A week. A full seven days since the robot rumble in National City. Haruka sat on his bed, the plush comforter doing little to cushion the brick wall he'd run into—his future.
He glanced around his room, the familiar posters of Kamen Riders doing little to spark inspiration. College applications sat in a neat stack on his desk, mocking his lack of direction. He was eighteen, supposed to be on the cusp of adulthood, ready to launch into his destiny. Except, his destiny seemed to be pre-determined, gift-wrapped, and handed to him on a silver platter. Kojima Hotels.
Seriously?
His dad owned the whole damn franchise. Hana and Matsu, bless their hearts, made no secret of the fact that the whole empire would one day be his. A comfortable, luxurious, gilded cage. The thought should have been appealing. Security, stability, a life of ease.
Except, it felt… wrong.
Was this really what I wanted to do?
He had zero interest in hospitality, in spreadsheets, in managing staff, or schmoozing with investors. The thought of spending his life in boardrooms made his skin crawl. But what else was there? He had no burning passions, no hidden talents waiting to be unearthed. His life revolved around two things: patrolling National City, cracking skulls as Kamen Rider, or training to be better at it.
Training? Patrolling? Does that count as a hobby?
He knew how to throw a punch that could shatter concrete. He knew how to somersault over speeding cars. He could identify a mugger at fifty paces. None of that translated into a viable career, unless he wanted to join the NCPD.
He sighed, running a hand through his messy black hair. Maybe he was overthinking it. Maybe he should just accept his fate, slip into the tailored suit, and learn the ropes. At least he wouldn't have to worry about money.
He sat up straighter. His parents.
It would kill them if I turned my back on the whole thing.
His parents have given him everything. Love, support, a ridiculously opulent room with a view of the city. They didn't ask for much in return, just that he be happy. And maybe, deep down, they wanted him to carry on the family legacy.
Can't blame them for that.
Besides, it wasn't like he'd be chained to a desk twenty-four-seven. He could delegate, hire competent people to handle the day-to-day grind. That's what Matsu did, after all. He could carve out time for patrols, for training, for saving the city.
He could even use his resources to make a real difference. Kojima Hotels had locations all over the world. He could fund programs, support local communities, fight crime from the inside.
It's a start, I guess.
He could call it lazy, or maybe just pragmatic. Why struggle to build something from scratch when he already had a solid foundation? Why fight against the current when he could ride the wave and still find time to do what mattered?
He'd give it a shot. He'd learn the business, make his parents proud, and still kick ass as Kamen Rider. Balance, right? That's what being a hero was all about. Or at least, that's what he was telling himself.
…
Hana hums a familiar tune as she kneads the dough, a comforting rhythm in the bustling kitchen. Today, she's teaching Megan how to make dango, little Japanese dumplings, a task she hopes will be a pleasant distraction from… everything.
"Auntie Hana," Megan begins, her voice gentle. "Are you sure I'm doing this right?" She holds up a lumpy, misshapen ball of dough, a sheepish grin on her face.
Hana chuckles, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Almost, dear. Here, let me show you." She takes Megan's hands, guiding them through the motions of gently rolling the dough into perfect, smooth spheres. "Like this. Gentle, but firm."
Megan concentrates, her brow furrowed in determination. She carefully molds another dumpling, this one far better than the last. "Oh! I think I'm getting the hang of it," she says with a beaming smile.
She's such a sweet girl, Hana thinks, watching Megan. Just like Haruka.
"That's it!" Hana exclaims, beaming back. "You learn quickly, Megan. Soon, you'll be better at this than me!"
Megan giggles, a light, airy sound that fills the kitchen. "I doubt that, Auntie," she says, playfully nudging Hana's arm. "But I'll try my best!"
They work side-by-side, a comfortable silence settling between them as they shape the dumplings. Hana finds herself enjoying Megan's company immensely. She has such a warmth and openness about her that reminds Hana of her own family back in Japan.
"Auntie," Megan asks, breaking the quiet, "Haruka seems… distracted lately. Is everything alright?"
Hana sighs softly. "He's just got a lot on his mind, dear. College applications, his internship, and… other things." She glances at Megan, hesitating for a moment. "He's a good boy, Megan. But he carries the world on his shoulders sometimes."
Megan nods thoughtfully, her gaze distant. Hana wonders what she is thinking. What she knows.
"He will be alright, Auntie," Megan says, her voice sincere. "He has you as his mother after all," she adds with a warm smile.
Hana's heart swells with affection. "Oh, Megan," she says, reaching out to gently squeeze Megan's hand. "You're like a daughter to me. You know that, right?"
Megan's green eyes sparkle. "I feel like that too, Auntie."
The shrill ring of the doorbell cuts through the quiet hum of the kitchen, startling Hana slightly. She wipes her hands on her apron and glances at Megan, who is still meticulously shaping her dango.
"Must be the package I ordered," Hana says, a touch of excitement in her voice. "Why don't you finish up here, dear? I'll get the door."
Megan nods, her brow furrowed in concentration. Hana smiles and exits the kitchen, heading towards the front of the house. As she approaches the door, she smooths down her cardigan, a nervous habit she can't seem to shake. Who could it be? she wonders. Haruka hadn't mentioned expecting anyone.
She reaches the door and takes a deep breath before opening it. Her eyes widen in surprise at the sight that greets her.
Standing on the porch is a woman who could easily grace the cover of a magazine. She's wearing a stunning designer dress, a vibrant emerald green that accentuates her figure and makes her red hair seem to glow. The dress is tasteful yet undeniably alluring, the kind that turns heads and whispers "expensive." Hana can't help but admire her impeccable style.
Behind the striking woman stand two equally imposing figures, a man and a woman, both with an air of quiet strength and unwavering loyalty. They seem to be acting as her bodyguards, their gazes sharp and alert.
"Good afternoon," Hana says, a polite smile gracing her lips. "May I help you?"
The woman in green returns her smile, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "Yes, hello. I'm Hila. I'm here to see Haruka."
Hana raises an eyebrow, a mixture of surprise and curiosity bubbling within her. "Haruka? And you are…?"
"A friend," Hila replies, her voice melodic and confident. "We've been out of touch for a while. I thought I'd surprise him."
Hana's surprise deepens. A friend? And such a beautiful, elegant one at that! Why hasn't Haruka mentioned her before? she wonders.
"Well, it's lovely to meet you, Hila," Hana says, extending a hand. "I'm Hana, Haruka's mother."
Hila takes her hand, her grip firm and friendly. "It's a pleasure to meet you too, Hana." She gestures to the two figures behind her. "And these are my… associates, Tula and Kaldur."
Tula and Kaldur offer polite nods, their expressions reserved but respectful. Hana smiles warmly at them, appreciating their quiet demeanor.
"Please, come in, come in," Hana says, stepping aside to allow them entrance. "Haruka will be thrilled to see you. Especially such a beautiful woman like yourself," Hana thought to herself. Her eyes twinkled with the anticipation of a mother eager to see her son happy.
As Hila, Tula, and Kaldur step inside, Hana can't help but wonder about their connection to Haruka. Is this a girlfriend? she muses, a hopeful flutter in her chest. He never brings anyone over.
"Please, make yourselves comfortable," Hana says, gesturing towards the living room. "I'll go get Haruka. He's probably upstairs studying."
She glances at Hila, a playful glint in her eyes. "He's been so focused on school lately. A visit from a friend is exactly what he needs." She thought to herself, "I wonder why he didn't mention her before? I could always use a friend."
With a final smile, Hana turns and heads towards the stairs, calling out, "Haruka! You have a friend here to see you!"
A very special friend, she thinks with a knowing smile. I can't wait to see his face.
Hana approaches Haruka's door, her footsteps light and eager on the carpeted hallway. She raises a hand and knocks gently, a soft tap-tap-tap that barely disturbs the quiet hum of the house.
"Haruka, dear?" she calls out, her voice gentle. "There's someone here to see you."
A moment of silence hangs in the air, and then she hears the muffled sound of movement from within the room. "Mom? What's going on?" Haruka's voice is groggy, tinged with confusion.
Hana smiles, pressing her ear closer to the door. "You have a friend waiting for you downstairs, sweetie. She's been waiting for quite a while."
"A friend?" She hears the bed creak as he gets up. "Who is it?"
Hana chuckles, deciding to keep the surprise a little longer. "Just come down and see for yourself. I think you'll be happy to see her." She straightens her cardigan, her excitement growing with each passing second. "She's in the living room. Don't keep her waiting, dear."
She steps back from the door, giving him space to emerge. As the door creaks open, she sees Haruka, his hair tousled and his eyes still heavy with sleep. He looks utterly bewildered.
"A friend?" he repeats, his brow furrowed.
Hana nods, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Yes. A very lovely friend. Now go on, say hello." She gives him a gentle push towards the stairs.
Haruka hesitates for a moment, then starts down the stairs. Hana watches him go, a smile playing on her lips. She's never seen him look so… off-balance. She can't wait to see his reaction.
She peeks over the railing, just in time to see Haruka step into the living room. His eyes widen, and his jaw drops slightly. Oh, this is going to be good, Hana thinks, her heart fluttering with anticipation.
"Hila?" Haruka says, his voice laced with surprise.
Hila smiles, her eyes sparkling. "Nice to see you again, Haruka."
Oh my, Hana thinks, her eyes widening. There's definitely something between those two. She could feel it in her bones - a spark, an unspoken connection, a hint of something… more. And she, Hana Kojima, was absolutely living for the drama.
///
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