On the other side of the city, Akira rose from a fitful, restless sleep, her mind still tethered to the lingering shadows of the previous night. Drawn by an instinct she couldn't name, she wandered into the lobby of the White Frost apartments. Before she could stop herself, her feet had carried her to apartment 44. The door stood silent, radiating an emptiness that felt like a physical weight against her chest. Despite the stillness, she pressed the doorbell, a desperate, irrational hope that Naea might just be inside. Silence was her only answer. As she stood there, caught in the grip of uncertainty, the building manager rounded the corner and paused, bowing slightly. "Good morning, Prosecutor Akira," he said, his tone polite but distant. Akira offered no reaction, her focus entirely fixed on the closed door.
The manager stepped forward and slid a key into the lock of apartment 44. Akira's brows knit together, her voice sharpening with professional authority. "You can't just enter a resident's apartment like that. That's a direct violation of the White Frost safety protocols." The manager merely offered a thin, apologetic smile. "I assure you, I am not breaking any rules, Prosecutor. I'm simply checking if any belongings were left behind, as per Master Kenji's instructions." Akira felt a jolt of alarm, though she carefully masked it behind a stoic expression. "What do you mean, 'checking'?" she asked, her voice dangerously quiet. "Master Kenji had Dr. Naea's belongings packed and shifted out yesterday," the man replied smoothly. Akira's heart hammered against her ribs. "Where were they moved to?"
"Master Kenji explicitly ordered that the destination be kept confidential," the manager replied, bowing again before turning away. Akira's blood boiled. "Does Dr. Naea even know about this?" she demanded, but the manager only offered a vague shrug before retreating. Left with nothing but the chilling finality of an empty room, Akira returned to her own apartment. She moved through the motions of the morning with a mechanical, brittle precision—freshening up, preparing a simple breakfast, and leaving a portion for Macau—before grabbing her car keys. As she descended to the parking lot and slipped into the driver's seat, the engine roared to life. She pulled out onto the road, the city streets blurring past her window. She had no destination, no map, and no plan; she was simply drifting, driven by a frantic, gnawing need to find the woman who had vanished from her world overnight.
When Naea finally opened her eyes, the room was bathed in the bright, unfiltered light of a 10:00 AM sun. The space beside her was empty—Yumi and little Sui were already gone. A jolt of urgency surged through her as she realized the hour, and she scrambled out of bed, heading straight for the main living area. The household was already in motion; his grandmother sat in her usual chair engaged in a quiet conversation with Kenji, while Yumi was busy at the dining table, tending to Shuzo and Sui's breakfast. As Naea entered, Kenji's gaze locked onto her. "Good morning, Naea," he called out, his voice smooth and overly composed. Naea offered a brief, clipped "Morning" to the room at large, pointedly avoiding his eyes, a reaction that clearly rankled him.
Determined to exert his control, Kenji turned to her, his tone dripping with forced helpfulness. "I took the liberty of having your belongings shifted here yesterday," he announced, loud enough for the entire family to hear. "I even had the staff set up your room since you were already asleep in Yumi's quarters when the movers finished." Naea felt a hot flare of indignation tighten her chest. The audacity of his actions, performed under the guise of care, made her skin crawl, but the presence of the grandmother kept her sharpest retorts in check. "There was no need for that," Naea said, her voice strained and cold. "Have my things sent back to my apartment immediately."
Kenji didn't blink. He simply leaned back, his eyes dancing with a calculated glint as he deflected the blame. "I didn't make the call, Naea—Grandmother did." The grandmother froze, her gaze shifting to Kenji in mild confusion, though she quickly caught the subtext of his manipulation. Understanding the trap he had laid to paint her as the architect of this confinement, she sighed and nodded slowly. "Yes, Naea," she said, her voice weary but firm. "I did ask for it. The Takahashi mansion is your home, too. Why persist in living alone when you have us—Kenji, Yumi, and the children—all of whom love you dearly?"
"Grandmother, I don't doubt your love," Naea replied, her hands balling into fists at her sides, "but I have no intention of living here." Yumi, sensing the suffocating tension, stepped in, her voice a calm defense. "If Naea doesn't want to be here, Kenji, why force it? You should have asked her before uprooting her life." Kenji turned on Yumi, his mask of kindness slipping for a fraction of a second. "This was Grandmother's decision, Yumi, not mine." He turned back to Naea, stepping into her personal space, his eyes searching hers with an intensity that made her recoil. "I'm sorry for the lack of communication," he whispered, his tone shifting to a feigned, soft repentance. "If you truly don't want to stay, that's fine—neither Grandmother nor I would force you. But please, just spend a few days with her. That's all I ask." Naea refused to meet his gaze, staring instead at a point just past his shoulder. She looked toward Yumi, her expression unreadable. "I need to freshen up," she said, her voice brittle as she turned away, the promise of a quiet exit her only immediate goal.
Once Naea had retreated, the tension in the room dissipated, leaving only Kenji, his grandmother, and Yumi with the children. Kenji moved quickly, playing the attentive grandson as he approached the elderly woman. "Grandmother, it's time for your walk," he urged, steering her toward the tranquility of the garden. Once they were deep enough into the grounds that the others couldn't possibly overhear, the atmosphere shifted instantly. With a swift, practiced motion, the grandmother reached up and pinched Kenji's ear with surprising strength. "Have you no shame?" she hissed, her tone uncharacteristically severe. "You actually made me lie for you?"
"Ouch! Grandmother, please, let go!" Kenji winced, pulling back until she finally released him. He rubbed his ear, his composure fracturing. "You didn't see her look, Grandmother. When I told her I'd moved her things, she looked at me like a starving lion eyeing its prey. I panicked! I didn't know how else to salvage the situation, and I knew she would never dare to challenge you." A small, knowing smile played on the grandmother's lips, taking the edge off her sternness. "Is this the man you'll be after you're married?" she teased, her eyes glinting with amusement.
Kenji stopped mid-stride, his feet anchored to the garden path. "What do you mean by 'married'?" he asked, his voice suddenly guarded. The grandmother waved a dismissive hand. "Don't play coy with me. I know exactly how much you love Naea. But you are such a fool—you've let all this time pass without ever once opening your heart to her." Kenji's mind raced back to the cold, sterile air of apartment 44, hearing the phantom echo of Naea's voice telling him to stay away. He looked down, his shoulders slumping. "She doesn't even like me, Grandmother," he muttered. "The thought of confessing is nothing but a pipe dream."
The grandmother stopped and turned to him, her expression turning challenging. "Why are you so certain of that? Have you done something to drive her away?" Kenji fell into a heavy, suffocating silence, unable to meet her gaze. Before she could press him for an answer, Ryu's voice cut through the stillness from the path behind them. "Master Kenji, my apologies for the intrusion, but it is time to head to the office. The meeting with the new league head is imminent." The grandmother sighed, signaling for him to go. "Go, Kenji. This is not a meeting you can afford to miss." As she watched him hurry toward his responsibilities, she remained in the garden, her eyes lingering on the horizon. She sighed softly to herself, a quiet resolve in her tone: "For the Takahashi mansion, there will never be a daughter-in-law as perfect as Naea."
Naea emerged from her room, refreshed but still carrying the heavy mantle of her internal fatigue, and found the household humming with activity. The children were occupied with their games, and Yumi was a whirlwind of calm efficiency in the kitchen. Moving toward her, Naea inquired about the elaborate spread being prepared. Yumi smiled, explaining that it was the main breakfast for the adults. Naea was taken aback. "Breakfast? At this hour?"
"We were just waiting for you," Yumi replied gently. "Kenji insisted that breakfast shouldn't begin until you were awake." Naea felt a flicker of annoyance, murmuring that the late night had clearly set them all back, but Yumi waved off her concern, tasking her with setting the dishes on the dining table while she went to the garden to fetch the grandmother. As Naea arranged the plates, she found herself struck by a jarring realization: Minato Takahashi hadn't been dead for even twenty-four hours, yet the mansion felt entirely untouched by grief. The air wasn't heavy with mourning; it was suspiciously, unnervingly normal.
When Yumi returned with the grandmother and sat down beside Naea, she noticed the younger woman's distant, troubled expression. Leaning in, she asked softly, "What is weighing on your mind, Naea?"
Naea took a breath, struggling to articulate her confusion. "Minato has barely been gone a day. Why is everyone acting as if nothing has happened? How is this behavior so... normal?"
Yumi let out a faint, cynical smile. "That monster's absence makes no difference to my peace. My life was a nightmare while he was here, and it is infinitely better now that he is gone. As for the grandmother and Kenji, this is simply the Takahashi way. When someone in this family passes, they do not wallow in sorrow. They believe that if tears could bring the dead back to life, the world would be filled with the resurrected. They choose to move forward." Yumi lowered her voice, her eyes darting toward the grandmother. "Perhaps the grandmother prefers to pretend he is simply away on one of his long business trips. And Kenji? He has seen this detachment before, especially when his own uncle and aunt passed. He learned early that life in this mansion demands a certain coldness."
Before Yumi could elaborate, a voice cut through the air behind them. "Forgive me if I've kept you all waiting." It was Kenji. The grandmother offered a cryptic, pointed remark: "No matter, the daughters-in-law were just catching up." A flicker of confusion passed over the table, but Yumi, ever the diplomat, shifted the mood instantly. "Come, Kenji, sit. We're all starving."
As they settled into the meal, the silence was replaced by the clinking of cutlery and the mundane rhythm of a shared morning. Watching them from the head of the table, the grandmother felt a rare, quiet ache of relief bloom in her chest. For a fleeting, fragile moment, the house felt like a complete, functioning family—a vision of a future she had long doubted would ever exist.
By the time the final plates were cleared, it was already noon, the morning having stretched into a heavy, lingering meal that blurred the lines between breakfast and lunch. With the culinary tasks handled by the kitchen staff and Yumi's careful supervision, the table was finally quiet. The grandmother broke the silence, her eyes bright with a sudden spark of intent. "Kenji, I have something I wish to discuss with you," she began, her tone carrying a surprising lightness. "I have decided that I would like to visit Kyoto." Kenji leaned forward, his demeanor immediately shifting to that of an attentive, dutiful grandson. "That sounds like a wonderful idea, Grandmother. Just say the word and we shall arrange it. When do you wish to depart?" Her answering smile was mischievous. "Whenever my friends decide, of course." A ripple of genuine warmth passed through the group, a rare moment of ease among them.
Capitalizing on the reprieve, Kenji cleared his throat, his expression turning professional. "Speaking of arrangements, I nearly forgot the news. The meeting with the new league head was a complete success. To celebrate, they are hosting a gala tomorrow evening. I want it understood that everyone is expected to attend—no excuses, and certainly no drama." Naea's posture stiffened instantly. "I won't be joining you," she said, her voice cool and resolute. "I have a mandatory meeting with the hospital management tomorrow evening." Yumi, sensing the friction, quickly interjected with a supportive nod. "That is perfectly fine, Naea. You should focus on your preparations."
Kenji's jaw tightened at the dismissal, his frustration thinly veiled by a forced, polite mask. "I see," he replied, his voice strained. "Do let me know the time, and I will drop you off personally." Naea didn't even blink. "That won't be necessary; I'll take my own car." Kenji paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he delivered his trap. "Actually, that won't be possible. I noticed an issue with the engine, so I had it sent for servicing this morning. I insist—let me know the time, and I will drive you." Naea's hands clenched under the table, her pulse quickening with silent rage. "I can take a cab," she countered sharply. The grandmother finally intervened, her voice soft but carrying an undeniable weight of authority. "Naea, it would hardly be appropriate for a resident of the Takahashi mansion to be seen arriving by cab. Kenji is only looking out for you. Either he will take you, or the driver will be at your disposal for both arrival and departure." Naea looked at the older woman, the exhaustion of the standoff evident in her eyes. She knew when she was cornered. "Fine," she conceded, her voice barely a whisper. "Tell the driver to be ready." With that, she stood and retreated toward her room, the air thick with the unspoken frustration of being tethered to a family that refused to let her go.