The morning light cast a cold glow over the cluster of high-rises in Roppongi. The February air was still freezing, turning every exhale white. Amano Yui stood before the Rise Cosmetics headquarters building. Same arrival time as always. Same suit as always. But the resignation letter was no longer in her bag. In its place, deep in her chest, was a small, hard resolve. (Today.) She passed through the entrance and held up her employee ID. The receptionist gave a stiff smile and bowed with a "Good morning." The air was different. The usual office buzz was taut and prickly this morning. Something was about to happen — and every face in the room seemed to sense it. When she reached the General Affairs department on the eighth floor, Sawada Takumi was already at his desk. Short black hair, gentle brown eyes — her *senpai*. He looked at Yui's face, narrowed his eyes just slightly behind his glasses, and gave a quiet nod. "[gentle]Morning, Yui-san. ...Did you get any sleep?" "[serious]Yes. A little." A lie. She had barely slept. She had checked the contents of the USB drive over and over, replayed Ren's words in her mind again and again, and simply waited for dawn to break. Sawada was probably the same. Faint dark circles hung beneath his eyes. "[serious]Nine o'clock, in the large conference room on the eighteenth floor. An emergency all-hands town hall meeting. So today... he's coming. The president." Coming. Without a doubt. Yui believed that. Sawada let out a breath, then murmured, as if telling himself: "[whispers]...It's been a long fight." Past tense. But they both knew: the end began here. Nine in the morning. The large conference room on the eighteenth floor was filled with a strange, feverish heat. Nearly six hundred employees sat in rows of folding chairs crammed into the space, buzzing with bewildered expressions. The heart of the executive floor, a place most rarely even set foot in. The massive screen covering one wall gleamed black, still showing nothing. Yui sat beside Sawada, in a seat against the wall. She clasped her hands tightly on her lap. Her fingers were cold. (Changing someone's life.) (Exposing someone's crimes.) To say she wasn't afraid would be a lie. The murmuring fell silent in an instant. Kazama Ren stood on the stage. His platinum-silver hair gleamed harder than ever under the conference room's cold fluorescent lights. A tall frame of 185 centimeters. Sharp, cold blue eyes like a frozen lake. He stepped before the microphone and, for just a moment, looked straight ahead. His usual cold, expressionless mask. But Yui understood. (He's fighting right now.) "[serious]Today, I will show you all the facts." His low voice resonated through the silent conference room. He operated the remote in his hand. The large screen flared white. What appeared was a single document. October 2016, Board of Directors Meeting Minutes. At the top, the company name and date. And in the center — *"The interim report on toxicity testing contained results corresponding to Skin Irritation Grade 3. However, in consideration of the sales schedule, the publication of said test results and their inclusion in the final report shall be deferred."* A resolution. Below it, a line of signatures. The signatures of the directors at that time. The room froze. Dozens of seconds of absolute silence. Everyone stared up at the screen, unable to move. Their understanding couldn't catch up. That product accident had been a cover-up — how could that be possible? Someone gasped, a soft rustle of breath. The next instant, chaos erupted through the room like a stick thrust into a hornet's nest. "Wh-what is this...?!" "You're kidding...!" "That accident... was covered up...?!" Voices, screams, shouts of anger — all mingled together. Yui was trembling. Her vision, looking up at the screen, blurred with tears. The files from that hidden room, the ones she had copied. The data on that USB drive — it was becoming reality, right now, in this moment. (I did it.) (I became the final piece of his revenge.) Beside her, Sawada's hand gently touched hers. For just a moment, he squeezed it. "[gentle]You did good." A small, trembling voice. Yui tried to nod. But her neck wouldn't move. Instead, tears spilled over. One drop, then another. They made small stains on her skirt. She couldn't stop them. On the stage, Ren continued. "[cold]The management of that time concealed this fact and refused adequate compensation to the victims. Today, simultaneously with the release of this evidence, our company will issue a formal apology to the victims' association and begin negotiations for damages." His voice did not waver in the slightest. But Yui understood. Beneath that voice, Ren was suppressing eight years of rage and grief. That afternoon, a press conference was held. The venue was the showroom on the first floor of the headquarters building. In the wide space surrounded by white walls, television cameras lined up in rows, flashes firing incessantly. Reporters from every outlet had swarmed the place. There was no way the media would pass up the scoop of misconduct by the former management. On the stage, Ren explained the facts dispassionately. Projections of the evidence, explanations from a legal perspective. His presentation was flawless, without a single opening. The usual face of the cold, ruthless president. Yui stood leaning against the wall in the very back row of the press seating. As a member of the General Affairs department, she had been mobilized for behind-the-scenes work at today's conference. (He can finally...) His revenge was ending. And yet, Ren's expression remained hard. Something is still missing — that's what his face seemed to say to Yui. Near the end of the conference, Ren paused for a moment, then spoke quietly. "[serious]Finally, there is one person I would like to introduce to you all." The atmosphere in the room shifted. From the wings of the stage, a young woman slowly walked out. A beige scarf hid her face from her cheeks to her chin. Even so, traces of scars she couldn't fully conceal peeked through. She looked about twenty-eight. Her platinum-silver hair was the same color as her brother's. Her eyes, far gentler than her brother's, were brown — yet conveyed a sense of inner strength. Kazama Saya. Ren's younger sister. The room fell utterly silent. The camera flashes ceased for a moment. Saya looked straight ahead. Standing before countless cameras and countless gazes, she bit her lip, just slightly. Then she opened her mouth. "[gentle]My brother —" Her voice was small. But unmistakably strong. "[gentle]My brother didn't want revenge. He just wanted to make sure someone like me would never be hurt again. For eight years, I think that was the only thing on his mind." Yui's vision blurred. (Ah, I see.) (The rest of the words he started to say —) (She knows all of them.) On the screen, Ren's profile dipped for just a fleeting moment. That lonely profile. For the first time today, it began to soften. Yui put a hand against the wall and desperately held herself together. She felt like crying. But she couldn't cry here. It wasn't over yet. Evening, after the press conference ended and every media outlet began running breaking news. The General Affairs floor was wrapped in quiet excitement and confusion. Clusters of employees gathered here and there, whispering as they looked at the news on their smartphones. In a single day, the world had changed — every face said it. Yui stepped out into the hallway. In a deserted spot, she let out one long breath. "[gentle]Yui-san." She turned to find Sawada standing there. The usual calm face of her *senpai*. But in his eyes, the exhaustion of the day and something else lingered. "[gentle]Good work today." He said it with a small smile. But that smile didn't turn gentle the way it always did. It was the face of someone desperately trying to swallow something down. "[sad]It's thanks to you fighting alongside me, Senpai." When Yui said that, Sawada quietly shook his head. "[whispers]I... was always worried about you, Yui-san. But... that wasn't all it was." Yui lost her words. For just an instant, Sawada's eyes grew warm. The gentle brown behind his glasses gazed straight at Yui. The name of the emotion dwelling there — Yui already knew it. But he immediately averted his eyes. "[sad]But... after seeing his face today... I can't say it." He murmured that, then started walking ahead. "[gentle]Tomorrow's another early day. Please get some good rest." His voice over his shoulder was already the voice of her usual *senpai*. For a while, Yui couldn't move from the hallway. The weight of receiving Sawada's feelings head-on. And yet, her own feelings for Ren did not waver. (Am I being unfair?) The twilight light streamed through the hallway window, stretching Yui's shadow long. Past ten at night. Her smartphone buzzed. *Come to the first place tonight.* A short message from Ren. No emoji, no sentiment like "I want to see you." Just the bare minimum of words. But that was enough. Yui headed to the fifth floor of a multi-tenant building in Ginza. A hidden-gem bar, "Midnight Blue." Dark blue lighting quietly enveloped the interior. A small place with only eight counter seats and two private booths. Closed on Mondays, the bar was open tonight just for the two of them. Ren sat at the end of the counter. The same spot as that first night they met. His platinum-silver hair was slightly disheveled, perhaps from the fatigue of the day's battle. He had taken off his suit jacket and was in just his white shirt. In his hand, a glass of amber whiskey. The bartender, Sakamoto, wordlessly placed a cocktail in front of Yui. The same pale pink color as that night. The old bartender probably knew everything. But he said nothing. That was the way of this place. Yui settled onto the stool next to Ren. Silence flowed. In the distance, the small sound of ice clinking against glass. "[whispers]The night we first met, I said just for tonight." Ren spoke abruptly. Holding his glass, his blue eyes stared at the amber liquid. "[whispers]I want to take that back." Yui looked up. Ren's blue eyes looked straight at her. Those eyes were not the usual cold lake. They were deeper, hotter, and held a trace of fear — eyes like that. "[whispers]Day and night, from here on, I won't hide anything. ...Stay by my side." His low voice flew straight into the depths of Yui's chest. The center of her chest grew slowly, steadily warm. (Ah.) (This is the answer.) Yui didn't hesitate — surprising even herself. "[gentle]Yes." She wasn't the self of that night, nodding along with the flow. It was a single word she could say in her own voice, by her own will. Ren's hand set the glass down on the counter. His long fingers tilted Yui's chin up. Slowly, but surely, their lips met. Deeper than that night's kiss, gentle, and carrying an irrevocable sweetness. Ren's lips quietly enveloped the faint trembling of Yui's lips. She closed her eyes. Their breaths mingled. The tips of their noses touched — ticklish. Mid-kiss, Yui laughed, just a little. Ren's brows drew together, ever so slightly, in displeasure. "[whispers]...Don't laugh." His voice held the faintest hint of a sulk. That was so funny that Yui laughed again, softly. (So he makes faces like this too.) (He even uses a voice like that.) For the first time, a soft atmosphere bloomed between them. Sakamoto quietly wiped the counter. The tactful old bartender pretended not to see anything, simply continuing to polish the glasses. When they stepped out of the bar, the night streets of Ginza were cold and clear. Neon lights reflected off the wet asphalt, as if fragments of stars had fallen there. Ren took Yui's hand and was about to hail a taxi — at that very moment. Both of their smartphones chimed with