Last night, she stood frozen before Renya's study door. There was no answer. And yet — in that moment, the silence beyond the door had changed. He was listening. Saura felt certain of it. Morning came. The morning in Shirokane-dai was quiet. The delicate branches of the weeping cherry in the courtyard swayed faintly in the winter light. From the kitchen came the sound of Yoshie Dojima's knife — rhythmic, composed. Clinging to that steady rhythm, Saura lowered herself into a chair at the dining table. The dining table seated twelve. But this morning, only Renya and Saura. Too vast. The emptiness felt like a mirror of the distance between them. Renya was already seated. A black casual shirt, a single document in hand. Even during breakfast, he wouldn't set work aside. His jet-black bangs fell slightly across his face. Seeing his profile, Saura quietly looked away. (Is he angry about yesterday?) Yoshie brought breakfast. Scrambled eggs, thick-cut toast, salad, consommé soup. Everything arranged with care. "[gentle]Please, madam. I used some rather fine butter on the toast today," "[gentle]Thank you so much……" Yoshie returned to the kitchen. Silence fell between them. Saura took a bite of toast. It was indeed delicious. But this morning, the taste wouldn't register. Then — a voice from the entrance. "Excuse me." Not a servant's voice. She recognized it. The dining room door opened. Deep crimson hair swayed gently in the morning light. Ruby-colored eyes scanned the room swiftly. Misaki Aoba entered with a smile, a white coat draped over her shoulders. The diamond earring in her right ear glimmered in the morning sun. "Good morning, Renya-sama. Saura-san," Her voice was sweet, carrying easily. She stood with the ease of someone for whom being here was always inevitable. Renya lifted his eyes from the document. His expression didn't change. But Saura felt his gaze grow fractionally colder. Misaki took a seat at the table, then glanced at Saura. "[sarcastic]How fortunate to see you this morning. ……Oh, Saura-san, your spoon grip — it's just slightly off, isn't it?" Saura looked down at her hands. Suddenly, she wasn't sure if she was holding it correctly. "[sarcastic]As the wife of the Aoba household, if you're to appear in society, such details matter. Shall I teach you? I was drilled in these things since childhood, so I can say with confidence," The tone was polite. But each word carried a thorn that pricked. (She's saying I'm just a commoner who wouldn't understand.) Thinking this, Saura said nothing. She couldn't find words to counter. Because it was true. Misaki continued. Table manners. Greetings in society. The etiquette of the "Star Mirror Night" that the Aoba family had attended for generations. Each point was something Saura didn't know. With each revelation of her ignorance, something heavy settled deeper in her chest. Renya listened in silence. He didn't return to his document, only stared straight ahead. What lay behind those eyes, Saura couldn't read. "[sarcastic]Speaking of which, the Hakuto Society — a social salon for the zaibatsu families — the ladies there always notice such details. How you choose your clothes, the timing of your pauses in conversation, how you move your eyes. All of it speaks to one's upbringing," The word "upbringing" dissolved slowly into the air. Saura pressed her lips together. She wouldn't cry. She wouldn't. But her chest ached. Then Misaki reached for a wine glass. She pulled the red wine bottle that sat decoratively at the table's edge toward herself — A soft splash. The glass tipped. Deep crimson liquid spilled across the tablecloth. And it splattered onto Saura's white blouse. "[surprised]Oh my!" Misaki's hand flew to her mouth. A look of surprise. But deep in her eyes — just barely — she was smiling. "[sarcastic]Saura-san, I'm so sorry. But……weren't you leaning forward just a moment ago? In such situations, one must pull back one's body……" "[cold]Misaki," A low voice. Just one word. But it cut through the air. Misaki's mouth stopped. Her ruby eyes trembled for the first time. "Leave," Renya's gaze fixed on Misaki. His eyes were empty of emotion. But beneath them lay an anger that could not be moved. "B-but Renya-sama, this was truly just carelessness——" "[cold]Now," Misaki stood. For just a moment, she looked at Saura. In that gaze lay frustration, and a panic she couldn't quite hide. Then she walked toward the door. Her coat hem swayed. The door closed. Silence fell. "[gentle]……Change your clothes. There are spare garments in my bedroom," Renya stood. Saura looked at the red stain spreading across her blouse, then slowly nodded. "Y-yes……I'm sorry for the trouble……" "Don't apologize," Walking down the hallway, Saura placed her hand over her chest. The blouse was damp. Cold. But what she felt now was more than that. ——Renya had gotten angry for her again. --- The second-floor hallway was quiet. Renya's bedroom door opened. "[serious]On the left side of the closet, there's a shirt hanging on a hanger. The size may not fit perfectly, but make do with it today," With only that, he left the room. Toward his study, probably. Saura stepped inside. Renya's bedroom was quieter than she'd imagined. White sheets, a bed with a black wooden frame. Nothing unnecessary. No decorations — only a single book stacked on the nightstand. That one book struck her as oddly unexpected. (What kind of books does he read?) She opened the closet. Clothes hung in perfect order. On the left, several white, thin shirts. Saura took one. She removed her blouse. In that moment, the door opened. "I need the——" His voice stopped. Saura froze. The shirt in her hand hung uselessly before her chest. She was in her undergarments. Renya had stopped as well. One second. Two seconds. His gaze moved — just for an instant — from her shoulders down to her waist. Then it looked away. "[cold]……My apologies," A low voice. With only that, he closed the door. From the hallway, a faint presence lingered. Then footsteps, quickly receding. Saura slowly pulled the shirt over her head. (He saw. He definitely saw.) Her face burned. Heat crept to the tips of her ears. And yet, something else occurred to her. ——Just before he left the hallway, she thought she saw his ears turn red. (His ears were……red.) Still in the shirt, Saura stood there for a while. It was too large — the shoulders slipped down. But somehow, the fabric felt strangely warm against her skin. (This is strange. I'm thinking odd things.) Yet her chest wouldn't settle. She couldn't quiet it. --- That night, a short message came from Renya. "Come to my office." Saura climbed to the third floor. The private office adjoining the library. She knocked, and a low voice answered, "Come in." Renya sat at his desk. His bangs were slightly disheveled. It must have been a long day. "Sit," Saura lowered herself into the chair before the desk. "[serious]Regarding Misaki — I will handle it from now on. Don't concern yourself with it," "But if I'm lacking in some way——" "[cold]You're not," She was cut off. Quietly, but decisively. "[serious]You're doing enough. What Misaki is doing is directed at me, not you. There's nothing wrong with you," Saura looked at his face. The usual composed expression. But his words carried weight — an inescapable, straightforward force. "……Why would you……" The words spilled out unbidden. "Why would you go so far for me……" Renya was silent for just a moment. "[serious]You are my wife. That is all," "It's a contract, isn't it," "……Yes," There was a beat before he answered. Just one beat. But Saura heard it. Renya's gaze fell to the desk. He said nothing more. Saura couldn't speak either. But something remained in her chest. This morning's anger. The red ears at midday. And now, that single beat of silence. They all layered quietly within her. (What is he really thinking……?) She didn't know. Yet not knowing, her chest wouldn't settle. She still couldn't quite put a name to this restlessness. "You may go for the night," "[gentle]……Yes. Good night," Saura stood and walked toward the door. As she opened it, she glanced back. Renya was still facing the desk, picking up a document. His profile seemed somehow softer than usual. Perhaps it was her imagination. But it seemed that way. She stepped into the hallway and closed the door. The Aoba mansion on a winter night was quiet. The marble floor was cold. But the very center of her chest remained faintly warm. ——Tomorrow, Misaki might come again. And yet Renya had said what he said. That was enough for tonight. Thinking this, Saura made her way to her room. At the corner of the hallway, her steps paused. Another thought had crossed her mind. Misaki had "knocked over" the wine glass today. But yesterday's coffee had "slipped." Coincidence twice over. That wasn't all — each time Misaki moved, it felt as though someone somewhere was arranging circumstances. The night the security camera footage disappeared — that matter still wasn't settled. (Something is moving within this mansion.) It was a thin premonition. But it wouldn't fade.