Okinawa.
Inside the seaside house, the gentle sound of waves lapping against the open windows filled the air. The late morning sun cast a warm, golden glow across the wooden floors.
Haruki sat relaxed on the couch in the living room, a laptop open before him, a wireless earpiece in his ear.
His voice was calm, focused—yet with a natural ease.
"Yes, Mister Yamashita."
"Mm. Understood."
He clicked through files on the screen.
"Don't worry, I've got it under control."
Pause. Then a quiet chuckle.
"The new project file? Ah, I actually finished it yesterday."
"Yes—I'll send it to you now."
"Hmm? No, no… I just had a lot of time, so I moved ahead a bit."
Just then, Kyouko stepped softly into the room, her presence as serene as the sea outside. She carried a freshly brewed cup of coffee on a small tray, the steam curling gently in the air.
She set it carefully on the table beside him.
Haruki looked up, smiling—and without a word, reached out and gently took her wrist.
