The Space Between Us
Copyright© 2025 by Megumi Kashuahara
Chapter 12
Parents’ Full Reaction, Family Processing
Finding Their New Normal Together
The first Monday back from spring break, Rin and Kiko walked into the dining hall for lunch holding hands.
It wasn’t a grand gesture. They didn’t announce anything or make a scene. They just walked in together the way they always had, except this time their fingers were laced together and they didn’t let go when they got in line for food.
Maya noticed first. Her eyes went wide, and she practically choked on her water.
“Um,” she said as Rin and Kiko sat down at their usual table. “Am I seeing things, or are you two holding hands?”
“You’re not seeing things,” Kiko said calmly, though Rin could feel the slight tremor in her hand.
“But you’re—you’re roommates. And stepsisters.” Maya looked between them, processing. “Wait. Are you together together?”
“We’re dating,” Rin confirmed. “Have been since winter break.”
Jordan, who’d just joined them, did a literal double-take. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Rin and I are in a relationship,” Kiko said. “We wanted to tell you all sooner, but we needed to figure some things out first.”
Sam, who’d been quiet up until now, just grinned. “I knew it.”
“You did not,” Maya said.
“I totally did. You two have been looking at each other like lovesick puppies since freshman year. I just figured you’d get around to admitting it eventually.”
Rin felt herself blush. “We weren’t that obvious.”
“You really were,” Sam said. “But also—wait, you’re stepsisters. Is that ... is that allowed?”
“We’re not related by blood,” Kiko explained, and Rin could hear her slipping into the explanation they’d practiced. “Our parents got married when we were teenagers, but that doesn’t make us actual siblings. We’re just two people who happen to have parents who are married to each other.”
“That’s...” Jordan paused, thinking. “Okay, that’s kind of weird, but also kind of romantic? Like a forbidden love story.”
“It’s definitely been complicated,” Rin admitted. “Which is why we kept it quiet for a while. We needed to figure out how to navigate it before we told people.”
“How did your parents react?” Maya asked. “Because that seems like it would be ... intense.”
“It was intense,” Kiko said. “But they’re coming around. We just spent spring break with them, actually. As an openly acknowledged couple.”
“And they were okay with it?”
“They’re trying to be,” Rin said. “It’s an adjustment for everyone. But they love us, and that’s what matters.”
The conversation continued—more questions, some awkward moments, but overall much better than Rin had feared. By the end of lunch, their friends seemed to have accepted it, even if they didn’t entirely understand it.
As they were leaving, Sam pulled them aside.
“For what it’s worth,” he said, “I think it’s cool that you two found each other. However it happened, whatever the circumstances—you’re happy together. That’s pretty rare.”
“Thanks, Sam,” Rin said, and meant it.
Word spread quickly after that. By the end of the week, most of their dorm seemed to know that the stepsisters in room 214 were actually dating. Some people were weird about it, whispering when they walked by. But most people were either supportive or indifferent, and Rin found she cared less about the judgment than she’d expected.
She had Kiko. She had her parents’ tentative acceptance. She had friends who supported them. Everything else was just noise.
Two weeks after they’d come out to their friends, Rin’s mother called.
“I wanted to check in,” she said. “See how things are going now that you’re being open about your relationship.”
“It’s going well,” Rin said. “Our friends have been great, mostly. There’s been some gossip, but nothing we can’t handle.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Her mother paused. “David and I have been talking more. About you and Kiko, about our family, about everything.”
“Okay.” Rin felt nervous suddenly. “What about it?”
“We realized we need to tell you something. Something we should have mentioned during spring break but weren’t ready to talk about yet.”
Rin put the call on speaker so Kiko could hear. “What is it?”
“David and I ... we suspected. Not that you were dating, necessarily, but that there was something between you two. Something more than just sisterly affection.”
Rin and Kiko looked at each other in shock.
“You suspected?” Rin asked.
“For a while now, actually. Since maybe your sophomore year of high school.” Her mother’s voice was thoughtful. “You were so close, but it was different from how siblings are usually close. You were ... devoted to each other in a way that felt like more.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Kiko asked.
“Because we weren’t sure. And because if we were wrong, bringing it up would have been awkward and potentially damaging. So we told ourselves we were imagining things. That you were just good friends, good stepsisters.”
David’s voice came through the phone now—he must have joined the call. “But looking back, the signs were there. The way you always chose each other over everyone else. How neither of you ever had serious relationships with other people. How you insisted on rooming together in college when most kids want independence from their family.”
“We feel like we failed you,” Rin’s mother said. “If we’d acknowledged what we were seeing, maybe you wouldn’t have had to hide for so long. Maybe you could have come to us earlier, felt safe telling us.”
Rin felt tears starting. “You didn’t fail us. We weren’t even being honest with ourselves for most of that time. How could we have told you something we didn’t understand ourselves?”
“Still,” David said, “I wish we’d made it clearer that you could come to us with anything. That we’d try to understand, even if it was complicated.”
“You’re understanding now,” Kiko said. “That’s what matters.”
They talked for a while longer—about the signs their parents had noticed, about moments Rin and Kiko hadn’t realized were obvious, about all the times their parents had exchanged meaningful glances when their daughters were being particularly devoted to each other.
“There was this one time,” Rin’s mother said, “junior year of high school. You both went to prom—separately, supposedly—but you spent the whole time together anyway. And when you came home, you were wearing each other’s corsages.”
Rin remembered that night. Remembered switching the flowers because Kiko’s had been wilting and Rin’s was still fresh. At the time it had seemed like a practical gesture between friends. Looking back, it had been romantic as hell.
“We were so oblivious,” Rin said.
“You were young,” her mother countered. “And navigating something complicated. We all were.”
After they hung up, Rin and Kiko sat in silence for a moment.
“They suspected,” Kiko finally said. “All this time, we thought we were hiding so well, and they suspected.”
“But they didn’t say anything. Didn’t try to interfere or separate us.”
“Because they trusted us to figure it out ourselves,” Kiko realized. “Even when they suspected something unconventional was happening, they trusted us.”
“They’re pretty great parents,” Rin said.
“Yeah. They really are.”
As the semester wound down, Rin and Kiko settled into their new normal. They were out to their friends, their parents knew and were trying to be supportive, and they could finally just be together without the constant weight of secrecy.
Finals came and went. Summer plans were made—they’d both be staying in town, Kiko doing an internship at a local gallery, Rin working as a research assistant for one of her professors. And yes, they’d be living together, though this time in an off-campus apartment instead of the dorms.
“Our first real place,” Kiko said as they toured a small one-bedroom near campus. “Not a dorm room, not our parents’ house. Our place.”
“One bedroom,” Rin noted, smiling. “No pretending we need separate spaces anymore.”
“Thank god. I’m so tired of separate beds.”
They signed the lease that day, giddy with the prospect of this next step.
The week before summer started, their parents drove up again—this time, they said, just to take them out for a celebratory end-of-freshman-year dinner.
They went to a nice restaurant in town, and over appetizers, David cleared his throat.