Chapter Text
Karin paced outside her father’s study, bare feet against the polished wood, arms folded tightly across her chest.
The door was closed. Again.
She could hear the low murmur of his voice inside — measured, deliberate. Nothing like the warm, booming tone she remembered before she left for London. Now it was distant. Formal. Tired.
He’d been on that call for nearly an hour even on weekend.
Every few minutes, she considered knocking again.
But the last time she did, she heard only a clipped, “I’m on a call,” followed by silence that somehow felt worse than being scolded.
So she paced.
She needed answers. Not dramatic ones. Not shouting, or tears, or broken trust. Just answers.
The boutique scene replayed in her mind, line by line, like a film she couldn’t pause.
”If your father hadn’t begged my grandmother…”
Begged.
The word curled like a splinter beneath her skin.
Her father wasn’t perfect. But he had dignity.
He raised them on stories of honor. Of standing tall. Of never bowing to anyone — not even in business. The man who told them love was trust, not transaction
And now the idea that he begged? For a marriage? For this?
It didn’t make sense.
Not with what she knew of him.
Unless… there was something she didn’t know.
——
Two days ago.
She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop — but the hallway had been too quiet, and Yuzu’s voice too soft not to catch.
Karin had stepped out of her room, only to pause when she saw the silhouette at the end of the corridor — Yuzu, leaning against the wall with her phone pressed tightly to her ear, whispering like every word was made of glass.
“I don’t believe you think the past years meant nothing,” Yuzu had whispered. “I can’t take that—”
Then she looked up.
And saw Karin standing there.
The call ended instantly. No goodbyes. Just the quiet snap of a screen going dark, and Yuzu’s shoulders stiffening.
Karin blinked, confused. “Yuzu—”
“I’m busy,” Yuzu said quickly.
And before Karin could say anything else, she had already turned and disappeared into her room.
The door closed.
Locked.
And that was all Karin got.
——
Now, standing outside her father’s study again, Karin felt the ache rising in her throat.
She knocked.
Once.
Twice.
No answer.
She exhaled and turned to walk down the hallway — only to nearly bump into Ichigo.
He was holding a thick folder, pen stuck behind his ear, brows furrowed in that permanent big-brother-scowl.
“Hey, can we talk?” she asked, hopeful.
He didn’t even break stride. “Not now. Busy.”
Just five minutes.
That’s all I need.
But no one had five minutes anymore.
And that was what scared her most.
——
She shut her bedroom door behind her and leaned against it.
For a moment, she just stood there — eyes closed, breath shallow — letting the stillness settle into her bones.
The house was too quiet these days. And somehow, even her room didn’t feel like hers anymore.
She crossed to her desk and picked up her phone.
No new messages.
She opened her call history anyway. Scrolled. Stopped.
Her finger hovered over a name.
Athena.
She could call. She could rant. Athena always had something blunt and useful to say.
But instead, she locked her phone and set it down.
A second later, she picked it back up again — not to call, but to scroll through her photos.
Her thumb paused over one from last summer: Yuzu at the beach, laughing, eyes squinting from the sun. Her hair had been tied up messily, her dress fluttering in the wind.
It was one of the rare weekends Yuzu had flown out to visit her. They’d found a quiet beach just outside the city.
She’d insisted they take matching jump shots — even though Karin absolutely hated doing them.
That Yuzu felt like someone else now.
She swiped to the next photo.
And the next.
And the next.
All of them looked like memories taken from a time that no longer existed.
Eventually, she set the phone down again — screen facing the desk this time, as if turning it away could make everything stop spinning.
Then she grabbed her bag, slung it over her shoulder, and headed out the door.
She needed to talk to someone.
And she knew exactly who.