Yui's mind remained restless the entire way. The necklace lay heavy in her sling bag, as though it carried more than silver—it carried weight she couldn't quite define.
By the time she returned Mei to her home and offered a gentle smile to the girl's parents, her exhaustion seeped in. Mei had clung to her briefly before finally letting go, still half-asleep. Watching the child go made Yui's heart ache, though she wasn't sure why. Maybe because she could still feel Haruto's kiss on Mei's forehead, the gentleness of it still lingering in her thoughts.
When she reached her apartment, the hallway was quiet. Unlocking the door, she stepped into the dimly lit room. The air smelled faintly of laundry detergent and her brother's cologne.
A folded note was left on the dining table.
Yui's brows furrowed as she picked it up. The handwriting was unmistakably Masaru's.
"I have a business meeting out of town. I'll be gone for a few days. Don't worry—I've arranged for someone to check on you. Shoji Hayashi, my friend's younger brother. He'll stop by from time to time. Don't stay up too late. – Masaru"
Yui's lips parted. "Shoji… Hayashi?"
The name didn't immediately click, but she sighed softly, pressing the note down. A part of her wanted to call Masaru and scold him for deciding things without asking her, but another part of her knew he only meant to protect her.
Still… the timing felt suffocating.
She pulled out her phone and dialed Masaru anyway. The call connected after a few rings.
"Yui?" Masaru's voice was brisk, muffled by background chatter that suggested he was indeed at some business dinner.
"You left a note," Yui said quietly. "I saw it when I came in."
"Mm. I figured you'd worry if I just disappeared," Masaru replied, his voice softer now. "Listen, I won't be home for a few days. This meeting… it's important. I've already asked Shoji to look out for you while I'm gone. He's reliable."
Yui's throat tightened. "You didn't have to—"
"I did," Masaru cut her off gently. "You're my sister. I can't just leave you alone when things are like this."
Things. The word held weight. Yui bit her lip. Masaru didn't know the full truth of Haruto, but he knew enough about the Kuroya family's dangerous aura. Enough to worry.
"Take care of yourself, okay?" Masaru added.
"…Okay." Her voice was small.
When the call ended, the silence of the apartment pressed down again.
Yui set her phone aside and sat on the sofa, her fingers automatically slipping into her sling bag. The necklace was still there, its smooth surface cool against her skin.
She pulled it out slowly, letting the dim light reflect against the silver teardrop pendant. The initials etched at the back—H.K.—seemed to stare at her.
Her heart quickened.
Why did he give this to her? Why her?
She turned the pendant over in her palm, lost in thought, when a sudden voice cut through the quiet.
"What are you looking at, Yu?"
Yui jumped, her hand clamping the necklace tight before she stuffed it back into her pocket.
Her head whipped around, eyes wide.
Leaning casually against the doorway was a boy about her age, maybe slightly older. His hair was messy in a deliberate way, his shirt half-tucked like he didn't care much for neatness. His grin was mischievous, the kind of grin that looked like it got him into trouble more often than not.
"S-Shoji?" Yui stammered, recognizing him, basically, they both grew together, given their brothers were good buddies.
Shoji Hayashi gave a playful salute. "The one and only. Man, you scare easily. You should've seen your face just now." He laughed, stepping into the apartment like he owned the place.
Yui's shoulders slumped. "Why do you always have to do that?"
"Because it's fun," Shoji answered simply, flashing her another boyish grin.
She exhaled, shaking her head. Shoji was indeed the type who enjoyed teasing. But there was something warm about his presence, even if it irritated her at the moment.
"I'm supposed to look after you," Shoji added lightly, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Don't make it too hard for me, okay?"
Yui's lips parted to respond, but her thoughts were still tangled in the necklace hidden in her pocket.
Back at the Kuroya Mansion
While Yui wrestled with her emotions, the scene was starkly different across the city at the Kuroya mansion.
The grand hall was quiet except for the ticking of a clock. Haruto stepped through the doorway, his shoes clicking softly against the polished floor. His posture was relaxed, his expression unreadable—until his eyes caught sight of his father waiting for him.
Sota Kuroya, tall and imposing, stood with his back turned at first. Then, with deliberate slowness, he turned around and flicked his wrist.
A handful of photographs scattered to the ground at Haruto's feet.
They landed face-up.
Images of Haruto, Yui, and little Mei at the amusement park. Eating ice cream. Sitting by the rides. Haruto carrying Mei in his arms.
The evidence was damning in its innocence.
Sota's voice cut through the silence, low and sharp.
"Didn't I tell you to stay away from Himari?"
Haruto's jaw tightened. His eyes flicked down at the photos but he didn't bend to pick them up. He simply stood there, his figure still and his smirk faint.
Sota sighed in annoyance, his sharp eyes narrowing. He stood, his heavy steps echoing as he approached his son.
"Do your work properly," Sota said, his voice laced with warning. "It won't take me a second to abandon you too."
He extended a hand, holding out a sleek black card. His expression remained cold.
"Take Yuki out for dinner. She's waiting in your room."
Haruto glanced at the card. His father's words hung in the air like chains.
For a moment, silence reigned. Then, slowly, Haruto's lips curved upward in a dangerous smirk.
But he said nothing.
Back at Yui's apartment, she sat across from Shoji, still unsettled, her hand brushing the necklace in her pocket. She didn't know that, across the city, Haruto was once again being forced into chains of his own—the weight of a family name, and the suffocating plans tying him to Yuki.
But one thing was certain: the strings binding all of them were beginning to tangle tighter than ever.