Does not have one, interrupted

The door opens abruptly. Your aunt enters first, her expression tight with worry and suspicion. Behind her come both of the girls fathers, both looking stern but confused, like men who were told there was a problem but not the full story.

The girls stiffen immediately, your aunt gestures sharply. “Sit. All three of you.”

Natalie, Ayano, and Katie obey without a word.

Natalie’s father clears his throat. “We’ve been informed there were… incidents. Bullying. Harassment. And”, he sighs, “apparently you girls have been playing with multiple boys behind our backs. And seems you have enflamed medical condition that has an effect on you three, you switched his medication. The effect actually will have effect on you, worse everyday.”

Ayano’s father shakes his head. “No… no. This not good. We teach you better. This stop now.”

The girls nod, eyes down, playing the part of chastened daughters. You know that there fathers believe that they look like angels who simply made a teenage mistake.

Your aunt, however, is not fooled. She steps forward, arms crossed. “I appreciate you both coming, but I’m not convinced we’re addressing the real issue.”

Natalie’s father rubs a hand over his face, the shame almost **** his voice. “I can’t believe they did this… my own daughter and her friends.” His eyes stay lowered for a moment, as if the humiliation physically weighs on him. “We’ll shut it down. All of it. The boys, the messages, the drama, it ends today.”

He forces himself to meet your aunt’s eyes, desperation flickering beneath the CEO polish. “If you keep this quiet… if you let me handle it internally… I can make sure your promotion moves through without obstacles.”

Your aunt’s voice sharpens, every word edged with frustration. “Respect is the bare minimum. My nephew has been pushed, cornered, and scared. And with the girls’ condition making them cling to him and unravel when they’re kept away, you know exactly what happens next — they lash out harder. You cannot pretend this isn’t escalating.”

The girls tense — just slightly — but enough for her to notice.

Natalie’s father’s expression hardens, all business now. “The doctor said the suppressant pill should steady whatever reaction they’ve been having around him. They don’t see him as someone to target anymore — they’ve shifted, become fixated, acting far too forward. That is the difference.”

He snaps his fingers once, sharp and unmistakable. The girls immediately step forward and bow their heads in **** apology, exactly on his cue.

Your aunt’s eyes narrow. “This isn’t hormones.”

The fathers exchange confused looks.

The girls exchange terrified ones.

She steps forward, voice steady and cutting. “Your daughters’ condition makes them cling to him and fall apart when they’re kept away. And you have proven that you are bullies.” Her tone hardens even further. “So no, I don’t want any of you in a ‘relationship’ with him. Not after the threats. Not after the way you’ve treated him. And certainly not while something this serious is happening.”

She draws a firm line. “If there are ever study sessions or supervised time together, they will happen in our homes at first, nowhere else.”

The men nod in agreement.

The girls freeze.

Ayano leans forward suddenly, hands clasped in her lap, voice soft but urgent.

“W‑We will be so close… we can make trip. Graduation trip,” she says, glancing at the others. “All of us. Him too. And you, Auntie. You come with. Supervised. Safe.”

Your aunt’s eyebrows shoot up. “A trip? Now? Absolutely not.”

Ayano bows her head slightly, pushing the act of sincerity harder. “Is good idea. We show we behave. No trouble. No bullying. No… anything.” She forces a small smile. “You watch us whole time.”

Natalie jumps in before your aunt can shut it down. “He can join us on a recruitment visit — like those big group trips. All‑a‑Malta, Stanford, those kinds.” Her voice softens. “We are deeply sorry. And you won’t deny us being near him… not if it’s supervised.”

Katie nods quickly, echoing the urgency.

Your aunt stiffens at the mention of Stanford — the school she always wanted for him, the one she could never afford. The hope flickers across her face before she can hide it.

Natalie’s father notices. He steps forward smoothly, voice polished and deliberate.

“If Stanford is truly his dream… we can arrange a special grant. Something tailored. Something that removes the financial barrier entirely.”

The room goes still.

Your aunt’s breath catches. She hates the pressure, hates the leverage — but she also knows what an opportunity like that would mean for him. Her jaw tightens, pride warring with fear.

Finally, slowly, she exhales.

“…Fine,” she says, the word heavy with ****. “I’ll allow it. But everything — every minute — is supervised. And it happens on our terms.”

The girls bow their heads in quick, relieved agreement..

The door clicks shut behind the adults, leaving you alone with the three of them.

The room feels smaller immediately.

They move almost at the same time, stepping in until they form a tight triangle around you. Ayano grabs one hand and Katie grabs other, you can feel there cold along your hands, Natalie starts massaging your head, they want to make sure that they hold power over you.

Natalie speaks first, her voice soft but steady. “Let’s start over,” she says. “You’re hurt. You’re going to need rehab. We can help with that. Keep you on schedule. Make sure you don’t push yourself too hard.”

Ayano picks it up without missing a beat, her tone gentle but focused.

“We stay close. We help you recover. We follow rules. We keep peace. No more chaos. No more mistakes.”

Katie steps in last, her voice wavering but determined.

“And we go over guidelines together. All of us. So nothing gets messed up again. We can support you through everything — the pain, the rehab, all of it.”

The three of them exchange a quick, silent look — unified, coordinated, unsettling.

Natalie’s smile sharpens just a little as she leans in. “And don’t worry about your aunt,” she says. “Aunts and mothers always end up liking us. I can already see her teaching us how to cook your favorite dishes. They always do.”

Ayano nods, eyes bright with certainty.

“She will talk to us. Tell stories. About her time at Stanford. About being athlete. We listen. We learn.”

Katie finishes, voice soft but confident.

“She’ll warm up to us fast. They always do.”

The three of them stand there, united, watching your reaction closely — as if they’ve already decided how this is going to go.

Your throat tightens. Their eyes are all on you — expectant, unblinking, too close.

You swallow hard.

“…w‑what… what are the guidelines…?”

The words come out smaller than you meant them to, thin and shaky, like you’re afraid of the answer even as you ask for it.