I’m More Perverted Than You!!!

The sun dipped lower over the quiet suburb,

casting a warm, golden hue across the

Thompson household—a modest yet charming two-story home.

Its brick exterior radiated a sense of sturdiness,

while the white marble floors inside

gleamed with a cool elegance beneath the fading light.

The house boasted three bedrooms,

two bathrooms, and a spacious living room

that had seen countless family memories. Now,

its rooms were cluttered with boxes, scattered across the soft,

gray carpet like forgotten remnants of the past.

Each box was filled with keepsakes, belongings,

and fragments of a life soon to be left behind,

marking the bittersweet close of an era.

"Where's Hunter?"

Mr. Thompson's voice echoed down the hallway as he balanced a box in his arms,

his silhouette barely visible through the doorway.

"He's in his room packing," Mrs. Thompson replied with a forced cheerfulness,

tailing her husband with her own box of books.

Mr. Thompson paused, setting his load down with a thud.

"I think you should check on him. He isn't too thrilled about this move."

"He'll be fine," she said dismissively,

her voice lacking the warmth usually reserved for family matters.

"Don't do that," Mr. Thompson countered, his tone firm.

"This isn't just about moving.

He's leaving behind his entire life here, including Jessica."

Mrs. Thompson let out a deep sigh,

crossing her arms over her chest.

"Roger, I get it, I really do. But growing up

means leaving things behind.

Do you remember when we got married?

I had to say goodbye to my mother when she moved away."

Roger paused, the weight of her words sinking in for a moment.

"That was hard for you. But this is tough for him too. 

Mrs. Thompson responds,

I just feel like he needs to toughen up a little," she said,

her tone resolute but not unkind.

Roger turned to face her fully,

his eyes narrowing slightly. "Stephany,

I understand what you're trying to say,

but this isn't just about growing up or being tough.

He's leaving his entire life behind.

And all of this was decided with almost no notice."

Roger softened, his voice dropping as he continued,

"It's not just about moving.

He's leaving behind his friends,

his routine—hell, even the girl he likes.

Do you think that's easy for him?

When your mom left, I was there for you.

I comforted you through it.

Just because he's a boy doesn't mean he's invincible.

He's not just a 'man.' He's our son.

Someone who isn't a troublemaker,

isn't causing problems for anyone—just

a good kid trying to figure all this out."

Stephany glanced down,

the sharp edges of her expression softening

into something more thoughtful.

"I get that, but as parents, this is something

we'll have to face again.

Life throws hard things at our kids,

and we can't always shield them.

He has to learn to adapt. But…" she hesitated,

her voice losing some of its firmness.

"I'll try. I'll talk to him.

Maybe I haven't given him enough credit

for how much he's dealing with."

Stephany handed her box she'd been holding

and gave it to him with a small smile.

"Just show him a little compassion.

Explain why we're moving.

That'll mean more to him than

anything else right now."

Stephany nodded as Roger takes the box from her.

"Alright, I'll try my best."

She turned to leave, but not before Roger teased with a smirk,

"You're so cute when you get all parental."

"Shut up," she muttered,

a half-smile betraying her

annoyance as her heels clicked against

the marble floor,

the sound fading as she walked down the hall.

Her figure was accentuated by her attire—light,

brown khakis hugging her curves,

high knee boots adding a touch of sophistication,

and a navy blue blouse that contrasted with her soft pale skin.

Her coffee brown hair swayed with each step,

carrying a scent of warm honey and tuberose.

In his mind, Roger thought, (Damn, were gonna have so many kids).

"Hunter!" Stephany called out,

her voice carrying through the hallway as

she neared his door. No response. She sighed,

then raised her voice. "Hunter, can you hear me?"

A faint shuffle sounded from the other side of the door,

followed by an audible groan. She knocked,

and there was a loud clatter—like someone scrambling

to hide evidence of something embarrassing.

"Yes!" Hunter's voice came,

muffled and slightly irritated.

"Can I come in? We need to talk,"

Stephany said, her tone shifting

from motherly impatience to concern.

There was a pause, just long enough

to make her wonder if he'd refuse,

before she heard the faint creak of his bed.

"Sure," he said at last, though his voice betrayed a

thin layer of annoyance beneath

the attempt to sound nonchalant.

Stephany opened the door to find his room in

complete disarray—clothes thrown haphazardly on the bed,

books half-packed into boxes.

The chaos matched the turmoil she

could see etched on his face.

She stepped inside carefully, her eyes scanning the mess

before landing on him. "Can we talk

for a moment?" she asked gently.

Hunter stopped moving, his hand hovering over a

box as he stared at its contents for a beat too long.

Why does she even want to talk now?

It's not like anything she says is going to change what's

happening. He took a deep breath,

his jaw tightening as he turned to her.

"Sure," he said curtly, gesturing vaguely

for her to continue.

Stephany hesitated, watching him with a

concerned expression. His shoulders were stiff,

his movements mechanical. She felt the weight of

his frustration radiating off him, and it made

her chest ache. "I can see you're upset about us moving,"

she began, her voice soft.

"But I want to know how you're really

feeling about the situation. Please, just talk to me."

Hunter froze. Her words hung in the air like bait,

and for a moment, he considered just brushing her off.

But then, something cracked inside him.

He clenched his fists and avoided her gaze,

his mind spinning.

"(Why now? Why does it have to be now, of all times?

I was finally going to tell Jessica how I felt.

My birthday's right around the corner.

Me and the guys had plans—plans that actually mattered to me.

I was looking forward to my first job.

My grades are finally picking up. All of it, gone,

because they decided to chase some corporate dream.)" - Hunter thought

He opened his mouth, ready to let it all pour out—but when he spoke,

his voice came out tight and controlled,

like he was trying to bottle up a storm.

"I… I get it," he started, his words slow and deliberate.

"You and Dad got a big opportunity.

A corporate position. That's great. It really is."

His voice cracked slightly,

betraying the irritation clawing at the edges of his tone.

"But I just hate that my life—everything I've worked on,

everything I care about—is being thrown aside because of it."

His words quickened, the cracks in his composure widening.

"Why should I have to leave behind my friends,

my plans, my—" He caught himself,

swallowing the rest of the sentence as his jaw clenched.

His gaze darted away, his frustration evident.

"I feel… powerless," he admitted quietly.

Stephany's heart sank as she watched him struggle to hold himself together.

His words, the crack in his voice—it all painted a

clear picture of how much he was hurting.

Her arms ached to reach out and pull him close,

to hold him the way she used to when

he was younger and scraped his knee.

But she hesitated, unsure if he'd let her.

Instead, she took a tentative step closer, her voice soft and steady.

"Hunter," she said, her tone filled with understanding,

"I had no idea you were feeling this way.

I know this move is hard on you.

And I can't pretend it's fair."

She reached out, resting a hand gently on his shoulder.

"But you're not powerless. You're brave and smart,

and I know you'll make the best of this—even if

it doesn't feel like it now. You'll find a way to

make it your own, just like you always do."

Hunter didn't respond at first. His lips pressed into a thin line,

but the tension in his shoulders loosened just slightly under her touch.

Stephany leaned in just enough to catch his eyes.

"If there's anything I can do to make this easier for you,

just tell me. Please."

For a moment, Hunter stood frozen, his inner conflict still raging.

Then, with a reluctant sigh, he nodded.

"I'll… think about it,"

he said quietly, his tone still guarded.

Stephany gave him a small smile,

her hand lingering on his shoulder.

Her expression softened even more as

she tilted her head slightly.

"But there's more to your story,

isn't there?" she asked,

her voice gentle but probing.

Hunter stiffened,

avoiding her gaze.

"You've had years to confess to her," she said,

her tone turning more direct,

no longer allowing him to dodge the conversation.

She straightened up, her stance firm.

"What about the Zombie Movie Event?"

Hunter blinked, visibly confused.

"Zombie Movie Event?"

Stephany folded her arms,

a look of certainty crossing her face.

"Give it up, Hunter.

I saw you.

With my own two eyes."

Hunter's eyes widened.

"What are you talking about?"

Stephany let out a heavy sigh.

"HUH?!" Hunter's face burned bright red,

his eyes wide with panic. "What, What did you see?"

(Did she see me touch her ass?)

"Just, know I saw you"

Stephany interrupted, her tone unwavering.

"And she wasn't pulling away, either.

Honestly, when I what you did, I thought the two of you were dating.

If that wasn't the case,

then that was your chance, Hunter.

Hunter's jaw tightened as he lowered his gaze,

embarrassment washing over him.

The weight of her words only deepened the

ache of regret he already felt.

Stephany clicked her tongue,

shaking her head with mock disappointment.

"Geez. Men these days. No balls."

"Yeah, yeah. Rub it in," Hunter mumbled,

still looking at the floor.

"Hey, I'm just saying," Stephany teased.

her tone softened lighting up the mood with a family banter.

"It's too late now," Hunter muttered under his breath.

"Saying something would just hurt more."

Stephany's expression brigtened

as she stepped closer to him.

"Then let's look forward," she said gently.

"There's good news about your new school."

Hunter glanced up, curiosity sparking in his eyes.

"What kind of news?"

Stephany smiled. "It's called Tokyo's Academy.

It's affordable, has dorms,

and you'll finally get to use your

Japanese-speaking skills and it's affordable."

Hunter arched an eyebrow.

"You said 'affordable' twice.

So what you're telling me is,

the only reason you picked this school

was because it's cheap?"

"Exactly," Stephany replied with zero hesitation,

her smile unwavering.

Hunter sighed, placing his hand on his forehead.

"You're too much like Dad. It's kind of scary."

Stephany nodded solemnly,

as if it were a badge of honor.

"Yes."

Shaking his head, Hunter muttered,

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that."

Stephany placed a hand on her hip,

shifting back to her more encouraging tone.

"It's an opportunity, Hunter.

Don't let all the Japanese training I gave you go to waste.

I taught you well, and I'd like to see you use it.

You'll grow from this experience, and who knows?

You might even like it."

She gestured toward the half-packed boxes.

"But for now, you need to finish packing.

We leave soon."

Hunter's shoulders slumped slightly, but he nodded.

"Understood," he replied, his voice flat.

As he turned back to his packing,

his mind raced with thoughts of what could have been,

uncertain futures,

and the strange new chapter about to begin.

With his belongings in hand,

he followed his mother through the hallway.

The two walked in silence,

the air heavy with the weight of Hunter's

emotions as they approached the front door.

Hunter, the protagonist of this tale,

stood tall at 16 years old,

his appearance strikingly similar to his father's.

He was lean but fit,

with brown hair that was always slightly messy and piercing

blue eyes that held both curiosity and frustration.

His sharp jawline and clean-cut features gave him a mature edge.

Today, he was dressed casually in a

dark blue hoodie over a plain white T-shirt,

paired with dark gray cargo pants and blue-and-white

sneakers—his go-to look that radiated

a mix of rebellion and comfort.

The moment he stepped outside,

the familiar faces of his childhood friends greeted him,

including Jessica,

whose presence made his heart race with a mix of dread and longing.

"Hunter, are you really leaving?!"

Jessica's voice was sharp with disbelief.

"That's low bro," Kelvin added,

his tone laced with betrayal.

"You should've at least told us.

We're your best friends,"

Kenny interjected, his voice carrying a hint of hurt.

"Exactly, do you think you're too cool for us now?"

Jessica challenged, her eyes searching Hunter's for answers.

Hunter responds in a joking manner.

"See, what you're not gonna to do is gang up on me."

"And what you're not going to do is disappear without a word to any of us

Mr.," Jessica countered with a playful yet stern look.

"Touché," Hunter conceded with a wry smile.

"Okay, everyone listen up," he began, trying to explain,

"I'm as shocked as you are. It all happened so fast."

"He had two days," Hunter's dad shouted from inside before dashing off,

leaving Hunter to deal with the fallout.

"WHAT?!" Hunter exclaimed, his face a mask of frustration.

"Man, I'm gonna kill that guy."

"We had plans, you know,"

Kenny said, reminding him of their upcoming birthday celebration.

"We were going to take you to the rave."

"Are you serious?" Hunter's voice mixed excitement with regret.

"I've been wanting to go for ages. That's a missed opportunity."

"Shii, I'll take your ticket then,"

Kelvin chimed in with a smirk. "I'll go with Kenny."

"To be fair, the tickets haven't come in yet," Kelvin added,

perhaps trying to soften the blow.

As the boys chatted, Jessica felt increasingly sidelined.

She planned her move, her eyes never leaving Hunter.

"Where are you moving to?"

Kenny asked, his tone casual,

though his raised eyebrow betrayed his curiosity.

"LA," Hunter replied,

shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets.

"Little Tokyo, to be exact."

Kenny tilted his head.

"Little Tokyo? What's up with that?"

Hunter let out a small sigh,

glancing to the side like he was trying to

find the words on the wall.

"My mom and dad decided it'd be easier

if we lived closer to their jobs.

A five-hour commute every day wasn't

exactly their idea of fun." He shrugged,

his tone growing more sarcastic.

"So it makes sense, I guess.

And here I am—a human sacrifice for the betterment of society."

Kenny blinked before breaking into a laugh.

"Man, you're so dramatic."

Hunter smirked.

Jessica, feeling increasingly side lined,

folded her arms and leaned back slightly,

feeling a surge of jelousy.

her eyes narrowing in thought.

(I here too, you know?) 

Jessica, not wanting to wait any longer speaks out.

"Hunter!" she called out, her voice cutting through the chatter.

"Can we talk in private for a moment?

I need to express myself," she said, her tone earnest.

"Who says 'express' like that?" Kenny chuckled.

"You know Jessica's a weirdo.

Go on, Hunter, we'll get your stuff,"

Kelvin encouraged, nudging Hunter towards Jessica.

"Um, okay," Hunter agreed, confusion evident in his voice.

Jessica took his hand, her touch gentle yet firm,

guiding him away from the group.

As they moved, Hunter was enveloped by the scent of her perfume,

noticing her soft hands, her brown knitted sweater and beanie,

and the delicate heart-shaped earrings.

"Okay, this should do," Jessica said, stopping in a secluded spot.

"What do you want to talk about?" Hunter asked, his nerves on edge.

"For starters, Hunter, you mean so much to me.

Finding out you're leaving really hurt," she began,

her voice cracking with emotion.

"Hunter, I didn't want you to leave… but even if you stayed,

I'd be moving soon too," Jessica confessed,

her voice trembling with unspoken emotions.

Her vulnerability was on full display,

and it was both captivating and heartbreaking.

Hunter froze, his chest tightening at her words.

(Why does this have to happen now?) he thought,

the weight of the moment crashing over him.

He looked at her,

searching for something—anything—that could make this easier.

But all he found was her raw,

honest expression that made his heart ache.

"Is that so," he managed to say,

though his voice wavered.

His feelings twisted and turned inside him,

creating a mess of longing and helplessness.

(Why does she look so beautiful right now?

Why does her pain make her even more stunning?)

Jessica pressed on, her hands clasped tightly in front of her.

"My dad said we're moving soon too,

but he won't tell me where.

He just said I'd be happier there."

Her voice cracked, and she lowered her gaze,

her emotions spilling out in every syllable.

"So either way, you'd be gone, and I don't want that.

It's not fair, but…" She hesitated,

gathering herself before continuing.

"I have something to get off my breast—"

Hunter blinked, the tension snapping like a rubber band.

A small chuckle escaped him, and then another.

Before long, he was laughing,

his voice echoing lightly in the air.

"You said breast," he pointed out,

a grin spreading across his face

as he tried not to laugh too hard.

Jessica's face turned red in an instant.

"I know! I'm trying something new,"

she shot back,

her pout only making her embarrassment more endearing.

"That's such a weird way to talk during a serious convo,"

Hunter teased, his laughter refusing to die down.

Jessica huffed,

though her lips quirked upward despite herself.

"It's not funny!" she protested,

her eyes sparkling with both frustration and amusement.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry,"

Hunter said, wiping the corner

of his eye as he tried to reign himself in.

Jessica took a deep breath,

trying to recapture the moment.

"Do you remember—"

But Hunter's laughter bubbled up again,

cutting her off mid-sentence.

"What now?" she demanded,

her cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of red.

"I thought you'd say it again,"

Hunter admitted, grinning like a fool.

Jessica groaned,

burying her face in her hands for a moment before glaring at him.

"You never take anything seriously,"

she said with an exasperated sigh.

But when her gaze met his, her tone softened.

"But I love that about you."

Hunter's grin faltered,

her words hitting him square in the chest.

His heart skipped a beat,

and for a moment, everything else faded away.

"Remember when we were kids,"

she began again, her voice soft now,

"and we said we'd date and marry each other?"

Hunter nodded slowly,

his tone matching hers.

"Yeah, but we were just kids."

Jessica smiled faintly,

her eyes filled with a mixture of hope and vulnerability.

"Does that make it any less true for you?"

Hunter swallowed, his throat dry.

"Not at all," he admitted,

his voice barely above a whisper.

Her gaze didn't waver,

and the sincerity in her tone made his chest tighten.

"Don't forget about me," she finished,

her voice steady despite the glimmer of tears in her eyes.

Hunter stared at her,

his emotions swirling uncontrollably. (Forget her?

How could I, after this?)

(After everything?) He took a deep breath,

knowing this moment would stay with him forever,

no matter what came next.

Hunter, consumed by an overwhelming tide of emotion,

drew Jessica into his arms with a mixture of tenderness and hunger.

His hands found her waist in an instinctual embrace,

then ventured lower,

cupping her backside with a possessive grasp that

spoke volumes of his desire. Jessica's smile was

like the first rays of dawn, illuminating their connection,

even as the specter of their imminent parting

cast a shadow over her heart.

The flush of intimacy painted her cheeks a

vibrant pink as she leaned into him,

her lips brushing against his cheek in a gesture so soft

it felt like a whisper of silk. Her body pressed against his,

a subtle invitation that was both innocent and loaded with intent.

But as she began to withdraw, Hunter,

driven by a primal need to hold onto this moment,

pulled her back with a force that was both gentle and unyielding.

His hands, now bold in their exploration,

returned to her waist, then ventured further,

gripping her ass with a fervor that made his intentions clear.

His mouth found hers, and the taste of sweet

mint on her lips was like a jolt of electricity,

igniting his senses.

The kiss was no mere meeting of lips; it was an erotic dance,

their tongues intertwining in a fervent exploration,

caution dissolving into the ether.

Jessica matched his ardor, her hands gliding over the contours

of his chest, feeling the pulse of his heart through

his shirt, her touch a silent consent to escalate their intimacy.

Hunter's hands were now everywhere – one tracing

the delicate curve of her waist while the other kneaded her ass,

pulling her closer until their bodies were one.

His lips left hers to travel down her neck,

each kiss a brand of passion, his breath hot against her skin,

sending waves of arousal through her.

His mouth found the sensitive hollow of her neck,

tasting her like a connoisseur savors the finest wine,

each kiss leaving a mark of desire.

Jessica's fingers tangled in his hair, urging him on,

her breath catching in her throat as

he explored her with a meticulous intensity.

She responded by tracing the hard lines of his shoulders,

her hands moving with a purpose, her touch both tender and teasing.

As Hunter's kisses roamed back to her lips,

his hands continued their voyage, caressing her through her clothes,

feeling the warmth of her body,

the rise and fall of her breath quickening under his touch.

Their connection was now a tapestry of erotic sensations,

each touch, each kiss a thread weaving a story of passion that

they would carry with them into the unknown.

The urgency of their situation only heightened the intensity,

every caress a testament to their longing,

every kiss an attempt to etch this moment into eternity,

even as the clock of their time

together continued its relentless march.

Their kisses deepened, a feverish exchange of lips and

tongues that carried an unspoken urgency.

The world around them seemed to fade away,

leaving only the warmth of their connection.

Hunter's hands rested gently on Jessica's waist,

pulling her closer, while her fingers weaved through his hair,

anchoring herself in the moment.

Their kisses grew deeper,

each one carrying an unspoken longing that neither

of them dared to put into words.

Jessica's hands clung to Hunter's shoulders as though

letting go would make him vanish.

Hunter's fingers rested firmly on her waist,

pulling her closer,

his heart pounding in rhythm with hers.

Jessica leaned in, her lips grazing his ear

as her breath hitched. She tried to steady herself,

her emotions spilling over. "I love yo—"

The words barely escaped her lips before Hunter looked

at her out of surprise making their

teeth collided, sending a sharp jolt through them both.

"Fuck, that hurt!" Hunter recoiled,

Turning away from her pressing a hand to his mouth.

Pain pulsed through his gums,

but it was nothing compared to the sudden thrum of

confusion racing through his mind.

(Did she just…? No, she couldn't have… right?)

Jessica froze, her lips parted as her face flushed bright red.

Embarrassment burned in her chest like wildfire.

(Oh no, did he hear me? What if he heard me?)

She let out a nervous giggle, trying to play it off.

"That hurt like hell," she admitted,

her jaw still aching but her thoughts

spinning faster than the pain.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Hunter replied,

his voice tight as he rubbed his gums.

He forced a grin, though his thoughts screamed otherwise.

(She said it. Didn't she? Or am I just imagining things?)

Jessica's heart pounded in her ears as she studied his

face for any sign that he'd heard her.

But his expression betrayed nothing—just a mix of

mild pain and that typical Hunter awkwardness.

(He didn't hear me… did he? Should I have said it louder?)

Trying to shake off his own swirling thoughts,

Hunter gave her a sheepish smile.

"Guess we need to work on our technique,"

he joked, his voice tinged with forced levity.

Jessica tilted her head, her lips curling into a mischievous

grin despite the storm in her chest.

"Oh yeah? How exactly do we practice that?"

Caught off guard by her teasing tone,

Hunter blinked before letting out a small laugh.

The tension in the air eased slightly,

but the unanswered question lingered in the back of his mind.

"Point taken. Maybe we just leave it to the professionals next time."

Jessica laughed softly,

her eyes meeting his for a fleeting moment.

But even as the laughter left her lips,

her mind raced. (Why didn't I just say it outright?

What's wrong with me?) She bit her lip,

her gaze dropping for a moment before speaking again.

"I think we should head back," she said quietly,

her voice laced with a sadness she couldn't quite hide.

Hunter caught the shift in her tone,

his chest tightening. He wanted to ask her about

what she'd said—or almost said—but the words wouldn't come.

Instead, he nodded, his hand squeezing hers gently.

"Yeah," he murmured. "Let's go."

They walked in silence, hand in hand, their earlier

connection now overshadowed by the weight of what went unsaid.

The cool evening air brushed against them,

but the warmth of their entwined fingers was a fragile comfort.

Jessica stole a glance at Hunter,

her stomach churning. (Even if he didn't hear me…

even if this is the last time we're together like this…

I'm glad I tried,) she thought,

squeezing his hand a little tighter as if

to anchor herself to the moment.

Hunter felt her grip tighten and glanced down at their joined hands.

His lips pressed into a thin line as his thoughts spiraled.

(She said it. Didn't she? But… why didn't she say it louder?

Why didn't I ask?)

Though the silence between them was heavy, it wasn't empty.

It was filled with all the things they couldn't say,

with feelings too big to put into words.

As they approached the house,

the last rays of the setting sun casting long shadows

across the ground, Hunter and Jessica both knew

that this moment—this fragile,

fleeting connection—would stay with them long after they parted ways.

Hunter stood at the edge of the driveway,

the weight of his new reality pressing heavily on his chest.

His belongings were piled outside,

a visual representation of the life he was about to leave behind.

The cool air carried the scent of cardboard and dust,

mingling with the bittersweet tension in his heart.

"Yo, we got everything packed up,

but you gotta help us load it into the Wuhaul truck,"

Kenny called out, his voice breaking Hunter's moment of reflection.

Hunter nodded, shaking himself free from his thoughts.

"Where's Kelvin?" he asked, glancing around.

"He's in the truck, organizing stuff,"

Kenny replied, balancing a box on his shoulder.

"So, what did you guys talk about?"

Kenny asked, his curiosity piqued as

he watched Hunter grab a box.

Hunter hesitated, his gaze lingering on the ground

before meeting Kenny's eyes.

"Well, Jessica finally confessed to me,"

he admitted, his voice tinged with a mixture of pride and regret.

"But… it feels bittersweet, you know?

Knowing I can't physically be with her."

Kenny let out a low whistle,

nodding as he placed the box inside the truck.

"That's tough, man. Untestable,"

he said, using his signature slang

as a way to comfort Hunter.

Hunter climbed into the truck bed,

passing a box to Kelvin. "Here you go,"

he called out, his movements automatic as his thoughts

drifted back to Jessica's words and

the weight of what could never be.

Box by box, they worked together,

the atmosphere lightened by the casual banter

of friends who knew they were running out of time.

When the last box was loaded,

Hunter stood by the open truck door,

looking at his friends with a mix of gratitude and sadness.

"Bye, everyone," he said,

his voice steady despite the lump forming in his throat.

"I'll try to visit if I can."

"You better visit me!" Jessica said,

her voice sharp but her expression soft.

"Same here," Kelvin added,

leaning out of the truck with a grin.

"I second that," Kenny chimed in,

giving Hunter a thumbs-up.

"I'll do my best. I love you all,"

Hunter said, his chest tightening as he forced a smile.

Jessica laughed softly, though her eyes glistened.

"We love you too, homie," Kenny replied.

"Now get in the truck before your mom gets mad."

Hunter chuckled, glancing toward his mom,

who was already seated in the moving truck,

looking over a map. "I just realized,"

Kenny said, his brow furrowing,

"your mom's gonna drive the truck behind you two?"

"It sure looks that way,"

Hunter replied, shaking his head with a smirk.

"Damn," Kenny said,

letting out an impressed whistle.

"Your mom is a strong woman."

Hunter laughed.

"You're telling me."

As he climbed into the passenger seat of the truck,

Hunter looked back at his friends one last time.

"Well, I'll catch you guys on the upside,"

he said, waving.

"Bye, everyone!"

the group called out in unison.

"Don't do any drugs!"

Kelvin shouted.

"Don't get arrested!"

Jessica added.

"And don't get yourself killed!"

Kenny finished with a grin.

As the truck rumbled to life and began to pull away,

Hunter leaned out of the window,

watching his friends grow smaller in the distance.

His heart ached, but he couldn't help but smile.

Their voices and laughter echoed in his mind, a bittersweet

reminder of the life he was

leaving behind—and the memories that would always stay with him.

Hunter sat in silence beside his dad,

his body tense and his gaze fixed on the horizon

outside the car window. The rumble of the engine

was the only sound, but inside, his thoughts were deafening.

A wave of sadness crashed over him,

pulling him under as tears welled in his eyes.

He bit his lip, trying to keep it together,

but it was no use. Silent tears slipped down his cheeks,

mourning not just his friends but the life he was leaving behind.

The memories hit him like a tidal wave,

one after the other.

Laughing with Kelvin and Kenny about the stupidest things.

Jessica's shy smile,

the way her voice softened when she said his name.

The way her hand had felt in his, warm and delicate,

as if it belonged there.

All of it was gone now, stripped away in an instant.

His thoughts turned cruel,

betraying him at every corner.

(You had her. You had her.

She confessed to you, and you

let her slip through your fingers.

You're a coward.)

He clenched his fists,

nails digging into his palms as the inner

voice taunted him relentlessly.

(You should have told her you loved her.

You should have kissed her longer, held her tighter.

You should have done everything—taken her on dates,

made her your girlfriend. You could have made her yours,

but you didn't. Why didn't you?)

His chest tightened, a lump rising in his throat.

The regrets multiplied, feeding on his despair.

(You could have taken her virginity before you left.

She wanted you, and you just stood there like an idiot.

You're weak. You're a loser. You don't deserve her.

You never did.)

Hunter pressed his forehead against the cool glass of the window,

trying to drown out the voice in his head.

But it kept going, louder and louder,

screaming at him with no mercy.

(You'll never have another chance.

You're leaving her behind,

and someone else will take your place.

Someone braver, someone stronger.

Someone who's not a pathetic coward like you.)

His hands trembled in his lap as

the tears fell harder.

His breath came in shallow,

uneven gasps.

Roger glanced over,

his brows furrowing as he noticed the

tears streaming down Hunter's face.

His son's shoulders were shaking slightly,

and it didn't take a genius to

see the storm raging inside him.

"Hunter," Roger began, his voice low and steady,

"I know you're sad right now.

I know it feels like the world's ending."

Hunter didn't respond,

his eyes still locked on the window,

but Roger pressed on.

"I know leaving your friends behind feels

like losing everything. Kelvin, Kenny, and Jessica—they

mean the world to you. I get that."

He paused, his tone softening.

"But you're not losing them, son.

They'll visit you. You'll visit them.

This isn't the end."

Hunter sniffled, his jaw tightening.

"It feels like the end," he muttered,

his voice cracking under

the weight of his emotions.

Roger reached over,

placing a firm but gentle hand on his son's shoulder.

"I know it does. Change is hard.

But you're not alone in this.

You've got me, your mom, and I promise

you'll see your friends again.

Trust me, they'll visit."

Hunter turned his head slightly,

his tear-filled eyes meeting his father's.

"But what if it's not the same?

What if… what if I lose them anyway?"

Roger smiled faintly, his grip on Hunter's

shoulder tightening just enough to be reassuring.

"You won't lose them. Friendship doesn't just vanish

because of distance. And trust me,

once you're in your new environment,

things will feel different.

You'll have distractions,

new opportunities, new people to meet."

"But I don't want new people,"

Hunter snapped, his voice rising

before he quickly looked away,

ashamed of his outburst.

"I get that," Roger said calmly.

"But give it time. Once you see them again,

you'll realize nothing has changed. You'll laugh, joke,

and pick up right where you left off.

You'll forget they were ever gone to begin with."

Hunter's shoulders sagged as his dad's words sank in.

The storm inside him didn't vanish,

but the clouds parted just enough for a

sliver of light to break through.

"Thanks, Dad," he murmured,

his voice hoarse but genuine.

Roger smiled warmly, giving Hunter's shoulder

a firm squeeze before returning his hand to the wheel.

His voice was steady,

a calming presence amidst the

turmoil swirling in Hunter's mind.

"That's what I'm here for,"

Roger said, his tone filled with quiet reassurance.

"Just hang in there, kid.

Things will get better—you'll see."

Hunter nodded, letting the words settle.

There was something grounding about his dad's confidence,

a sense that maybe, just maybe,

things really would be okay.

"And listen," Roger continued,

a faint grin tugging at the corners of his lips,

"don't let your conscience beat you down too hard.

Life's about making mistakes and learning from them.

You're still figuring things out, and that's okay.

Just don't let those mistakes define you."

Hunter tilted his head, his curiosity piqued.

"Yeah, I get that. Learn, adapt,

keep moving forward, right?"

Roger nodded approvingly, his grin widening.

"Exactly. And when it comes to girls—next

time you meet one you like, don't hold back.

Be more dominant.

Confidence goes a long way, son."

Hunter reached into his backpack,

pulled out a clipboard, and clicked a pen

with an exaggerated flourish.

Hunter said, jotting down notes

like he was attending a masterclass.

Roger burst into laughter,

the deep sound filling the car.

"You taking notes on me now?

What, am I some kind of dating guru to you?"

Hunter grinned, shrugging as he added another scribble.

"Hey, when the advice is good, you write it down.

Besides, you've been married to Mom for how long?

That's a track record worth paying attention to."

"It's only been 2 years"

Roger chuckled.

"Well, you've got a solid point,"

Hunter said, setting the clipboard aside.

Roger glanced at him, pride flickering in his eyes.

"Now that's what I like to hear.

You're gonna be fine, Hunter. Better than fine.

Just keep that attitude, and you'll go far."

Hunter leaned back in his seat,

a small smile playing on his lips.

His dad wasn't just a source of guidance;

he was cool in a way that made Hunter trust him completely.

This wasn't just a lecture—it was a moment of

understanding between father and son,

a bond that felt unshakable.

As the car rolled down the highway,

Hunter's earlier sadness didn't disappear entirely,

but it softened. With his dad by his side,

he felt ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

The wind blew softly through the open car window,

carrying with it the faint scent of something unfamiliar.

Hunter's eyes widened slightly as the car rolled to a

stop in front of their new home. They had finally arrived.

The neighborhood felt… different.

The air itself seemed to hum with a quieter rhythm,

a stark contrast to the life Hunter had left behind.

The buildings had an understated elegance,

with their unique architecture subtly showcasing their

Japanese influence—clean lines, sliding doors, tiled rooftops.

The streets were narrow yet orderly,

lined with cherry blossom trees that swayed gently in the breeze.

It was a far cry from the sprawling suburbs he once called home.

Hunter leaned back against his seat,

letting out a low sigh.

(Two hours.

Almost 3 whole hours of staring out a car window,

trying not to think about everything I'm leaving behind.

And now, I'm here—somewhere I don't belong.)

He stepped out of the car,

his sneakers crunching lightly against the gravel.

He stretched, feeling the ache in his muscles

from the long trip, before glancing around his new surroundings.

His new neighborhood seemed to be

located near an academia district, with several buildings

that looked like they belonged to schools or university campuses.

Groups of people passed by,

chatting in rapid Japanese that Hunter

only caught bits and pieces of.

(How the hell am I supposed to fit in here?)

he wondered, his eyes scanning the crowd.

The demographic was overwhelmingly Japanese,

and Hunter couldn't shake the feeling of being an outsider,

an odd piece in a perfectly crafted puzzle.

Just as his thoughts began to spiral,

something—or rather, someone—caught his eye.

A girl, standing a short distance away,

leaning casually against a fence.

Her short hair framed her face perfectly,

and she wore a hoodie that somehow managed to look

effortlessly stylish.

But that wasn't what grabbed Hunter's attention.

It was… other details.

"Wow, her breasts are huge,"

Hunter muttered to himself, barely realizing

the words had left his mouth. His gaze drifted lower.

"And look at those thighs.

Damn, this girl is built correctly."

For a moment, all the anxiety about fitting in,

the sadness about leaving his friends behind,

faded into the background. His mind wandered,

imagining himself sinking into the soft comfort of her—

"HUNTER!"

His mother's sharp voice yanked him out of his daydream.

Blinking rapidly, he turned toward the car,

where his parents were already hauling boxes from the trunk.

"Don't just stand there gawking!"

Stephany called, balancing a heavy

box in her arms as she made her way toward the house.

"Get started!"

Hunter groaned, reluctantly tearing his

gaze away from the girl.

(Great, day one and I'm already getting yelled at.)

As he grabbed a box from the car,

he couldn't help but steal one last glance in

the girl's direction. She hadn't moved,

but her eyes flicked toward him briefly before

she looked away, her expression unreadable.

Hopefully, she's in my school,

Hunter thought as he followed his parents into the house.

(She might be the only interesting thing about this place.)