Parallel Lives

"You're finally back, Hiro," Hiroto said with a mix of relief and concern as his son entered the house.

"I was just… out," Hiro mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

Hiroto's voice hardened. "Where exactly? What happened with that woman who took you?"

"She was kind, Dad. She brought me to her home," Hiro insisted.

"She said to take strangers to the police, yet she took you to her place? That's irresponsible!" Hiroto scowled.

Hiro tried to defend her. "No, Dad, she was good. It's just... she reminded me of Mom."

Hiroto's face softened for a moment, but then his expression hardened again. "We've talked about this, Hiro. Not now." He turned away, heading towards his room.

"Nanny, did you ever see my Mom?" Hiro asked, turning to the elderly woman who managed the household.

The woman shook her head gently. "No, young master. We don't know your mother, or what she looked like."

Hiro's eyes welled up. "But how am I here?"

The woman patted his hand. "We only know that one day, your father brought you here, holding you close. It was a rainy day, and he was soaked, but he kept you dry. You were tiny, and you didn't look much like your father, except for the hair color."

Hiro's gaze flickered to the door where his father had disappeared. "So I'm not Dad's son?"

The woman smiled softly. "No, young master. Your father never said you were adopted, or anything else. He always said you were his son, and that never changed." She winked. "Now come along, let's get you washed up before your father throws a fit."

The woman led Hiro away, leaving Hiroto alone with his thoughts. He picked up his phone, dialing a number.

"Any news?" he asked urgently.

"No sir, nothing at all. Is there a problem? Should I contact the media?"

Hiroto hesitated. "No, it's nothing. Forget it." He hung up, a frown etched on his face.

"Why no news articles?" Hiroto wondered. "It's been hours since she saw me with Hiro. She could have gone public by now. Why is she quiet?"

"No, she might be plotting something," Hiroto muttered, eyes narrowed. "Every media outlet is scrambling for the Anzai secret, and she holds it. She'll try to sell that news for a fortune. I have to be ahead of the game." He strode towards his room, where Hiro lay on the bed beside his own.

"Why aren't you asleep yet?" Hiroto asked, concern creasing his face.

Hiro mumbled, "Not sleepy."

"But you always fall asleep instantly. What's keeping you awake?" Hiroto prodded gently.

"Just... not tired," Hiro repeated, avoiding eye contact.

Hiroto sighed. "Are you still upset about what I said before?"

Hiro remained silent, rolling over to face the wall and clutching his teddy bear.

Hiroto ran a hand through his hair. "Hiro, listen. I understand your curiosity, your need to know. But dwelling on this isn't healthy. I can't bear to see you so troubled."

Hiro lay still, offering no response.

Hiroto felt a pang of guilt. "I shouldn't have spoken to you that way," he murmured.

"But I don't have the answers you seek," he whispered to himself, defeated.

"Young master, wake up!" the old woman's voice chimed, pulling Hiro from his restless sleep.

"Nanny, just five more minutes..." Hiro whined, burrowing deeper into his blankets.

"I hear you, young master," she chuckled. "But Master Anzai is waiting for you downstairs. Breakfast, then off to school. He'll drop you off himself."

The promise of Hiroto's company sparked a flicker of energy in Hiro. He let the nanny guide him through his morning routine, a quiet calm settling over him.

Downstairs, Hiroto sat at the breakfast table, a newspaper spread before him. He looked up as Hiro entered, a hint of surprise in his eyes.

"Hiro, you're running late today!" he commented, a playful edge to his voice.

"Sorry, Dad! Overslept," Hiro mumbled, taking his seat.

Hiroto chuckled. "That's what I get for telling you to sleep early last night. But you never listen, do you?"

The playful teasing fell flat, and the old woman spoke up. "Master, he's just a child. No need to raise your voice over such a small thing."

Hiroto sighed, realizing his mistake. "You're right, apologies. Finish your breakfast quickly, I'm waiting for you."

Hiro hesitated. "Actually, I can handle going on my own. You're late for work already. The driver can take me to school."

Hiroto raised an eyebrow. "I told you I'd drop you off."

"I wouldn't want to hold you up further, Dad. Besides, someone might see us together and… cause trouble." Hiro's voice dropped to a barely audible whisper, echoing the unspoken secret about his mother.

Hiroto studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Very well, as you wish." He stood, briefcase in hand. "Have a good day, Hiro."

"You too, Dad," Hiro mumbled, watching him leave.

Alone with the nanny, Hiro's face crumpled. "If he just told me about Mom, none of this would be happening. It's important, Nanny. And at school, when everyone asks about my parents… I can't even answer. It hurts."

The old woman gathered him close in a comforting hug. "Oh, young master," she murmured, her voice thick with sadness.

Hiro pulled away, wiping his eyes. "I'm finished with breakfast. Tell the driver to get the car, I'm leaving."

He walked towards the front door, his mind preoccupied with Akie. The boy's uncanny resemblance, the woman's confusion... a whirlwind of questions swirled in his head.

"Will I ever meet that boy again?" Hiro muttered under his breath.

The driver, waiting by the car, caught a glimpse of the question clouding Hiro's eyes. "Did you say something, young master?" he inquired.

Hiro shook his head, a secretive smile playing on his lips. "No, nothing at all. Let's go."

The car pulled away, carrying Hiro towards school and the mystery that awaited him.

The driver announced, "We've reached, young master."

Hiro stepped out, glancing around before his gaze snagged on a familiar figure approaching the school entrance. Akie. His breath hitched, a thrill rushing through him as he watched the boy draw closer.