"So… you bought that?" the secretary asked, glancing sideways.
Koharu didn't look up from her laptop. "Huh? No," she replied casually. "It's just a small gift for my Kura."
The secretary paused mid-step.
Kura? she thought, rolling her eyes internally.
On the screen, the same clip played again—Sakura standing on stage, smiling through tears as she held the trophy. The lights reflected in her eyes, soft and grateful. Koharu replayed it once more, then again, her gaze never wavering.
She lifted her mug and took a slow sip of hot chocolate, the steam fogging her glasses slightly.
"There," Koharu murmured, almost fondly. "That smile… she looks happier now."
Her fingers reached out unconsciously, brushing the screen as if she could feel warmth through the glass. Her touch lingered over Sakura's face, gentle, careful—like she was afraid of breaking something fragile.
The secretary pretended to adjust some files, watching from the corner of her eye.
This is bad, she thought. Very bad.
Koharu leaned back in her chair, replaying the clip yet again. The awards. The tears. The smile that felt earned.
"You did well," Koharu whispered softly to the screen. "I told you it wasn't over."
She didn't notice the secretary sigh quietly.
Her boss—brilliant, powerful, untouchable in every boardroom—was smiling at a laptop like a teenager in love.
And somewhere deep inside Koharu, the dark fracture that once hurt now felt justified.
Because OG was rising again.
Because Sakura was shining.
And because this time, Koharu believed—with unsettling certainty—that she had played a part in saving her.
Whether Sakura knew it or not.