The 38th floor of Shirogane Tower. Within the heavy conference room, the monthly executive meeting was underway. Fifteen executives sat arranged around a large ebony table. Morning sunlight streamed through the windows, its flow only emphasizing the cold atmosphere of the conference room. From a coffee cup placed at the edge of the table, faint wisps of steam rose upward. Shirogane Toshiya sat at the far end of the table. Black suit, white shirt. A small mole at the corner of his mouth was the only softness in his expressionless face. His gaze traced the numbers spread across the A4 paper before him. That was all. Only five minutes had passed since the meeting began. And yet, a sense of discord already permeated the room. "Then, let us proceed with today's agenda," the planning director, who was facilitating, continued in a matter-of-fact tone. In that moment, the conference room door opened quietly. A latecomer. Fifty-two years old. Shirogane Toichiro. The instant his figure entered their view, the atmosphere in the conference room shifted subtly. Something invisible. Like a single raindrop falling on a water's surface, it began to spread ripples. Toichiro sat directly across from Toshiya. Exactly opposite ends of the table. The distance between them was three meters. But that distance was not merely physical space—it was the distance of factions and power. "My apologies. I had a small matter to attend to," Toichiro's voice was soft. There was no hint of apology in it. Rather, an ease seemed to drift from it. His eyes fixed on Toshiya. In the depths of those eyes, something seemed hidden. Toshiya let that gaze pass through him. With a gesture like turning a newspaper page, he shifted his attention to the next page of the document. That indifference, paradoxically, dominated the room. "Then, without further delay, I would like the director to explain the new business investment proposal for this fiscal period," the planning director said. In that moment, Toshiya straightened. Not standing, but merely lifting himself slightly from the back of his chair. Yet that movement alone made it clear that Toshiya held the initiative. "The total investment scale for this period is 3.5 billion. The focus will be equity investment in IT companies," Toshiya's voice was matter-of-fact. No emotional fluctuation. Simply stating facts. Yet that very voice carried persuasive power. But then it came. The finance director, who belonged to Toichiro's faction, set down his pen. The sound echoed through the conference room. A moment of silence. The weight of that silence began to kindle the spark of debate. "President. Isn't that risk rather excessive?" the finance director said. His voice carried not a question, but an objection. And beneath that objection, it was clear to everyone that there was instruction from Toichiro. Toshiya, hearing the objection, raised the data sheet. "The IT industry's growth rate is 15% annually. Considering our company's current profit margins, this investment will certainly be recovered. The data is here," His explanation was precise. Nearly perfect. Yet the objections did not cease. One after another, executives belonging to Toichiro's faction began raising questions. "Growth rates aside, market fluctuations cannot be predicted." "Isn't this outside our company's area of expertise?" "Shouldn't we proceed more cautiously with this proposal?" The flow of objections was calculated. Once one person broke the ice, the current formed automatically thereafter. Within that current, Toshiya's proposal gradually began to lose shape. Still, Toshiya continued his counterarguments. He presented numbers, stated his reasoning. Yet even that logical rebuttal seemed to be drowned out by the emotional objections. Then it happened. Toichiro raised his hand slowly. With that gesture, the conference room fell silent. That power. That control. As Toshiya watched, he felt the gap in strength between himself and this uncle of his. "There is merit to everyone's opinions," Toichiro's voice remained calm. That gentleness only increased its danger. "However, I also understand Toshiya's passion. So, as a proposal, why don't we proceed more cautiously, taking it step by step? Not immediately, but with an eye toward six months, a year from now." Toichiro's proposal sounded rational. But in reality, it was a postponement of the plan. And it had the effect of eroding Toshiya's influence. The meeting continued. But Toshiya did not regain the initiative. The meeting ended past noon. In the hallway, Toshiya took a deep breath. That breath was filled not with fatigue, but with anger. Yet that anger did not surface. His position as president would not allow it. Then footsteps were heard. Miyazono Chisa. The instant her figure entered his field of vision, Chisa stopped. Her pale hazel-brown eyes held a brightness that seemed out of place in the hallway of Shirogane Tower. "Um, that is..." Chisa spoke hesitantly. Her voice carried the intention to convey something important. "You're Miss Miyazono from Marusei Foods, aren't you?" Suddenly, a low voice was heard. A voice from behind. Its owner was Shirogane Toichiro. Toichiro had emerged from the corner of the hallway. His appearance did not seem coincidental—it was calculated timing. Toichiro's gaze turned toward Chisa. In his eyes dwelt a probing color. "Young lady, you must be quite busy with work. To visit the president's office personally?" Toichiro's words seemed polite on the surface. Respectful, courteous. But beneath lay a hidden intention to probe something. Chisa drew back slightly from that question. Even her sociable smile seemed to fade before the coldness of this hallway. "Oh, no. It's about Runa... about Runa, I had something..." Chisa's words came in fragments. Her manner revealed that she was overwhelmed by Toichiro's gaze. Seeing this, Toichiro smiled slowly. That smile was gentlemanly. Yet something dwelling in the depths of that smile caught in Chisa's chest, and her back stiffened with tension. "Runa, you say. Yes, she's a lovely woman. To become the president's wife, no less," Toichiro's words seemed to praise. Yet their weight exceeded the level of praise. They were words meant to confirm something. Words meant to probe something. Chisa, receiving those words, nodded. But her nod was faint. From the far end of the hallway, Toshiya watched this scene. His eyes captured the exchange between Toichiro and Chisa. Yet what dwelt in the depths of those eyes was not anger alone. Something else was mixed in. It was vigilance. ─ ─ ─ At that same moment. Kita Ward, Akabane. Kirihara Runa was descending from the station. The instant she passed through the ticket gate, a familiar air enveloped her. The scent of the street. The bustle of the crowd. The small shops lined up along the street. Everything was a familiar world etched into the depths of Runa's heart. (It's still Akabane, after all.) Runa kept that thought hidden in the depths of her heart. The Shirokane-dai apartment. The Shirogane Tower office. The cold air there. From all of it, Runa was now trying to create distance, even if only for a moment. She walked through the shopping street. Suzuran Street. In its full length of 300 meters, the street held all of Runa's past memories. The sign for the restaurant "Manpuku-tei" came into view. But Runa had no intention of going there today. Her destination was an old single-family house. At the entrance of that house, Runa came to a stop. She took a deep breath. That breath was preparation of the heart. She pushed open the front door. "Oh, Runa!" A voice called out. That voice instantly transported Runa's heart back to her mother. Kirihara Yoshie. Fifty-six years old. Short bob with streaks of white hair. Her face held both warmth as she looked at her daughter and, simultaneously, something complex. Her mother embraced her daughter at the entrance. That embrace lasted long. "Runa... I was shocked when I heard you'd gotten married," Her mother's voice held joy, and at the same time, something like anxiety hidden within it. The two sat in the living room. Tea was served. Warm tea. Its aroma calmed Runa's heart somewhat. "The person you married..." Her mother asked hesitantly. "The... president of the company," Runa's answer was brief. That brevity itself seemed to suggest she was hiding something. Her mother, hearing that response, opened her eyes slightly. But that surprise quickly transformed into another expression. It was worry. Her mother's eyes fixed on her daughter's face. That gaze was deep. "The president? He must be wealthy?" To that question, Runa nodded. But her nod was small. Her mother gazed at Runa for a while. In her eyes, as if past memories were reflected there, something seemed to waver. "You..." Her mother continued slowly. Her words had become heavy. "Don't end up like me," Those words. In that moment, a sense of discord ran through Runa's heart. (What does that mean...?) Runa tried to search for the meaning of those words. But her mother's face was turned away. What was reflected in that profile was sadness. Her mother's fingers were clasped together on the table. That gesture expressed some kind of conflict. On the ring finger of her left hand, there was a thin scar. A remnant of a sports injury from her youth. Runa stared at that scar. "Long ago, I was a track and field athlete. I even competed in the nationals. Running with all my might, jumping with all my might..." Her mother's voice was like that of someone recounting distant memories. "But then I was injured. That ended it. And after that..." Her mother stopped speaking. "I could only think about living normally. With your father too, it was like that. No ambition, no expectations. Just..." The words that followed did not come from her mother's mouth, but were conveyed to Runa implicitly. Her mother was trying to warn her daughter of something. "You're different. You still have a path ahead. You have money now too. So, don't let yourself be controlled by anything. Don't lose yourself for the sake of something," Her mother's words were a mixture of love and warning. Runa received those words. In that moment, something ached in her chest. It was her mother's worry. And simultaneously, it was the very conflict Runa herself was now facing. (Is this marriage... really the right thing?) That question began to resound silently within Runa's heart. Evening came. Runa parted with her mother on the way to the station. As she left her mother's house, a murmur reached her from behind. "If you're ever in trouble, come back anytime," Those words remained in Runa's heart. On the train heading toward Shirokane-dai, Runa gazed out the window. Tokyo's scenery flowed past one after another. From the familiarity of Akabane to the coldness of Shirokane-dai. Within that transition, Runa felt something changing. When she returned to Residence Platine Shirokane, night had already deepened. Upon entering the 32nd-floor apartment, the living room was quiet. But the study door was slightly ajar, and faint light leaked from within. Runa stared at that light. Beyond it was Shirogane Toshiya. (How did the meeting go...?) Thinking that, Runa headed toward her own room. Yet in the depths of her heart, her mother's words weighed heavily. That night, Runa could not sleep. Gazing out at Tokyo's nightscape, Runa lost sense of where she was. The familiarity of Akabane and the future of Shirokane-dai. Between those two worlds, Runa wavered. And within that wavering, another question was born. (What do I really think of this person...?) Shirogane Toshiya. That man's face floated in Runa's mind. Her hand touched the star-shaped scar beneath her left collarbone. That unconscious habit spoke to the instability of Runa's heart. That night's time simply flowed slowly. The ne