RESTAURANT
Misaki sat across from her father, dinner untouched between them.
It had been a long time since they had shared a meal like this—just the two of them, seated in peace, with no duties, no interruptions, no formalities. To Akeshi, it felt like old times. Like the father-daughter evenings they used to have when Misaki was little.
That was why he had been emotional from the moment her call came through.
What he did not know was that Misaki had not invited him there for comfort alone. Something heavy had lodged itself in her throat, and if she held it in any longer, she felt it might kill her.
She needed to tell someone.
Someone she trusted.
And tonight, her father was the only person she could think of.
"Dad," she said gently, "this isn't going to be the father-daughter dinner you imagined."
Akeshi's smile faded at once.
"Why?" he asked. "Do you have something to say? Did I disappoint you again?"
