By the time Kouga clocked out that evening, the sky had already darkened, city lights flickering to life. He checked his phone only to see a missed call—and a message—from Raiden Ryoma himself.
"Come by. Need to talk."
Kouga sighed. When a man like Ryoma "needed to talk," it usually wasn't optional.
At the Raiden estate, Kouga sat stiffly across from Ryoma in his private study. The older man poured himself a drink before speaking.
"Kouga, mind explaining why my daughter suddenly insisted I give you a raise?"
Kouga blinked, completely caught off guard. "…What?"
Ryoma raised a brow. "Don't play dumb. Mei said you needed more support."
Kouga's expression hardened. Without another word, he pulled out his phone and dialed Kiana. After a few rings, she answered with her usual upbeat voice.
"Yo, Kouga! What's up?"
"Kiana… did you tell Mei something?" Kouga asked flatly.
There was a brief pause, then she cheerfully replied, "Ohhh, that! Yeah, Mei-chan said your house looked a little, uh, unloved. She told me she'd ask her dad to bump up your income so you could 'live more comfortably.' Nice, right?"
Kouga closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. "...So it was just because of that."
Turning back to Ryoma, he explained, "It's a misunderstanding. The outside looks old, but the inside is spotless. No dust, nothing out of place."
Ryoma chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Ahh, I see. Mei's sharp-eyed but a little too quick to judge sometimes. Still… her heart was in the right place."
Kouga gave a small nod. "I'll clear it up with her tomorrow."
The next day.
The cafeteria buzzed with lunchtime chatter as Kouga, Mei, and Kiana sat together again. Kiana happily dug into the bento Kouga had prepared, while Mei turned her violet gaze toward him.
"So… did Father give you the raise?" she asked casually.
Kouga set his chopsticks down, meeting her eyes. "Raiden-san, what you saw was only the outside. The inside of the house is clean. Immaculately clean. No dust, no mess. I take care of it."
Mei blinked, a faint pink dusting her cheeks. "O-Oh. I see. Then… I might have overstepped."
Kiana leaned over with a grin. "Yup! Kouga's a clean freak. You could eat off his floor."
"Don't exaggerate," Kouga muttered, though his ears burned slightly at their teasing.
Mei smiled softly. "Still… I'm glad. I just wanted to make sure you weren't overworking yourself."
For a moment, Kouga's stoic mask faltered. He looked away, picking up his chopsticks again. "…Thanks."
Kiana, noticing the subtle warmth between them, immediately puffed her cheeks. "H-Hey! Don't think I'm letting my rival get ahead this easily!"
Both Kouga and Mei turned to her, and Kouga sighed. "…Here we go again."
The days blurred together in a rhythm Kouga had grown used to. School, quiet lunches with Mei, evenings at ME Corp, and the occasional groaning protest from Kiana about homework. It was stable. Predictable. Almost peaceful.
Until that day.
The morning began no differently than usual. Kouga rose with the sun, his motions practiced and steady as he moved around the kitchen. Rice, grilled fish, fried egg, fruit—enough to keep Kiana full through the day. He slid the bento neatly into the fridge before glancing toward the stairs. From the corner of his eye, he caught the soft tuft of silver-white hair peeking from beneath Kiana's futon blanket upstairs. She was still sound asleep, her breathing steady.
He allowed himself a faint smile before leaving for school.
Classes came and went. Under the shade of the sakura tree, he and Mei shared their usual lunch. The talks between them flowed more easily now, comfortable and warm. Mei laughed when Kouga admitted he used to burn toast every morning; Kouga smiled faintly when she revealed she liked listening to piano music in the evenings. Little things. Normal things.
Later, Kouga headed to ME Corp. He badged in, reported at the lobby, and expected another uneventful shift. But then—
He saw her.
A tall woman, platinum hair pulled into a severe twist, stood at the reception desk like she owned the building. Her cold eyes cut across the room, unamused, commanding. Beside her stood a girl—no more than thirteen—dressed in a black military-styled uniform far too sharp for her age. The short, silver-gray hair and crimson eyes gave her an uncanny air of composure.
The woman turned sharply as soon as she spotted him."You. You work here?"
"I do," Kouga answered evenly.
"Take me to Ryoma Raiden. Now."
Kouga frowned at her blunt tone. "May I ask who's requesting?"
"Cocolia," she replied. "He'll know."
His gaze flicked to the girl. "And she is…?"
"My daughter," came the curt reply.
Kouga didn't push. He reached for his comm and reported in. A terse order came back almost immediately:
"Send her up."
He gestured toward the elevator. "This way."
Inside, silence lingered until the girl spoke, voice soft but deliberate:"You are not staff. Not in uniform."
"I'm temporary. Logistics. Kouga," he said without looking at her.
She blinked once. "Bronya Zaychik."
"Pleasure," Kouga replied.
Cocolia remained silent, arms crossed, foot tapping against the lift floor.
The doors opened onto the executive level, and Kouga led them to the double doors. They walked inside without so much as a nod of thanks. The doors closed, leaving him outside. He turned to leave.
But then—
A faint vibration brushed his ear. He stilled. One of his abilities—heightened hearing—picked up words he wasn't meant to hear.
"Ryoma, listen to me! Project MEI is the only path to controlling a Herrscher—you're making a fatal mistake!"
A sharp answer snapped back.
"I will never sacrifice my daughter to the Honkai just to satisfy your obsession!"
Kouga froze. Daughter? Herrscher? Project MEI… Mei?
He didn't know the full story—just fragments. But those fragments were heavy, dangerous. Too dangerous.
He forced himself to walk away, blending back into routine before anyone noticed.
Minutes later, the elevator opened again. Cocolia stormed out, face dark as a thunderhead, with Bronya trailing silently behind like a ghost in her wake. Kouga leaned casually against a wall, pretending to check his phone, eyes following them.
Then Ryoma's voice cut sharply into his earpiece:
"Kouga. Notify security—Cocolia is no longer welcome here. Flag her restricted, effective immediately."
Kouga's brow twitched. That was no small order. That was final.
He tapped his comm. "Understood."
He watched silently as the glass doors slid shut behind them. Bronya's crimson eyes lingered a second longer than her mother's storming glare—calm, unreadable—before disappearing into the city night.
Only then did Kouga exhale, slow and steady.
But something tell him, with cold certainty, that the days ahead would not remain peaceful.