### Chapter 4: A Talk Between Father and Son

Hayama Hiroshi sat across from Yuuki at the dining table, the ambient sounds of the evening—the clinking of dishes, the distant hum of a television—fading into the background as he focused on the young man before him. The air was thick with unspoken tension, an atmosphere charged with worry and frustration. Yuuki picked absently at his food, his gaze flickering to the kitchen occasionally, as if searching for an escape.

“Yuuki, we need to talk about your grades,” Hayama began, his voice steady but gentle. The last thing he wanted was to come off as confrontational. He leaned forward slightly, trying to establish a connection, but Yuuki remained reticent, pushing his food around on the plate.

“They’re just grades, Dad. It’s not a big deal,” Yuuki replied, his tone dismissive, but Hayama could hear the undercurrent of defensiveness.

“It is a big deal. You’re barely passing, and the teachers are concerned about your behavior in class. I’ve received multiple complaints,” Hayama pressed, hoping to spark some reaction in his son. “I know you’re capable of so much more.”

With a sigh, Yuuki dropped his fork and finally met his father’s eyes. “You don’t understand. School is boring, and I don’t see the point in it. I have other things I want to do. Besides, I’m not going to need math when I take over the family business.”

“This isn’t just about the family business, Yuuki. It’s about your future—your life,” Hayama replied, frustration creeping into his voice. “Education opens doors. It’s not just about grades; it’s about learning skills, gaining knowledge, and growing as a person.”

Yuuki crossed his arms defensively, an expression of rebellion etching deeper lines onto his youthful face. “I just don’t want to be trapped in your world, Dad! You’ve got your plans, but I want to figure things out for myself. I’m not like you.”

Hayama’s heart sank at Yuuki’s words. He had spent so much time trying to guide him, but now it felt as though he were witnessing a chasm widening between them. “I’m not trying to trap you. I promise. I just want what’s best for you. I can’t help but worry when I see you drifting away like this.”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Yuuki said, his voice barely above a whisper now. “You’re always so busy with work and... other things. I’m just trying to have fun, to live life.”

“Fun is important, but so is responsibility,” Hayama countered, his own voice softening. “Look, I wanted to be a carefree kid too, but I had to grow up fast. My father… you don’t want to know how that turned out. I want to make sure you don’t have to go through that. It’s hard out there. I need you to meet me halfway.”

For a moment, silence enveloped them, punctuated only by the faint sounds of the world around them. Hayama’s gaze fell to his hands, fingers intertwined, as he tried to bridge the gap between the father he wanted to be and the son he wanted to understand.

Finally, Yuuki shifted in his seat, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features. “What if I mess up? What if I’m not as good as everyone thinks I am?”

Hayama felt a swell of empathy for his son’s vulnerability. “Then we’ll figure it out together,” he assured Yuuki, his voice filled with earnestness. “You have to trust me. I’ve been there—I’ve made mistakes, too. It’s part of growing up. But you have to want to change, to put in the effort. I can’t do it for you.”

“I just don’t want to be like you,” Yuuki snapped, but the fire behind his words was dimming, revealing a hint of the turmoil lingering beneath. 

“You’re not going to be like me. You’re your own person, Yuuki, and that’s a good thing. But you need to discover what that means—what you’re passionate about,” Hayama said earnestly. “Isn’t that what school is about? Exploring who you are and what you want?”

Yuuki’s mouth tightened in thought, and Hayama seized the moment. “I believe in you, Yuuki. You have so much potential… I just need you to believe in yourself, too.”

The weight of Hayama’s words hovered in the air as Yuuki’s gaze dropped to his plate once more, contemplative and silent. Hayama held his breath, hoping that this would be the turning point they both needed. Perhaps the conversation would create a spark, or maybe it would take more time. 

But as they sat there together, a father sorely wishing to connect with his son.