Sakura arrived just as the sky deepened into evening.
The place took her breath away despite everything weighing on her chest. The dinner area looked unreal—soft golden lights floating like fireflies, white flowers cascading down marble pillars, glass walls opening to a view of the city glowing below. It felt less like a restaurant and more like a carefully built dream, delicate and impossibly beautiful.
For a brief second, Sakura forgot why she was here.
If she hadn't been trapped by fear, obligation, and invisible strings, she would have smiled freely. She would have taken it all in with wonder. But tonight, the beauty only made the situation feel crueler—as if heaven itself were being used as a bargaining chip.
Her heels echoed softly as she stepped inside.
A woman approached her calmly, dressed in a sharp, elegant suit. Sakura recognized her instantly.
"You…" Sakura said, stopping mid-step. "You're the same lady who gave me the tissue and the chocolate."
The secretary met her gaze. She didn't explain. She didn't smile.
She simply nodded.
Something cold slid down Sakura's spine.
"Please follow me," the secretary said, turning toward the inner hall.
Sakura followed, her heart beating faster with every step. So it wasn't a coincidence, she thought. It never was.
They reached the dining area—a private table surrounded by glass and soft candlelight. The city stretched endlessly below, stars almost close enough to touch.
The secretary gestured toward the chair. "She'll be here shortly."
"She?" Sakura echoed softly.
Before the secretary could respond, footsteps approached.
Koharu stopped just a few steps away.
She hadn't expected to feel like this.
She was wearing a coffee-shaded suit, tailored perfectly, simple but expensive in the way money didn't need to announce itself. Her hair was neatly styled, her posture composed—but her hands betrayed her, fingers tightening slightly at her sides.
Koharu had attended countless meetings, dinners, negotiations that decided the fate of companies.
None of them had made her nervous.
But the moment her eyes landed on Sakura, her heart skipped—hard.
Sakura stood there in casual clothes, no stage makeup, no spotlight. Just her. Soft. Real. Breathtaking in a way that hurt.
She's even more beautiful like this, Koharu thought, stunned.
For a second, she forgot how to breathe.
Sakura looked up—and their eyes met.
The air shifted.
Recognition flickered across Sakura's face, confusion quickly following. Something about the woman in front of her felt familiar—not her face, but the presence. The quiet intensity. The way her gaze lingered as if Sakura were the only thing in the room.
"You're…" Sakura began, then stopped.
Koharu swallowed. "Koharu."
Her voice was calm, but inside, everything was shaking.
"I'm glad you came," Koharu said.
Sakura didn't sit. "So you're the one."
Koharu nodded slowly. "Yes."
Silence stretched between them, thick and fragile.
The secretary quietly stepped back, giving them space, though her eyes stayed alert—watchful.
Sakura finally took her seat, folding her hands in her lap to hide the trembling.
"I didn't come here for luxury," Sakura said softly. "Or favors."
Koharu watched her carefully, every movement etched into her mind. "I know."
"Then you know why I'm here," Sakura continued.
Koharu's gaze softened—and that scared Sakura more than arrogance would have.
Because this wasn't about power anymore.
This was personal.
And as Koharu sat across from her, heart pounding, one truth became painfully clear:
This dinner was never just a deal.
It was the moment two worlds—fame and obsession, gratitude and control—finally collided face to face.