A year and a half passed after we tried to bring Marianne back. As she promised, she returned shortly after graduating senior high in the Philippines.
Almost as if nothing had happened, Marianne slipped back into the life she had abandoned.
But this time, something about her felt… off.
"Marianne, about the progression of—"
"The new storehouse in Japan?" she cut in smoothly, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear as she sat comfortably behind her desk, inside her office at the main company building.
"Or the cargo ship still in dry dock?"
She didn't look up as she continued.
"Everything's proceeding as scheduled. I've already checked in with Mr. Aoyama in Japan. Hinami sent an update on the new ship model a few minutes ago."
I stopped.
How did she—
My gaze shifted to the edge of her desk.
A picture frame sat there.
That boy… again.
Another frame rested atop the small cabinet behind her. This time, she was in it too. Smiling as the boy, Kyle, held out a box of homemade chocolate. Something she must have given him herself.
"I see," I said at last, forcing my eyes away. "Please keep up the good work."
I turned and left before she could respond.
The door clicked shut behind me as I stepped into the hallway.
And for the first time since Marianne returned, I couldn't tell whether what I felt was concern—
Or the quiet realization that she had brought something back with her that didn't belong here.
Days passed, though they barely registered as such.
Before I realized it, I was overseas in Japan, assigned to oversee a new project the company had approved shortly after Marianne's return. The work was familiar. Predictable. Safe.
Then Hinami reached out.
The timing alone made me pause.
Curiosity won out.
I found myself inside a Shuisho-owned building, seated on a sofa in Hinami's office, porcelain warm against my palms.
"Ya, Ari-ari," she leaned forward, elbows on her knees, a grin curling at the edge of her lips. "You interested in a little gig? Y'know—walking down runways and stuff~"
The cup clinked softly as I set it down on the table.
"You mean modeling?" I asked.
Hinami brightened, sinking back into the sofa with a satisfied nod.
"Yep, yep! That."
My brows furrowed slightly as I tilted my head.
"So… why the sudden offer?" I asked. "Is something going on?"
Hinami's grin widened, unbothered. She lifted one shoulder in a lazy shrug.
"Nothing urgent," she said. "But you did mention wanting to help Mari-mari, didn't you?"
I stopped.
How does she know…? I don't remember mentioning anything like that… at least, not to her.
Hinami chuckled softly, as if she'd caught the exact reaction she was expecting.
"You sisters are easy to read," she said, shaking her head with amused fondness. "Especially when it's about something you actually care about."
She looked at me again, eyes sharp beneath the smile.
"You really are sisters."
I met her gaze, unblinking.
"And what does that have to do with this offer?"
Hinami picked up her cup, bringing it to her lips before taking a delicate sip.
"It should be obvious by now," she said, her voice lowering to a murmur. "Right now, you're about halfway to where Mari-mari is."
The porcelain cup clinked softly as she set it down, the sound echoing through the office and filling the silence that followed.
"If you want to help Marianne," she continued, her eyes meeting mine, "then it's time you step out of your little bubble and stop relying on your family's influence."
She didn't look away.
"What I'm saying is simple," Hinami said. "Make a name for yourself, Arianne."
"Without relying on what's carried you this far."
I went silent, my gaze falling to the porcelain cup in front of me, hands clenched into fists on my lap.
Was I really relying on my family's influence that much…?
All those projects. Connections. My skills and education…
I got them… because of my family.
Even the recognition I received was because I barely managed to live up to the Auclait name.
Slowly, I lifted my gaze, meeting Hinami's.
"Why exactly are you doing this," I muttered. "Hinami?"
It wasn't that I doubted her. Nor did I suspect her of having any ulterior motives.
Hinami simply glanced outside, through the glass panel of her office.
"Why…" she whispered. "Because I want to help Marianne, of course. We're friends, after all."
She turned back to me, her gaze settling on mine.
"We both want the same thing, don't we?"
My fingers loosened, the fabric of my skirt crumpled from how tightly I'd been gripping it earlier.
Of course…
Because they're friends…
It sounds so simple. And yet… it makes complete sense…
I took a deep breath, steadying myself. This was an opportunity, after all.
"When should I start?" I asked softly, steeling myself for what was to come. Hesitation was no longer an option.
Hinami's smile softened. She reached into her bag and placed a piece of paper on the small table between us.
"Next week. Sign this, and I'll help you stay relevant to your family and your sister."
I nodded, taking the pen she set beside it before scanning through the paper.
"Just to be sure," I said, glancing at her, "I won't be wearing anything that shows too much skin. Right?"
She looked away, shrugging.
"It depends. We might ask you to wear things that leave little to the imagination."
I stiffened.
"Bikinis are out of the question, right? No gravure magazine covers?"
Hinami immediately reacted, staring at me like I'd just offended an entire generation of Fuyukawas.
"We do not do those, okay?" she said sharply. "Besides, your sister would kill me if I got you involved in anything like that."
My gaze lingered on her, even as I signed the contract.
"…Oi. Stop acting like I'm some creep," Hinami sighed, rolling her eyes. "We've known each other since we were, what—ten? Have some faith in me."
—
The next week arrived sooner than I expected.
It took me a few moments to realize that I was already preparing to step into unknown territory.
Wearing the clothes the designer Hinami had recommended for my first shoot, I paused, taking my time to look at the person staring back at me in the mirror.
The meek girl with half-lidded eyes was gone.
In her place stood a pale, white-haired girl with blue eyes and an unwavering confidence, someone who looked like she could command attention wherever she went.
After a long moment, I stumbled back onto the couch behind me, one hand pressing against my forehead.
"I'm seriously doing this…"
I glanced at my phone resting on the armrest beside me.
"It's only been a week since I signed that contract… and things are already moving too fast for me to process."
"Miss Auclait, please get ready. The photoshoot is starting!"
The voice cut through my thoughts. I straightened at once.
"Understood!" I replied, smoothing the dress I was wearing.
Velvet. Flowing. Accented in red—
And shoulderless.
It was something I had never imagined myself wearing, not even at galas.
As I stepped out of the dressing room, the cameras were already set. Lined up neatly against the white backdrop that filled the room.
Alright.
I lightly poked my cheek, then shook my head once as I walked into position in front of the lens.
Let's do this.
Facing the cameras, my hands trembled. Uncontrollably at first.
A tight knot of fear rose in my throat, but I forced it down.
And then I saw her.
Hinami stood off to the side, smiling. Hands clasped together, covering her mouth as if she were looking at something… breathtaking.
Almost instinctively, I followed every instruction the cameraman gave.
Adjust your shoulders.
Chin up.
Look here.
Before I realized it, he was already giving me a broad thumbs-up.
The others in the room nodded along with him.
I still didn't understand why.
After the photoshoot, I sank onto the couch inside the dressing room, staring up at the ceiling.
"Just like that…?"
Why did it barely feel like a minute… when it took more than ten in reality…?
A loud BAM interrupted my thoughts.
The door swung open, and Hinami burst in. Practically flying across the room before making a beeline straight for me. I was still wearing the same dress.
"Kyaaa!!" she squealed. "You're gorgeous! Oh my gosh!"
She lunged forward, her arms immediately wrapping around my neck.
"Goodness, who knew you'd be absolutely breathtaking with white hair?!"
I groaned, trying, and failing to pry her off.
"What are you even talking about…?"
"This!" she exclaimed, shoving her phone directly in front of my face.
I stared at the screen.
A familiar white-haired girl looked back at me. Poised, confident, unmistakably professional. There was something ethereal about her, almost unreal.
"…Wow," I murmured. "She's beautiful…"
Hinami froze.
She slowly turned to look at me, her expression flattening into something between disbelief and concern.
"That's you."
"…Eh?"
"Yes."
I shook my head, then looked back at the photo.
"That's me…?"
Hinami nodded.
I leaned back, trying to reconcile the girl in the photo with the one I'd seen in the mirror just moments ago.
What…?
Why is there such a stark difference…?
Was that… really me?
Before I could connect the two, my phone suddenly lit up.
I sighed, still caught in the afterimage of the photo, and reached for it.
But the moment I read the message—
I froze.
The phone slipped from my hand, clattering against the floor by my feet.
A single message filled the screen.
"Marianne has been accused of deliberately hiding funds for the past month. Discrepancies were found in every file she handled. The Matriarch is threatening to disown her."
"…What?"