Shiragin Tower, 38th floor. Morning light reflected off the glass panels, and the footsteps of corporate warriors echoed through the hallway. In one corner of the executive floor, Shiragin Tōichirō had quietly summoned his secretary. The reception room, wrapped in silence. Spread across the table was a single file. Within it, transaction data from two years prior, meticulously organized. Among the documents from Maruose Foods, there was a record pointing out just one anomaly. It bore the mark of Kirihara Reuna's hand. "This figure," he said. Tōichirō traced his finger along the line emphasized in red. His eyes held a cold light. "It's from a project several years back, but..." The secretary attempted a response. "Yes. And who pointed this out?" "A woman in the sales administration department at Maruose Foods..." Tōichirō smiled faintly. The smile appeared gentle, but beneath it lay the gaze of a hunter who had found his prey. "Perfect. This is enough to cast suspicion on her as a whistleblower. To anyone's eyes, she'll look like someone who discovered their own company's misconduct. Shunya's wife exposed the darkness of the Shiragin Group—we can make it appear that way." The words were delivered matter-of-factly, yet their weight was immeasurable. Tōichirō's aim was clear: by framing Reuna as the whistleblower, he would blunt the momentum of Shunya's reformist faction. Shift the balance of power within the group in his favor. "I'll submit this material at the executive meeting. The order is crucial. First, we present the investigation report regarding Reuna. Then we show this historical data. Make the causal relationship unmistakably clear." The secretary nodded. Yet within that nod lay a faint hesitation. Meanwhile, at that same morning hour elsewhere. In the sales administration department of Maruose Foods, the usual morning briefing was underway. Sixteen desks. At the second one, Kirihara Reuna sat. Black straight long hair tied back in a single knot. White shirt, navy skirt. Her usual work clothes. Yet recently, something different had begun to dwell in her eyes—a new light. "Ru-chan, just a sec..." The voice came from the adjacent seat. Miyazono Chisa, her hazel-brown eyes turned toward Reuna. Her complexion was slightly pallid. "What is it?" The response came in her usual modest tone. A cadence that seemed to gauge the other's reaction. "Hey, did you hear? About the Shiragin Group's whistleblower?" At those words, Reuna's expression shifted. A subtle stiffening. Her hand moved unconsciously to the star-shaped mark beneath her left collarbone. "Eh...?" Chisa held up her smartphone. A news site. "Shiragin Group Accounting Fraud Allegations—Who Is the Whistleblower?" The article's depths concealed another layer of information. "See? At the end of this article. It says 'The whistleblower may be a high-ranking figure within the Shiragin Group.' So..." Chisa stared intently at Reuna's face. In her eyes, worry and suspicion mingled. "You know something about this, don't you?" Reuna could not answer. Even as she tried, the words caught in her throat. In truth, she knew nothing. Yet without realizing it, wasn't she being drawn into this vortex? That anxiety pressed down on Reuna's heart. "It's fine. Shunya-san is handling it..." After those words, Reuna averted her gaze from Chisa. Afternoon. Shiragin Tower, 38th floor. Secretary's office. Himuro Saya was alone, scrutinizing documents. Long, lustrous chestnut-brown straight hair flowed across the keyboard. Her eyes moved with cold precision, checking each record one by one. There, organized before her, lay Reuna's past work records. Transaction logs, email histories, approval stamps. All of it laid bare beneath Saya's gaze. (Did Reuna-san notice the discrepancy in these figures...?) Complex emotions swirled through Saya's mind. The impulse to trouble Shiragin. And the impulse to protect Shiragin. These two forces collided violently within her. Her finger touched unconsciously at the small bruise mark on her neck. That mark—an old wound. A remnant of past regret. (I should make trouble for Shiragin.) One part of her thought that, while (I can't do such a thing.) Another part insisted otherwise. These two selves warred within Saya's interior. Evening. The president's office. Shiragin Shunya was surrounded by mountains of documents. His complexion was unusually severe. At that moment, the door opened quietly. Tōichirō entered. His expression bore his usual gentle smile. Yet his eyes were cold calculation itself. "Shunya." The address was familial. Yet the voice carried the weight of authority. "Uncle." Shunya looked up. His eyes fixed on Tōichirō. Wariness. And something else—the color of perception, of having sensed something. "I plan to present an important agenda at the executive meeting. Regarding developments in the whistleblower matter. The investigation has progressed." The words were delivered flatly. Yet beneath them lay a clear threat. "What are you scheming?" The question was direct. The authority of a president. The instinct of blood kinship. Both were woven into Shunya's words. "Scheming? I'm simply bringing truth to light. How your wife is involved in this matter. The investigation results have come in." In that instant, Shunya's entire body turned to ice. (Reuna...) That name alone echoed through his mind. After Tōichirō left, Shunya summoned Saya. The secretary's office. Shunya's expression was sharper than ever. "The investigation regarding Reuna. Who ordered it?" To that question, Saya had no choice but to answer. "Vice Chairman Tōichirō." At those words, Shunya's fist clenched. Deep night. Résidence Platine Shirokane. 32nd floor. From the living room window, Tokyo's night skyline spread in full view. Skytree and Tower gleamed without expression. The entrance door opened. Reuna had come home. Her footsteps were heavier than usual. As she entered the living room, she saw Shunya sitting on the sofa. His expression was the harshest she had ever seen. There was no tenderness there, no gentleness. Only warning. "Reuna." His voice was low. That lowness brought deep unease to Reuna. "Yes...?" Her response came thin and fragile. "From tomorrow onward, exercise extreme caution in your conduct at work. No matter what you're asked, don't answer carelessly. Do you understand?" The instruction was nearly a command. "Did I... do something wrong?" Her voice trembled as she asked. "You've done nothing wrong. You're simply... being drawn in." After those words, Shunya turned to face her directly. His eyes captured hers. Within them lay resolve. Yet also—hesitation. "I will... protect you." Those words were small, yet their weight was absolute. But no explanation followed. Shunya said nothing more. He only looked at her. His gaze was deep, complex, something swirling within it. Reuna could not turn her eyes away from that gaze. (What is he trying to protect me from...?) That question began to echo silently in the depths of her heart. Beyond the living room window, Tokyo's night skyline continued to gleam coldly. In places unseen, threads of power twisted together in intricate patterns. Those threads were quietly beginning to tighten around Reuna's neck—though she did not yet know it. But Shunya knew. And what was he about to do to free Reuna from those tangled threads? That answer still lay hidden in darkness.