His mother loved him.
His father was proud of him.
His little sister looked up to him.
And because of that, he wanted to make sure he never disappointed them.
He wanted to meet their expectations, to be everything they believed he could be.
He made sure to never slack off, to keep pushing forward. After all, with a father who was a renowned diplomat and a mother who was a successful doctor, how could anyone not expect him to reach the same heights?
They say a child is the best version of their parents.
And despite the weight of all that, he loved them deeply in return. He wanted nothing more than to make them proud, so he threw himself into every opportunity he could find.
Theater, basketball, football, music, art, science…
He became somewhat skilled at it all.
But it wasn't because he was some prodigious talent who effortlessly mastered everything. No, he worked hard—sometimes harder than anyone else—sacrificing sleep, sacrificing peace, sacrificing freedom.
Yet still, it felt like it wasn't enough. Beneath the awards, the praise, the accomplishments, he felt hollow. It was as if he was living a life scripted by someone else, putting on a mask to fit the image he thought his parents had for him. The more he achieved, the further he drifted from himself, and it wore him down, bit by bit.
After all, he was supposed to be the perfect son.
No fault, no weakness, no desire to quit. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't disappoint the parents who looked at him with such pride, with such high expectations. He couldn't let down his little sister, who idolized him.
He couldn't ruin their vision of perfection.
Nothing lasts forever.
Time moves forward, it changes everything, and one day, he just couldn't take it anymore.
He walked away from it all and, for a fleeting moment, felt something inside him breathe—a small, unfamiliar freedom. But it was only an illusion; he still hid the truth from his family, unable to find the courage or the right moment to say it.
And he was terrified.
He feared their reaction—disappointment, anger, sadness. He didn't want to shatter everything he had built for them, so he kept living behind a mask, though now it was a different mask. Fragile, and somehow worse than the last.
Then, one day, his mother found out. She got a call from one of his tutors, who informed her that he had quit ages ago.
Leo Karumi's lie was finally exposed.
"Tell me, Leo…how could you lie to us like that?"
Hearing his mother's question, Leo looked up at her with eyes that seemed to have already given up, resigned to whatever came next.
Seeing that look, Jeanne gritted her teeth, her voice tightening.
"Why are you looking at us like that? Answer me! Why have you been hiding the fact that you quit all your clubs for months? What have you even been doing, going out and telling us you were going to practice?"
Her voice grew louder, her face twisted in frustration, but Leo didn't look away. His expression was dull, defeated. He spoke quietly, his voice almost hollow.
"I went to hang out with my friends instead. I was just... tired. I wanted to have fun, like everyone else. I couldn't keep doing it. It was too much, and... I hated it. I hated every single bit of it. It's not like I was some kind of genius in any of it anyway... There was no point in continuing. I was just wasting my time."
The calm, matter-of-fact way he explained himself only seemed to infuriate Jeanne more. Ronald glanced between the two of them, troubled, but unable to find the words to step in.
Jeanne's face flushed with anger, her voice breaking into a shout.
"You can't just quit because you don't like it, Leo! If you can't see it, I can—it's for your own good, for your future! Instead of hiding and lying to us, you should've told me! I would have helped you, helped you get better!"
"And I'm telling you, I don't want that!" he shouted back, his voice ringing through the silence that suddenly fell.
Jeanne and Ronald stared at him, wide-eyed. Leo, always calm, always obedient, now stood there, his face twisted with anger, his eyes red and blazing. He glared at his mother.
"Don't you get it? I don't want to get better. I don't want to be in a club, or think about my future, or spend every moment pleasing you! I just want to live my life—just once, I want to enjoy it, without having to lie about where I am or what I'm doing! Why is it so hard for you to understand? I'm tired of all of it!"
Jeanne couldn't remember a single moment when he had ever raised his voice at them . He was always smiling, always kind, always perfect, doing everything he could to avoid conflict. To hear him now, to see the rage in his face, was almost unbelievable. She stared, her voice dropping to a low, trembling note.
"This... this isn't you. Why are you acting all of a sudden?"
Her voice trailed off, her eyes widening as a thought struck her.
"It's... it's that Nathan and the others, isn't it? I knew they were a bad influence, dragging you down, holding you back."
Leo's face shifted, his expression turning from anger to shock and then darkening as he spoke, his voice now low and cold.
"Why is it so hard for you to believe me?" he asked, his words sharp and deliberate.
"Why? Why can't you listen to me for once, like I've always listened to you?"
Her eyes narrowed, her tone cooling.
"Because right now, you're not seeing clearly. I'm your mother. I know what's best for you, even if you can't see it. But it doesn't matter. You'll rejoin those clubs, and one day you'll thank me for not letting you throw away your dream."
"Dream? Are we talking about mine, or yours? Are you sure you're the one seeing clearly? Or maybe you're just not listening, because nothing I say seems to get through to you."
The air between them grew even heavier, the tension sharp and bitter. Jeanne's expression shifted, her face cold and unyielding.
"Careful what you say, Leo. I'm your mother. As punishment, you'll be staying home tonight instead of coming with us. Think about your actions and your future carefully. Don't make this worse."
At her words, Leo's expression fell. A bitter, helpless smile flickered across his face. He spoke, his voice barely a whisper.
Hearing this, Jeanne's anger softened slightly, her expression almost hopeful, thinking he was coming to his senses. But then he continued.
"You're right. I must have been blind... ever trying not to disappoint you."
Her small smile vanished, replaced with a cold, stony look as his words hit her. Before she could respond, a stern voice broke through the tension, making them both flinch slightly.
"That's enough, Leo."
He looked up to see his father watching him with a stern expression. Leo bit his lip, his father's gaze heavy on him, disappointed. Ronald then turned to Jeanne, his tone softening.
"You as well, dear. Let's all take some time to cool off. The nanny's waiting outside with Lia. Let's go."
Jeanne looked between Leo and Ronald, then sighed and nodded, casting one last glance at Leo before walking away. Without another word, she and Ronald left, neither of them meeting his eyes as they closed the door behind them.
Leo stared at the door, his head bowed, his expression empty.
He didn't realize it would be the last time he'd ever see them.
Instead, his last memory of them was this—his father, disappointed, and his mother…