Standing outside the imposing front door of the Yamato residence, I felt a wave of déjà vu. It was the same feeling of stepping onto a stage, like the first time I walked into the cafeteria with Sakura, or the moment before our presentation. But this stage felt infinitely bigger, the audience far more critical, and the stakes much, much higher. This wasn't just about saving a club; it was about being accepted into Sakura's world.
I took a deep, shaky breath and pressed the doorbell.
The door opened almost immediately. Standing there was Sakura-san, looking even more radiant than usual in a simple, elegant dress that wasn't a uniform. Her smile was wide and welcoming, but I saw the hint of nervousness in her eyes that mirrored my own.
"Hiroshi-kun!" she said, her voice warm, using my first name naturally. "You're here! Come in!"
Her familiar voice and welcoming smile were a small anchor in the sea of my anxiety. I managed a nervous smile back. "Hi, Sakura. Yamato-san. Uh... I brought some tea for your mother." I held out the bag stiffly.
"Oh, thank you, Hiroshi! That's so thoughtful!" She took the bag, her fingers brushing mine briefly, sending a jolt up my arm. "Come in, come in. Everyone's in the living room."
I stepped inside. The house was beautiful, spacious, and exuded an air of quiet sophistication. It smelled faintly of incense and something floral. It was very clearly not my small, cluttered apartment.
Sakura led me through a pristine hallway into a large, traditional-style living room. And there they were.
Sitting on cushions around a low table were two people. Sakura's parents, I presumed.
Sakura's mother was a woman with a gentle smile and kind eyes that seemed to take in everything. She looked as elegant and composed as Sakura often did.
Sakura's father was... different. He was a man with a serious, almost stern expression, his gaze direct and assessing. He didn't smile immediately. He simply looked at me, head slightly tilted, like he was evaluating a complex problem. This was the father with the high expectations. The one who embodied the pressure Sakura carried.
My heart hammered against my ribs. This was even more intimidating than Akane-san.
"Mother, Father," Sakura said, her voice poised, yet I could hear a slight tremor in it. "This is Tanaka Hiroshi-kun." She then turned to me. "Hiroshi-kun, this is my mother, Yamato Emiko, and my father, Yamato Kenjiro."
Kenjiro. The same name as my best friend, but the aura couldn't be more different.
"Good evening, Mr. Yamato, Mrs. Yamato," I said, bowing deeply, trying to remember all my practiced polite phrases. "Thank you for inviting me into your home."
Sakura's mother smiled warmly. "Please, no need to be so formal, Tanaka-kun. Welcome to our home. Sakura has told us so much about you... and the club, of course."
Her father, Mr. Yamato, didn't return the warmth immediately. He simply nodded, his gaze still assessing. "Tanaka-kun. Please, sit down."
I carefully sat on the cushion Sakura gestured towards, trying not to look awkward. Sakura sat beside me, her presence a small comfort.
The conversation began politely. Sakura's mother asked about my family, my school subjects, my hobbies (specifically mentioning my interest in classic literature and film, thankfully). She had a way of making me feel comfortable, asking open-ended questions and listening attentively.
Mr. Yamato, however, remained mostly silent, observing. When he did speak, his questions were more direct, more probing.
"Sakura tells me you were instrumental in saving the Classic Literature & Film Society, Tanaka-kun," he said, his voice deep and measured. "A club founded by her grandmother. It holds significant sentimental value for our family."
"Yes, sir," I replied, trying to sound confident and respectful. "Sakura's dedication to the club was inspiring. The contest project was a team effort, but her leadership made it possible." I made sure to credit Sakura, knowing how much this meant to her family.
He nodded again, his gaze unwavering. "Indeed. Sakura has always been... driven. She sets high standards for herself. And for those around her."
Was that a subtle warning? A test?
"Sakura mentioned your project focused on 'unexpected love'," Mr. Yamato continued, his eyes holding a flicker of something I couldn't quite decipher. "An interesting theme. Given the circumstances."
That phrase again. "Given the circumstances." Both Akane-san and now her father had used it. It referred to the obvious contrast between Sakura and me, and the unusual way our relationship began.
My face felt warm. How much did he know? Had Sakura told them the whole fake dating story? Or just that we started dating unexpectedly because of the club project?
"Uh, yes, sir," I stammered. "The theme fit the classic stories we studied. And... and sometimes... life has unexpected things too." I managed a small, awkward smile, hoping he wouldn't probe further into the "unexpected things" in our own lives.
Mr. Yamato held my gaze for a moment longer, then finally, a very faint, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, but it was there.
"Indeed, Tanaka-kun," he said. "Life often presents us with the unexpected. It is how we handle those moments that matters."
He then shifted the conversation to the technical aspects of the club project, asking about the funding and the plans for the future. It was easier to talk about the club. I spoke about our ideas for film screenings, discussion groups, and potential collaborations with other clubs. I made sure to emphasize the historical and cultural value of the club, trying to sound knowledgeable and passionate.
Sakura joined in, talking enthusiastically about the club's future, her earlier nervousness seeming to fade as she talked about something she genuinely cared about. Seeing her father listen to her, his expression less stern now, was a small victory.
Dinner was served. The food was exquisite, unlike anything I usually ate. I tried to eat politely, manage my chopsticks gracefully, and not spill anything (Kenji's Rule #1 echoing in my head). The conversation flowed more easily during the meal, covering various topics – school events, current news, even a brief, careful discussion about future plans (university, fields of study).
Mr. Yamato asked about my university aspirations. I gave my honest, somewhat vague answer about being interested in fields related to literature or maybe teaching, mentioning that I hadn't finalized my plans yet. It felt inadequate compared to the implied "Todai" standard hanging in the air.
He simply nodded, his expression returning to that assessing look. "The path after high school is an important decision, Tanaka-kun. One that requires careful consideration and dedication."
His words weren't harsh, but they carried weight. They were directed at me, but I knew they were also a reflection of the expectations placed on Sakura, and now, indirectly, on anyone associated with her.
The conversation continued, a mix of polite small talk and pointed questions. Sakura's mother was kind and welcoming throughout. Mr. Yamato remained observant, his approval or disapproval carefully masked.
As the evening drew to a close, a servant brought out tea. The green tea I had brought as a gift was served. Sakura's mother smiled at me as she took a sip.
Standing up to leave, I bowed again to Mr. and Mrs. Yamato. "Thank you again for your kind hospitality. The dinner was wonderful."
"Thank you for coming, Tanaka-kun," Mrs. Yamato said warmly. "It was a pleasure meeting you."
Mr. Yamato nodded. "Thank you, Tanaka-kun. It was... interesting... meeting you."
"Interesting." The word hung in the air. Was that a good interesting, or a bad interesting? His expression gave nothing away.
Sakura walked me to the door. Once out of earshot of her parents, her composed facade dropped slightly. She looked at me, her eyes searching.
"How... how was it, Hiroshi?" she asked, her voice low and anxious.
I paused, thinking. It wasn't a disaster. I didn't spill anything. I managed to talk about the club and answer their questions. But it was intense. Her father was definitely... assessing.
"It was... intense," I admitted honestly. "Your father... he's... serious."
Sakura sighed, a sound of both relief and weariness. "Yeah. He can be. Especially about things that are important to the family. How do you think it went?"
I looked back at the imposing house, then at Sakura, standing there looking anxious. "I don't know, Sakura. I really don't know. He said it was... 'interesting' meeting me."
Sakura paused, processing his word. Then, a small, genuine smile touched her lips. "Interesting," she repeated softly. "With my father... 'interesting' is sometimes... a good sign. It means he was thinking. Not immediately dismissing."
That made me feel slightly better. "Really?"
"Really," she confirmed, squeezing my hand briefly. "You did well, Hiroshi. You were yourself. You were polite. You talked about the club with passion. And you weren't scared away."
Her praise, her belief in me, meant everything.
"Thanks for inviting me, Sakura," I said, squeezing her hand back. "It was... a lot. But... I'm glad I met them. Met your world."
She smiled, a soft, beautiful smile that chased away the tension of the evening. "Me too, Hiroshi-kun. Me too."
We stood there for a moment longer, holding hands under the glow of the streetlights, the quiet weight of the evening settling between us. I had taken a step into her world, faced the source of her pressures, and survived. The assessment wasn't over, her father's true thoughts were still unknown, but I had shown up. And Sakura believed I had done well.
It was a terrifying step, but doing it with her, for her, felt like the most real thing we had done yet. The journey into her world, and what it would mean for our real relationship, had just begun.