The letters from the note still lingered behind his eyes. *I have no right to confirm it.* Last night, she'd fallen asleep feeling the warmth of Toshiya's hand. That was true. But when morning came and that warmth faded, what remained was that single line. Why hadn't Kouichi Shiragi come to confirm it? The thirty-second floor of Résidence Platine Shirogane. Morning light cast long shadows across the spacious living room floor. Runa sat on the sofa, cradling a coffee cup in both hands. Steam rose slowly, scattering before her face. (Did Mom know?) Yoshie Kirihara. Fifty-six years old. Living alone in an old house in Akabane. Working part-time at a prepared foods shop, worrying from afar about her daughter's marriage—an ordinary mother. But last night, that name was definitely written on the stationery. The addressee on Kouichi's letter. The passage mentioning the star-shaped birthmark. And that line: "If the child born inherited it..." (If they inherited it, that means—) She started to think it through, then stopped. There was no need to find the answer right now. Last night, Toshiya hadn't said as much, but the air between them had seemed to say it. *Don't rush.* Footsteps echoed from the hallway. Toshiya entered the living room. Already dressed in a black suit, adjusting his tie. The hour was slightly earlier than usual, but his expression had returned to its customary composure. Yet the fact that they both knew about last night's letter hung quietly in the air between them. "[gentle] Is there still coffee?" "[gentle] Yes. I'll make some for you." As Runa started to stand, Toshiya stopped her with a gesture. He went to the kitchen himself, retrieving a cup from the cabinet. When had this become so natural? Runa wondered. Back when they'd signed the contract, Toshiya wouldn't have even stepped foot in this kitchen. Toshiya returned to the sofa with his cup and sat beside Runa. On the table, last night's stationery still lay there—folded in half, old paper. For a while, they drank their coffee in silence. It wasn't an awkward silence. Not one where they were choosing words or hiding something. It was the kind of quiet that came from two people carrying the same weight together. "[serious] ...Should we ask your mother?" Runa set her cup down on her lap. "[gentle] ...Yes. I think I need to ask." "Are you afraid?" *Be honest,* she thought. The version of herself that had said "I don't hate it" last night—she was still here today. "[gentle] I am afraid. But...I want to know too. I want to properly understand what my mother has been carrying all this time." Toshiya nodded slightly. "[serious] I'll go with you." "Eh?" The word escaped before she could stop it. Toshiya coming to Akabane. This man, in that old house. She tried to imagine it and couldn't quite manage. "[serious] It's too much for you alone. Besides, I'm involved in this too—it's my father's letter." His tone was matter-of-fact. But Runa already knew that was Toshiya's way. His quiet words came closer to his true feelings than any emotional declaration ever could. (He's coming with me.) Something warm bloomed deep in her chest. The sensation of his hand last night returned to her. "[gentle] ...Thank you." "Don't thank me." With that, Toshiya took a sip of coffee. Outside the window, the morning sky over Shirogane spread out in blue. Not a cloud in sight—a perfectly clear day. ——That morning, Runa stopped by the sales administration department at Maruze Foods. She needed to tell her supervisor about taking a day off, but Chisa noticed immediately. From the adjacent desk, she was staring at her intently. "[serious] Something's different about your face." "Really?" "It is. More than yesterday...you seem calmer somehow. But also like you're worried about something. Which is it?" "[laughing] ...Both, probably." Chisa gave a wry smile. "You're too honest, Runa," she said quietly. Hearing Chisa's usual voice, Runa felt a little relieved. She submitted her leave request and left the office. ——Early afternoon. Runa was in Akabane. Exiting the east exit of JR Akabane Station, she entered the shopping street "Suzuran-dori." Along the three-hundred-meter stretch, familiar shops lined the way. As she passed the prepared foods shop "Okazu Yokocho," she could see her mother in a white apron handing a bag to a customer. She started to call out, then waited. She approached only after her mother's hands were free. "[surprised] Runa? Don't you have work today?" "[gentle] I took the day off. There's something I wanted to talk about." Her mother's eyes narrowed for just a moment—an old habit, trying to read her daughter's face. "...I see. Want to go to Manpuku-tei for lunch?" Manpuku-tei—a set meal restaurant. The shop of Okawachi, who had been her father's close friend. Daily specials for seven hundred fifty yen. The place Runa came to alone sometimes. They sat side by side at the counter and ordered the daily special. Okawachi brought out miso soup, saying "It's been a while, Runa." His voice, the air of this place—it eased some of the tension from Runa's shoulders. After the food arrived and she'd eaten a little, Runa spoke. "[serious] Mom, can I ask you something? ...Do you know Kouichi Shiragi?" Her mother's chopsticks stopped. Her hand froze on the table. One second. Two seconds. Then, slowly, her mother looked up. The moment Runa saw her eyes, she understood everything. She had known. All along, she had known. "...Where did you..." "[gentle] A letter was left behind. A letter addressed to you." Her mother quietly lowered her gaze. A long silence followed. Okawachi quietly withdrew to the back of the counter. She understood—he was being considerate. "[sad] ...I'm sorry, Runa." "Please don't apologize." Her voice came out clearer than she expected. "[gentle] I'm not angry. I just...wanted to know. What you've been carrying all this time. What it means that I was born with this birthmark." Her mother slowly looked up. Her eyes were slightly red. "[sad] ...A long time ago, there was someone I loved. Back in university. But that person had a family...family circumstances. We had to break up." "That person was..." "[sad] ...Yes. But by the time you were born, I was in no position to contact him. I decided I would raise you on my own. I was so grateful when your father came into our lives." Father. The father of the Kirihara household—the man who had died of illness when Runa was in high school. Kind, fond of jokes, the man she'd walked through this Akabane shopping street with. Had he known about these circumstances when he chose to be with her mother? (Dad was...an amazing person.) The thought made her eyes sting with unshed tears. She held them back and took a sip of miso soup. "[gentle] ...Toshiya said he'd come with me." "Eh?" "Kouichi's son. My...husband." Her mother went very still. Then, slowly, her eyes narrowed with a complex expression. Sadness, surprise, relief—all of it mixed together. "[gentle] ...I see." "Can you meet him, Mom? Can we three talk properly?" Her mother was quiet for a moment. Outside the window, the afternoon crowds continued along Suzuran-dori. A neighbor passed by. Just another ordinary Akabane afternoon. "[gentle] ...Alright. Have him come." A quiet answer, but a clear one. Runa nodded slightly. The tension that had been coiled in her chest loosened a little. Not everything was resolved. She still didn't understand why Kouichi hadn't come, the connection to the Akatsuki Society, or what that mysterious voice on the phone had meant by "being marked." Nothing. But today, she had taken one step forward. As she left, Okawachi told her, "Come again." The same words as always. That was enough. ——Night. Résidence Platine Shirogane. She told Toshiya about today. That her mother had acknowledged it. That she'd agreed to meet. Toshiya listened in silence. When she finished, he looked out the window for a moment. The orange light of Tokyo Tower glowed as it always did. "[serious] ...I see." That was all he said. Then Toshiya turned to face her. "You did well." Short words. But Toshiya didn't often say "you did well." Runa received those words quietly into her chest. They sat side by side on the sofa, saying nothing for a while. On the table, last night's stationery still lay there. Old paper. Faded ink. But what was contained in those letters—it was still here, even after all these decades. Runa gently placed her hand over the back of Toshiya's. The reverse of last night. Tonight, she had reached out first. Toshiya showed no surprise. He simply returned the pressure of her hand, lightly. Outside the window, Tokyo's night spread out endlessly. Somewhere in this city, someone still held the answers. Someone who knew what that mysterious voice on the phone had meant. But tonight, that was alright. (It's okay to be here.) For the first time, she truly felt it. This room in Shirogane—not as alienation, but as her own place. Just a little. That kind of night it was.