The sound of the piano still lingered somewhere deep in her body. That melody had seeped into her dreams. Fragmented, stuttering, like a sound searching for something. She'd tossed and turned through the sleepless night, and by the time she noticed, the ceiling had begun to pale with dawn. Yukari lay in her futon with her eyes open, methodically recalling everything from last night. Renji's words first—"treating you as a possession"—surfaced in her mind. Then came the temperature of the wrist she'd touched at the Ebisu restaurant. The faint tremor hidden beneath Toma's voice, which had taken the form of a command. And finally, that piano melody she'd heard standing alone in the hallway, the moment it cut off. *(What is this person afraid of?)* That question alone refused to fade, even as morning came. When she descended to the entrance hall, Toma was already wearing his coat. The study door remained closed—he must have woken before her. "Documents." handed her an envelope without a word. Yukari accepted it. The envelope's surface bore no writing. She was about to ask what was inside when she noticed Toma already heading toward the entrance, so she swallowed the question. This person wouldn't touch on what happened last night. The black sedan's back seat, traveling from Shimoka Manor to Ichijo Center Building, was quiet as always. But the silence felt different from yesterday. Yesterday's silence had been about confirming contractual distance. This morning's silence carried a different weight—something being pressed down, held back. Toma had spread documents across his lap, but he didn't turn a single page. Yukari watched the city flow past the window. The Marunouchi streetscape drifted by. November's morning light was thin, and the street trees swayed faintly. *(I still don't know if Renji's words were right or wrong.)* But that tremor in his hand—even if reason couldn't explain it, she believed it wasn't a lie. Why she could be so certain, she couldn't put into words. She simply believed it. After parting with Toma in the Center Building lobby, Yukari took the elevator to the thirty-sixth floor. She placed the envelope on her desk in the Management Planning Division and checked only the cover. Inside were investigation materials about "Verde Partners"—several pages neatly organizing the company's founding history, the representative's background, and past clients. Renji Kirishima. Thirty-one years old. Yukari quietly read the information listed beside that name. The further she read, the more she sensed another layer beneath the gentle smile she'd seen at the Ebisu restaurant. There was something in the gaps of his official title as a management consultant. Still, she couldn't be certain. Yukari filed the envelope away in her drawer. ━━━━━━ Noon arrived. The basement-level employee cafeteria "Marunouchi Kitchen" grew crowded with staff from each floor after twelve o'clock. Yukari held her tray in line and selected today's set meal—grilled salmon, miso soup, white rice. Simple fare seemed suited for a day when the spirit was worn thin. As she turned to find a seat, a voice called from the next table. "田中さん, there's space here." Bright blonde short bob hair turned toward her, waving. Vivid emerald green eyes sparkled with curiosity. Sonoda Mizuki, a temporary employee in the Management Planning Division—someone with whom Yukari had exchanged only minimal greetings until now—was already pulling out the chair across from her as if it were the most natural thing. "...Please do." There was no reason to refuse. Yukari set down her tray and sat across from her. Mizuki settled into her seat with the chicken sauté set meal, casually placing her smartphone down without any particular tension. She didn't make a show of striking up conversation, nor did she stare intently. There was simply a natural ease to her presence. The way she maintained distance made Yukari's shoulders relax without her noticing. "Room Director Asakura was in a bad mood again today. When he spotted that typo in the report, his eyebrows twitched just a little." She said it matter-of-factly, but with an air of enjoyment. Yukari smiled slightly. "I'll be careful." "Oh, but the typo wasn't mine." With that, Mizuki picked up her chopsticks. She simply said "Let's eat" and brought the sauté to her mouth. The way she didn't press further, the grace of her restraint—it was comforting. For a while, the two ate in silence. "A lot of people in the Management Planning Division know that you're the Ichijo heir's fiancée." Mizuki said it casually. Yukari's chopsticks stopped. It wasn't fear. Not the panic of a secret being exposed, nor anxiety about her position in the company—none of that. The moment the word "fiancée" was spoken, the memory of that trembling hand overlapped with it. That was all. Something tightened deep in her chest. "...I see." "I don't think it's become a big deal. Everyone kind of knows but doesn't say anything, that sort of thing." Mizuki continued without concern and returned to her meal. ━━━━━━ Even after finishing, the two remained at their table without clearing their trays. The initiative came from Mizuki. Without preamble, she simply began speaking naturally. "What do you think the Ichijo heir is like?" "...What do you mean?" "That person's been like that for twelve years straight, right? According to seniors who were here when he took over, he's barely changed since his appointment. Unreadable emotions, hard to approach, but his judgment is sound." Mizuki leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on the table. Her voice had grown quieter, but she wasn't enjoying gossip—she was speaking with conviction, with certainty in her eyes. "I like researching things like this. Old company records, stories from retired seniors. I've managed to piece together a few things." Yukari said nothing. She neither prompted Mizuki to continue nor stopped her, simply watching. "It was twelve years ago. The previous patriarch, Ichijo Gensho, passed away, and Toma, who was twenty-two at the time, inherited the position. He was approved by the Okushouin Council—the family council that decides important matters for the Ichijo family—by a narrow margin of seven to five. His uncle Eiji was one of the dissenting votes, and that apparently sparked the formation of the current anti-mainstream faction." Yukari recalled the materials in the envelope. Names that weren't written there came from Mizuki's mouth. "But I don't think the reason Ichijo became cold was just from that succession. I think it goes back further." Mizuki checked her phone's memo app once before continuing. "The previous patriarch, Gensho, was apparently very strict with his successor's education. The Ichijo family has a family precept—'Sever emotion, open the way.' He apparently drilled that precept into his son. Every time he showed emotion, he was told he was unfit as a manager. From childhood." "...From childhood." Yukari repeated only those words. She spoke them aloud because she couldn't swallow them. "After his appointment, with his uncle's encirclement, it was even worse. In a reality where showing emotion became a direct weakness, he's been managing all this time. He's not cold—he had to become cold." The moment those words fell—everything in Yukari's chest connected in a single line. The ash-blue eyes in the late-night study, close to fear. The four characters "余計ではない"—*not excessive*. The back of the hallway, silently offering an envelope. The trembling fingers wrapped around her wrist at the Ebisu restaurant. The stuttering piano melody she'd heard last night. Everything connected. *(All alone, night after night, for so many years.)* Her vision blurred for just a moment. Her throat tightened, her hand gripping the edge of the tray hard. Whether this was sadness or anger or something else entirely—words couldn't catch up. She barely held back the heat rising behind her eyes, letting her gaze fall to the table. *(The true nature of what I've been feeling toward those frightened eyes—)* "But I can't guarantee how accurate this is since I researched it through gossip." Mizuki wrapped up the serious topic matter-of-factly, adding that caveat. "...You should have said that first." She found herself murmuring that. She couldn't laugh, but the tension drained from her. Mizuki grinned and replied, "But if I'd said that first, you might not have listened," with such lightness that the tightness in Yukari's chest eased just a little. ━━━━━━ The afternoon Management Planning Division operated with its usual quiet efficiency. After three o'clock, Director Asakura stood up and announced, "We're starting the Verde Partners meeting. Those involved, please come to the conference room." Yukari also stood, gathering her materials. When she opened the conference room door, Renji Kirishima was already seated there. Deep navy semi-long hair, bangs swept diagonally across his face, a modest beauty mark at the corner of his mouth. Dressed in business attire different from the Ebisu restaurant last night, but his heterochromatic eyes—one gold, one silver—found Yukari and narrowed peacefully. "Thank you for the other night." He made no mention of the Ebisu evening. With a gentle smile on his face, he greeted Director Asakura as if nothing had happened. The perfection of that "nothing happened" expression sent something cold crawling down Yukari's spine. The meeting proceeded matter-of-factly. Document confirmation, numerical verification, Q&A. Renji's remarks were precise, specialized, difficult to counter. Director Asakura responded calmly. In the midst of it, Renji turned toward Yukari. "I apologize for last night. I was worried about you." His voice was low, a whisper inaudible to the other participants. If this had been yesterday, it might have seeped into her heart. But now—Mizuki's words occupied the center of her chest. The phrase "had to become cold" took up the core of her being. Renji's "warmth" felt like it was reaching her from a greater distance than before. Yukari gave a small nod. That was all. When the meeting ended and they stepped into the hallway, Renji came alongside her. "田中さん." His gold and silver eyes turned straight toward her from the side. The weight of that gaze hadn't changed. "Can we talk again?" As he spoke, he lightly placed his hand on her arm. Once, that touch would have altered her pulse. But now, Yukari's body—stiffened slightly. Before her mind could process, her body had given its answer. Her skin reacted before her thoughts caught up. "...I'll think about it. Another time." She answered vaguely and began walking. "That person's smile shows too much teeth." Mizuki, now walking beside her, said only that in a low voice. Yukari didn't answer, but she felt something solidify quietly within her chest. ━━━━━━ The Shimoka Manor dining room at night held its usual stillness. Dinner was yudofu—hot pot tofu—that Murase had prepared. Toma ate in silence for a while, and Yukari moved her chopsticks quietly as well. Beyond the window, the night of Shirokane spread out. Streetlight illuminated the drooping cherry tree branches, and the leafless limbs stretched thinly into the sky. "Did you speak with Renji Kirishima at today's meeting?" Toma asked. His gaze remained fixed on the whiskey glass on the table. "He participated in the meeting. He spoke to me briefly." She answered curtly. Toma said nothing. He lifted the glass and took only a single sip. His long fingers slowly returned it to the table. *(Tonight, I won't back down.)* Until yesterday, Yukari would have remained silent here. She would have swallowed her questions without asking for reasons. But tonight—Mizuki's words burned in her chest, and now that she knew of that solitary back, she couldn't silently comply with this silence. "Why must I be careful?