The new year had begun. January fourth, the first day back at work. The light streaming through the window of her Nakano apartment was white and cold, and even inside the heated room, Yui's fingertips stayed numb. Over the New Year's holiday, she hadn't gone home to her family, hadn't spoken to anyone—she'd just sat curled up in this tiny room, arms wrapped around her knees. The thing that kept spinning endlessly through her head was that voice she'd heard in the elevator. You, at least— The rest of it terrified her. She wanted to know, but she was terrified. Her resignation letter sat at the bottom of her bag. A white envelope, slightly creased from being pulled out and read over and over. She'd meant to hand it in today, but when she'd picked it up this morning, she hadn't been able to tear it up after all. When she got to the office, everything looked the same as always. The glass-walled building in Roppongi. The receptionist's voice in the lobby saying, "Happy New Year." The elevator's mechanical buzzer. Even the eighth-floor General Affairs floor, as if the quiet of the New Year's holiday had been a lie, was buzzing with people making the rounds of greetings and sorting through the first-of-the-year paperwork. "[gentle]Yui-san, I'm looking forward to working with you again this year." Sawada-senpai spoke to her with a quiet smile. His usual kind eyes lingered on her face just a little longer than normal. Probably because of the conversation they'd had at the end of last year. He'd told her, before you run away, make sure you get your answer. Those words had been pushing at her back ever since. "[gentle]Ah, yes. I'm looking forward to working with you too." Yui gave a small bow. She just hoped her voice wasn't shaking. Sawada looked like he wanted to say something else, but in the end, he just said, "Don't push yourself too hard," and went back to his desk. She didn't see Ren even once. He didn't even show up for the morning meeting, and he never came down from the executive floor. She couldn't even tell from the atmosphere on the floor whether he was working or not. As Yui faced her computer, she couldn't stop her awareness from drifting to the company messenger icon at the edge of her screen. No notifications. Quitting time came. She got ready to leave and pulled on her heavy coat. Today, nothing had happened. And that, in its own way, made the center of her chest ache coldly. She was trying to give up, but there was a part of her that couldn't quite let go. When she stepped outside, the January night wind bit at her cheeks. The illuminations on the Roppongi street trees had already been taken down, and the city had completely lost the giddy, year-end excitement. Just as she started to walk, her phone vibrated. She pulled it from her pocket. Her fingertips were so cold she couldn't swipe the screen properly. The message was from Ren. [I want to see you. Can you come to the Marunouchi office?] Just that one line. No emoji, not even an explanation like "there's something I want to talk about." But it wasn't his usual imperative "come." He'd said, "I want to see you." Yui stood frozen, staring at the screen. Her heart was so loud. (*If I go, I'll get my answer.*) (*I might get to hear the rest.*) (*Or maybe it'll all be over.*) She thought she heard the resignation letter in her bag rustle faintly. Yui pressed her lips together tightly and started walking toward Roppongi Station, to catch the train to Marunouchi. — The night view of Marunouchi was far quieter than Roppongi, cold and orderly. The lights spilling from the windows of the super-high-rise buildings melted into the night air. She spotted her destination immediately. A thirty-seven-story tower clad in black glass. The first-floor entrance was already closed, but when she showed the temporary access code attached to Ren's message to the security guard, he let her through without a word. The time it took the elevator to reach the thirty-seventh floor felt strangely long. When the doors opened, she found herself in a quiet hallway, with a single heavy-looking wooden door at the end. The nameplate simply read "Kazama Holdings." She raised her hand to knock, then stopped. (*Once I open this, there's no going back.*) (*I'll hear the answer.*) With trembling fingers, she knocked firmly on the door twice anyway. "[whispers]Come in." The room inside was much larger than she'd expected. One entire wall was a bookshelf that reached the ceiling, lined with spines from countries all over the world. Beyond a large window, the Tokyo nightscape spread out before her. There was a single desk and two leather sofas. The lighting was dim, creating quiet shadows in the corners of the room. Ren was standing. Unusually, he'd taken off his suit jacket and was just in a white shirt. His platinum silver hair was slightly disheveled—different from his usual perfectly put-together CEO appearance. With the night view through the window at his back, his blue eyes looked far deeper than usual. "[gentle]You can sit." Ren silently indicated the sofa. Yui gave a small nod and perched on the edge of it. She didn't even have the composure to take off her coat. Her fingertips were cold. Her bag was on her lap. For a while, Ren just looked out the window. The lights of distant buildings flickered quietly across his profile. Silence filled the room. (*I have to say something.*) She thought it, but her throat felt glued shut and wouldn't move. Finally, Ren spoke. "[serious]I'll tell you the rest. From last time." His voice was lower than usual. Still, it wasn't so much cold as it was a tone that seemed to be suppressing something. "[serious]You were right. At first, I was trying to use you." Yui's body stiffened with a jolt. "[serious]Eight years ago, my younger sister was hurt by a Rise Cosmetics product. She was left with a scar on her face that won't fade." She knew this. She'd heard it from Sawada. But hearing it from Ren's own mouth carried a weight beyond mere facts, pressing down on her chest. "[sad]Saya was twenty-two at the time. She'd just started her job, her whole life ahead of her. The company didn't admit responsibility. No compensation for the victim, no apology, nothing. Saya... she couldn't leave her room anymore. One night, she said to me, 'Onii-chan, I can't go outside anymore.'" Ren's voice cracked for the first time. "[sad]That's when I decided. I would destroy this company from the inside. For revenge, I spent five years preparing the acquisition. And then the acquisition was complete. I was going to have someone file an internal whistleblower report, expose the old management's misconduct. I was looking for a collaborator inside the company to help with that." Ren's fingers touched the window frame. Long, slender fingers. "[scared]Your photo was in the roster because I'd listed you as one of the candidates. A general staff position in General Affairs, easy access to internal company information, and... I looked into whether you'd be easy to use." So, after all, she'd been a tool at the start. Yui's eyes blurred with sudden tears. "[whispers]But." Ren slowly turned around. The nightscape lights from the window reflected off his hair, making it shine silver. His blue eyes caught Yui's directly. "[whispers]At the morning assembly, I saw you notice me and start trembling. After that, the first time I pinned you against the elevator wall... you cried." The memory of that day came back vividly. The shock of the man from that Ginza night appearing at the new CEO's morning assembly. And then, suddenly being kissed in the elevator—the fear, the confusion, and the heat she'd felt despite it all, the tears she couldn't stop. "[sad]After I saw those tears, I couldn't make you a tool anymore. I tried to remove you from the plan. But I couldn't let you go." Ren's brow was twisted. It was the first time Yui had ever seen that expression on his face, like he was enduring pain. "[whispers]I couldn't delete the photo in the roster. That was proof that I'd tried to just use you. If I deleted it, I could pretend none of it ever happened. But if I did that, I'd be lying to myself. So I left it there." Yui's vision warped with tears. It was all true. That he'd tried to use her, and that he'd agonized over it—all of it. "[crying]Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Her voice shook. Tears spilled over on their own, wetting her clenched fists on her lap. "[crying]I was in so much pain. I kept telling myself I didn't care if I was just a tool." Ren lowered his eyes slightly. "[sad]I was afraid of hurting you." It was a short sentence. But it made everything clear. She'd thought this man wouldn't hesitate to hurt someone for the sake of his revenge. But that wasn't it. He'd been afraid of hurting *her*. Yui opened her bag. She pulled out the white envelope and, with trembling hands, placed it on the table. "[crying]It's my resignation letter. I kept thinking I'd end things with this." Ren's eyes fixed on the envelope. And then, Yui grabbed the envelope with both hands and tore it. The sound of ripping tore through the silence. The envelope and the paper inside, torn in two, fell to the floor. "[crying]I'm not going to just be swept along anymore. I'll decide for myself." Yui stood up. Her face was a mess of tears, but she looked straight up at Ren. "[crying]Please, let me help you with your revenge." She bowed her head deeply. Silence. The sound of Ren's shoes approached. Cold fingers were placed gently on top of her head. "[whispers]Lift your head." His voice was hoarse. She thought he might be crying too, but Yui didn't raise her face. Ren's hand slowly stroked her hair. The gesture was hesitant, almost fearful, as if he were touching something fragile. "[whispers]Yui." He said her name. In that low, hoarse voice reserved only for the night, a voice she could never hear during the day. "[whispers]I won't hesitate anymore. You, at least, are different." —*You, at least, are different.* The continuation of the words that had been cut off in that elevator, quietly but surely, was now complete. Yui raised her face. In her tear-streaked cheeks, Ren's blue eyes were reflected, so gentle it almost hurt. That night, they just sat side by side on the sofa, taking turns talking—about Saya, and about Yui. Ren spoke quietly about the day his sister first saw her scar and collapsed in tears, about going to dozens of hospitals, about his mother's face when they gave up on the lawsuit. Yui spoke honestly about her own family, her regret over a life spent just being swept along, and the helpless loneliness of the night she first met Ren. They'd spent many nights tangled in each other's bodies. But this was the first night they'd bared their hearts. The lights in the buildings outside the window went out one by one. As the night deepened and the first hints of dawn drew near, Yui felt, for the first time, that she might be standing on equal ground with this man. — The next morning. During her lunch break, Yui was called out by Sawada to a café a short distance from the main office building. It was that little hidden-gem place, full of potted plants and with few customers. When she took her seat, there was already someone else there. "[cold]Sawada." Sawada quietly sat down across from Ren. His expression was taut; his usual gentle smile was absent. "[serious]I'm surprised to be summoned by the CEO himself." "[cold]I don't have much time. I'll get straight to the point." Without touching his coffee, Ren placed his phone on the table. "[serious]There are minutes from an October 2016 board meeting where the old management falsified toxicity test data. There's a high probability they still exist, encrypted, in an archived folder under General Affairs jurisdiction on the company's old server." Sawada's eyebrow twitched. "[serious]Why hasn't anyone noticed them until now?