The train screeched into a stop at the countryside station. The clock above the platform read 3:00 PM.
As the doors slid open, I stepped out with my small bag slung across my shoulder. The air here felt different cleaner, sharper, like it had been untouched by the filth of the city. The scent of pine and earth filled my lungs.
And then I saw her.
Standing tall near the edge of the platform, dressed in a simple but elegant indigo kimono, her hair pinned gracefully, her presence demanded respect without a single word. Her eyes, sharp yet warm, locked onto me the moment I appeared.
"Haruto."
"Grandmother…"
For a moment, I hesitated. It had been months since I'd last seen her. But when she opened her arms, I stepped forward. Her embrace was firm, commanding, yet filled with warmth that made my chest tighten.
"You've grown thinner," she said, pulling back to study my face. "Are you eating properly? Your eyes look tired."
I forced a smile. "Travel wasn't too hard."
She gave me a look that pierced right through my act but didn't press further. Instead, she gestured toward the waiting car.
"Come. You need rest."
The ride lasted only fifteen minutes, but each turn of the road pulled me deeper into her world. Rows of cedar trees lined the path, and then suddenly the trees parted and I saw it.
Her house. No, her estate.
A traditional Japanese mansion, larger than anything I had imagined. White walls framed by dark timber, sliding glass doors that reflected the setting sun, and a sprawling garden filled with stone lanterns, koi ponds, and perfectly pruned pines. It wasn't just wealth it was dignity carved into wood and stone.
I froze at the entrance, bag in hand.
"I… didn't know it was this big."
She glanced at me, one corner of her lips lifting slightly. "I've worked too hard to live in small places. When you carry family and business alone for decades, you learn to build walls tall enough to protect everything."
I followed her inside. The floors gleamed with polished cedar, the halls lined with hanging scrolls of ink paintings. Servants bowed as we passed.
"Welcome home, young master," one greeted politely.
My chest tightened. I had never been called that before.
"Your room is prepared," Sumire said, leading me upstairs. Sliding the door open, I stepped inside.
It was bigger than my entire bedroom back home. Tatami mats, a futon laid neatly, a writing desk near the window overlooking the garden. On the low table sat fresh flowers in a vase.
I set my bag down, almost nervous to touch anything.
"Freshen up," she said. "I'll have dinner prepared. You must be hungry."
I bowed slightly. "Thank you, Grandmother."
When she left, I exhaled. My reflection in the mirror looked… different here. Almost like I didn't belong.
I washed up in the adjoining bathroom, the water shockingly warm, steam curling around me. For a moment, I let it wash away the fatigue of trains, exams, and humiliation. But it couldn't wash away their voices still clawing at my mind.
When I returned to my room, I unpacked slowly. Clothes folded into drawers, notebooks stacked neatly. I sat at the desk and finally unlocked my phone.
20+ unread messages.
All from Miyuki.
> "Where are you?"
"You didn't reply yesterday…"
"Haruto, please talk to me."
"I'm worried."
"Souta said-"
I stopped there. My lips curled in a bitter smile.
So now she cared? Now, when I was gone?
But I knew my role. To keep the mask. To act like the boyfriend she wanted. Until the day the mask would shatter in front of everyone.
I typed back carefully.
"I'm okay. I'll be away for 15 days. Don't worry."
I sent it. Put the phone face down. And let my thoughts settle.
Play along. Gather evidence. Expose them when the time is right.
That was the plan. And for the first time, my mind didn't waver.
A servant's voice called from the hall. "Dinner is ready."
When I entered the dining room, my eyes widened.
The table was filled with dishes perfectly grilled fish, steaming miso soup, sashimi arranged like art, freshly cooked rice, seasonal vegetables. The aroma was overwhelming.
Sumire sat at the head of the table, her posture flawless, chopsticks already in hand. She gestured for me to sit.
"Eat," she said simply.
I sat and took my first bite. The flavor burst across my tongue. For weeks, my meals had been rushed, bland, lifeless. This… this was warmth itself.
Without realizing, my eyes watered.
"Too salty?" she asked calmly.
I shook my head quickly. "No… it's perfect."
She studied me quietly, then asked, "What happened, Haruto? Your father said you needed rest. That you collapsed."
I lowered my gaze. "Exams. I… didn't do well. And I pushed too hard."
Her eyes narrowed. "Is that all?"
The truth burned in my throat, but I swallowed it. "For now… yes."
Silence stretched. Then she nodded slowly. "Rest here. Use this house however you like. If you want, walk in the gardens. Watch television. I'll also leave money for you."
"I don't need-"
"You will take it," she interrupted, her tone firm but not unkind. "Fifty thousand yen. Use it. Freedom requires means."
"…Thank you," I whispered.
For a moment, her eyes softened, almost sad. "You remind me of your mother when she was young. Always carrying everything alone. Never asking for help. That path… is dangerous."
Her words cut deeper than I expected.
We finished the meal quietly, and she soon left for her office, a briefcase in hand.
The house grew quiet as night settled. The garden lanterns lit the pathways outside, their glow casting long shadows across the walls.
I sat at the desk in my room, notebook open.
One by one, I wrote the clues Valkyrie had shown me.
Mother with Souta.
Miyuki leaning toward Souta.
Souta mocking me behind my back.
My funeral.
Each word burned as I wrote, but instead of breaking me, it sharpened me.
I tapped the pen against the paper. "Evidence. Proof. I'll gather everything. When the moment comes, I'll tear the mask from all of them."
For the first time, my mind didn't wander. No doubt. No hesitation. Just determination.
I closed the notebook and leaned back, staring at the ceiling.
Valkyrie's words echoed.
"Revenge… or rot."
I smirked. "Then revenge it is."
The clock ticked softly in the quiet room.
I pulled the blanket over myself, but sleep didn't come immediately.
Instead, I kept thinking of Sumire's eyes sharp, proud, yet carrying a loneliness I couldn't quite name. She was strong. Stronger than anyone I knew. And maybe, here in this house, I could learn to be like her.
The mansion creaked softly as the night deepened.
I closed my eyes. Tomorrow, I would begin.
For now, the darkness waited.
And inside that darkness, Valkyrie's laughter still echoed faintly.