a White-Coat?"

  Ezra looked up—and immediately regretted it. There, in the middle of the Tokyo street performance square, stood a man in a white b coat. Except—this wasn’t a real White-Coat.

  No. This was a parody of one.

  The coat was too long, billowing dramatically despite the ck of any breeze. His wild, untamed hair stuck out in all directions, like a mad scientist who had licked an electrical socket for breakfast. And beside him—Oh no.

  Beside him stood a woman with a striped lion tail, twitching feline ears, and a confident smirk.

  Ezra squinted. Hard. "Jesus Christ," he muttered. "Are furries making a comeback?"

  Haru giggled, delighted. "Ezra, don’t be mean!"

  But before Ezra could respond, the mad scientist lookalike swiveled toward them, his expression dramatic and theatrical, his voice booming over the square.

  "You there!" Ezra stiffened. Oh no. The man pointed directly at him, his presence commanding an almost unnatural amount of attention. "My good sir!" he decred. "Do you dare take offense to my lovely granddaughter?!"

  Ezra, without hesitation, groaned and facepalmed.

  "Yeah, Ezra," Haru nudged him with his elbow. "Don’t call her a furry."

  Ezra turned slowly, eyes narrowed to the size of murder dots. "Haru," he said with unwavering conviction, "I will STRANGLE YOU WITH THAT TAIL."

  The lion girl gasped dramatically, clutching her chest like a damsel in distress. "Oh!" she cried. "How cruel! How unjust! Such baseless accusations upon my noble lineage!"

  Ezra’s entire soul left his body. A crowd started gathering. He could hear the whispers, the murmurs, the telltale sound of cameras clicking. The mad scientist man took a step forward, flipping his b coat with a dramatic flourish. "You, sir," he bellowed, "have insulted the honor of my fair granddaughter! I demand… an APOLOGY!"

  Ezra’s eye twitched. Oh, for the love of—

  Haru, now completely immersed in the situation, suddenly straightened his posture, pnting his hands on his hips. Then, with a completely over-the-top medieval accent, he decred: "My good sir, dost thou cim offense where none twas intended? Forsooth! My companion here is but a simple man of little decorum! Verily, he doth not comprehend the finer points of chivalry!"

  Ezra inhaled through his nose. Slowly. Deeply. Resisting the urge to punt Haru into the sun. Instead, he pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled. "Fine. FINE." He turned to the lion girl, raising his hands in defeat. "I’m sorry. Jeeeez."

  The lion girl smiled. Then, with graceful feline movements, she crouched down beside Haru and ruffled his hair. "Oh, you’re absolutely adorable," she purred.

  Haru, grinning like an idiot, turned back to Ezra. And with pure, unfiltered evil in his voice, he smirked and said—"Oh, she's HOT hot. You like her, don't you?"

  Ezra froze. The lion girl giggled. Then, to Ezra’s absolute horror— She hugged him. Ezra went completely stiff. Not because of the hug itself—But because of an oddly familiar feeling.

  Déjà vu.

  Like he had felt this before. Like this moment had already happened, somewhere, somewhen. And then—The crowd cooed. "Awwwwww!"

  And—PHONES.

  So many phones.

  OH NO.Ezra didn’t think. Didn’t hesitate. Didn’t wait for fate to solidify his downfall. He grabbed Haru like a suitcase—one arm under his legs, the other around his torso—And he BOOKED IT.

  "EZRA! WAIT!" Haru wheezed, bouncing in his grip like an oversized plushie.

  "NOPE. NOT GETTING LABELED A FURRY TODAY."

  Ezra sprinted toward the train station, dodging pedestrians, ignoring the delighted ughter behind him. "EZRA, YOU’RE MAKING IT LOOK WORSE!" Ezra ignored him. His dad might have married a furry. But he? He refused to be part of the next generation.

  Not today, Satan.

  The train ride back was too quiet.Ezra had finally started to rex, letting the chaos of the day fade into the background noise of the train’s rhythmic movement.

  Then—

  He patted his pockets. And his stomach dropped. His phone was gone.

  He patted again. Checked his jacket. Checked his work pants. Nothing.

  A slow, creeping dread settled in his chest. His eye twitched. "Haru," he said, voice dangerously calm. "Did you take my phone again?"

  Haru, mid-way through watching another episode of Tenzai Raikou on the train’s TV, looked up confused. His hands were empty. "No," Haru said. "You literally just gave it to me earlier."

  Silence. Ezra’s entire body stiffened. No. Oh, fuck no.

  THOSE FURRY BASTARDS!

  His breath caught, rage slowly building behind his exhausted expression. He had been swindled. Scammed. Robbed by two street performers in broad daylight. Sure, his data was backed up on cloud storage—But that wasn’t the point.

  That was his dad’s phone. The one he had kept all these years. The sentimental weight sunk like a rock in his gut. Gone. Ezra slumped back in his seat, staring bnkly out the window, his reflection looking like a man who had lost a part of his soul. Haru, now realizing just how bad this was, stayed completely silent.

  Ezra would feel like absolute shit for the rest of the week.