The words Renia had spoken in the study last night still lingered in the corner of her mind. "You're doing enough." Simple. Unadorned. And yet that single phrase continued to glow quietly, warmly, deep within Saira's chest. Beyond the window, winter clouds hung gray over Shirokane, and the residential streets seemed to hold their breath in silence. As she climbed the stairs to the third floor, Saira found herself tugging slightly at the sleeve of her cardigan—a small habit that surfaced whenever she was nervous. Today, Renia hadn't called for her. The maid Tsugumi had simply relayed a message: "Please help organize the secretary's office on the third floor." But it had come with one addition: "This is an instruction from Master Renia." *(What kind of work could it be?)* When she reached the landing and stepped into the hallway, the secretary's office door stood slightly ajar. She could sense someone inside. Saira knocked. "Come in." A calm voice. Familiar. The moment she opened the door, Saira felt a small jolt of surprise. Standing in the secretary's office was Ryosuke Takashiro. The same black suit as always. His jet-black semi-long hair tucked behind his ear, the black ear cuff on his right ear catching the fluorescent light. Long fingers were unsealing a large cardboard box, from which bundles of documents were visible, stacked high. Three columns of cargo, each nearly a meter tall, lined the walls of the room. "Excuse me..." "[gentle]Ah, Miss Mochizuki. Thank you for coming." Ryosuke gave a slight bow. Not smiling, but his expression wasn't rigid either. Compared to the wounded look he'd worn in front of the study not long ago, he seemed remarkably composed today. "The chairman asked me to request your assistance with document sorting. However—" Ryosuke glanced briefly at the mountain of papers. "There's quite a volume. If it seems too difficult, you're welcome to decline." "[serious]...I'll give it a try." Declining had never been an option to begin with. 　* The volume of documents was truly staggering. Contracts, purchase orders, approval memos—just at a glance, they fell into three categories. Looking more closely, they needed to be classified by client. Silverstone Group's trading partners numbered in the hundreds. The dates were scattered everywhere—documents from 2018 mixed casually with those from 2022. *(More complex than the filing at Nagi Corporation... but the structure is similar.)* Saira found herself remembering her days at Nagi Corporation. At a small trading company with thirty employees, a single administrative worker wore many hats. Document sorting, number verification, vendor contact—that was precisely the work Saira had handled. Once her fingers began moving, her mind naturally followed. First pass: sort by vendor name. Second: organize by fiscal year. Third: subdivide by document type. Ryosuke worked beside her, occasionally glancing at her hands. "[surprised]...By what criteria are you sorting those?" "Ah, well... I'm first dividing by the first two digits of the vendor code into major categories, then arranging them by fiscal year within each, and finally subdividing by document type. If you look at this A-4 folder, the index shows—" "May I see it?" Ryosuke took the index and scanned it. There was a brief pause. "[surprised]...The consistency is perfect. Did you check the vendor code reference table?" "Yes, I did. I confirmed it right at the start. It was that clear file on the left end of the shelf." Ryosuke looked toward the shelf. The reference table's clear file was indeed there—something Saira had found within the first three minutes of entering the room. "[gentle]To be honest, I didn't expect you to work this quickly and accurately. Your experience at Nagi Corporation is really showing." "Oh, no, that's not... I'm just used to this kind of work." "Even so, adapting immediately to unfamiliar document formats isn't easy." The phrasing was almost too polite. At first, she'd thought it might be mere courtesy. But there was no embarrassment or exaggeration in Ryosuke's face—just a straightforward assessment. *(This person... doesn't offer empty compliments.)* Something inside Saira loosened slightly. Since arriving at the Aoba residence, there had been few moments when she felt truly useful. During etiquette training, she'd been pointed out for her shortcomings. Misaki had constantly questioned her aptitude. But here, in this room, the knowledge she possessed was being put to practical use. That sensation spread quietly through her chest. 　* About an hour in, Ryosuke set down his work. "[gentle]Shall we take a break? Some tea, perhaps?" "Ah, yes... Thank you, I'm sorry." "You don't need to apologize." The bluntness of it made Saira almost laugh. It was the same as Renia. The way they used the words "don't apologize" was subtly different, though. Ryosuke moved to a small table by the window and picked up a sheet of paper. He hadn't opened it intending to speak—his hand had simply moved. But when Saira sat beside him, he naturally began to talk. "The chairman's office is on the forty-second floor of the Aoba Tower. Are you aware of it?" "Yes, somewhat... I've been there once." "From there, you can see Tokyo Bay. On clear days, all the way to the Boso Peninsula. The chairman looks at that view every morning before starting work. He says it helps him organize his thoughts." "Renia talks about things like that?" "He tells me sometimes. I doubt he speaks of it to anyone else." Ryosuke's tone carried a subtle warmth when speaking of Renia—not loyalty or respect exactly, but something more personal. A trust built over long years. "[gentle]The chairman appears cold, I know. He is, in fact, a frightening person." Saira nodded. She couldn't deny it. "But I've never known anyone with a stronger sense of responsibility than him. Since that time when the family wavered, he's carried everything, inherited the management rights—and sealed away his emotions for a reason." The bankruptcy incident involving Takaaki Aoba—Renia's father had driven the group to the brink of collapse. Saira had heard fragments of that story. *(That's what made him the 'Ice Emperor'.)* "[gentle]So when you remain steady at his side, Miss Mochizuki, I find myself... somewhat reassured." "...Me? Remaining steady?" "Yes. I believe you're the most genuine person in the Aoba residence." The word *genuine* fell slowly through her chest. In that moment, Ryosuke reached for the papers and turned toward her. The distance between them narrowed—and their shoulders touched. Just for an instant. A fleeting contact through fabric. Ryosuke immediately stepped back. "[gentle]My apologies." "Oh, n-no..." It was nothing. Truly nothing. But Saira's cheeks flushed with warmth. The way Ryosuke had apologized—so carefully, so formally—and the distance he'd created... somehow, it caught in her chest. Then the door opened without a knock. "[cold]...Here?" It was Renia. His jet-black bangs were slightly disheveled, one button of his suit jacket left undone. His entrance was rougher than usual. His obsidian eyes swept across the room—and paused, just slightly, where Saira and Ryosuke stood side by side. "I need to check some documents." "Which documents, sir?" "...I'll tell you later." Ryosuke's eyes narrowed for just a moment. He said nothing. But his gaze seemed to read: *You have no actual business here, do you?* Renia looked at the stacked documents, then at Saira—just once, a glance that lasted less than a second. "How's the work going?" "Um... yes, I'm doing my best..." "[serious]Miss Mochizuki's processing speed is more than twice what we anticipated. We should finish in half the planned time." "I see." The response was curt. He didn't look at Saira, didn't look at Ryosuke—just scanned the room—when a familiar voice drifted in from the hallway. "My, there you are!" Yoshie Dojima entered carrying a tray. Her salt-and-pepper bob swayed, her indigo eyes surveying everyone in the room. "I've brought tea. Oh, Chairman, you're here too. How wonderful that everyone's getting along so well~" Yoshie set the tray on the small table, then glanced briefly at Ryosuke. "[sarcastic]Ryosuke, you're not giving our lady a hard time, are you?" "[serious]I would never." Ryosuke answered with such earnestness that Saira almost laughed. Yoshie smiled sweetly. "Yes, yes, I'm sure. Just joking. But my lady, your face is a bit flushed. Are you feeling alright?" "Oh, ah... the room might be a little warm." "Is that so? Then let me open a window." As Yoshie casually opened a window, she glanced once at Renia. She said nothing, but her eyes seemed to ask: *Chairman, what exactly are you doing here?* Renia exhaled sharply. "[cold]...I'll check the documents later. Continue with your work." "Understood." Renia looked at Saira. A glance that lasted less than a second. "[serious]Don't overexert yourself." With only that, he left. The door closed quietly behind him. Yoshie let out a small "my, my" and handed Saira a cup of tea. "[gentle]Here you are. Green tea. It'll warm you right up." 　* As evening approached and the work neared completion, Saira walked down the hallway beside Ryosuke. The short corridor from the secretary's office to the stairs. Outside the window, dusk painted the rooftops of Shirokane's houses in shades of orange. "[gentle]Thank you so much for today. You've truly been a great help." "No, I should be thanking you... It's been a while since I felt like I was actually useful." "Useful is an understatement." Ryosuke paused thoughtfully. "I believe you're a necessary person in the Aoba residence." "...What?" "Not just in terms of work ability. The atmosphere of this house has changed since you arrived. In a gentler direction." There was something warmer mixed into Ryosuke's usual crisp tone. Saira couldn't speak. She searched for words but found none. She only felt them falling slowly through her chest. Just as they rounded the corner of the hallway, a figure appeared ascending the stairs below. Deep crimson long hair. Gentle waves. Ruby-colored eyes that smiled the moment they saw the two of them above. "Oh. Together, are we?" It was Misaki Aoba. She wore a white coat today, her presence filling the hallway. "I was simply providing work-related guidance." "Work-related, I see." Misaki slowly looked between Saira and Ryosuke. Her eyes moved as if calculating something. "[sarcastic]Ryosuke, you're awfully kind to Saira, aren't you?" "[serious]It's merely work-related support." "I see." Misaki's lips curved slightly upward. She didn't say *Just that?* But her eyes asked it anyway. Saira's spine went cold. Misaki said "Until later" and continued down the hallway. Her coat's hem swayed gently. Saira found herself unable to look away until Misaki disappeared around the corner. *(What was she thinking, looking at us like that?)* Ryosuke said nothing. He only looked once in the direction Misaki had gone, then turned forward again. 　* Night fell. Saira lay on the bed in her assigned room, staring at the ceiling. White. High. Somehow more familiar now than on that first morning. She traced through the day's events slowly. The satisfaction of sorting documents. The renewed sense of being useful. Ryosuke's disarmingly honest evaluation. That brief moment when their shoulders touched—that fleeting distance. And then—*You are a necessary person in this residence.* Those words. *(Ryosuke is... so considerate and kind.)* Her chest felt warm. Not unpleasantly so. Rather, comfortably. But. Another scene surfaced in her mind. The moment Renia had entered the secretary's office. He'd come in with a flimsy excuse, though he had no real business there. The way his face had hardened when he saw Saira and Ryosuke standing together. That look—emotions