Thunder rolled again, detonating like a cannon over the manor.

  "Only a few months left? Is that what she thinks, Matsue-kun?"

  Hana, still leaning against the gss door, looked impossibly fragile in her bck dress, as if the next fsh of lightning might shatter her into porcein shards.

  "That is a question I can't answer," Jun said. He didn't know Haruka’s full pn, but he had a theory.

  The System.

  "Your face says otherwise," Hana noted, her eyes narrowing as she watched him.

  "Mochizuki mentioned something about an 'unforeseen tragedy.' Perhaps she had a premonition—a vivid nightmare that she needed to get off her chest. I’m as in the dark as you are, Ma'am."

  Jun wasn't about to spill everything. He didn't have a System anymore, and he hadn't seen the "Simution" Haruka had endured. He couldn't give Hana false hope or unnecessary fear.

  "Getting a straight answer out of you is like trying to squeeze water from a stone," Hana sighed. "I wonder if my Haruka learned her bad habits from you?"

  Hana was half-convinced, half-skeptical. She had humored her niece’s demands for daily check-ups, and the results were always perfect. Yet, the look of raw, pleading desperation in Haruka’s eyes made it hard to believe it was just a bad dream.

  "If you had to choose a side," Hana asked suddenly, "between Haruka and me... who would you trust? Keep in mind, I’m the one holding the checkbook for your orphanage."

  Why is she asking me a 'loyalty test' question? Jun wondered. It felt out of character for a woman of her standing.

  Hana gave him a quick wink. Jun realized the trap a second before he heard the soft rhythm of breathing from the stairwell.

  Is she a literal ninja? Jun thought. I’m starting to believe the legends.

  Jun put on his best "conflicted" expression, pausing for dramatic effect. "Mochizuki confuses and exhausts me," he said loudly, "but I believe she is a good person at heart."

  Hana matched his performance, putting on a look of mock defeat. She called out to the hallway, "Alright, Haruka. You win this round."

  Jun turned as Haruka emerged from the shadows. She stood on the nding, her chin tilted up. She had changed into tailored trousers and a short-sleeved blouse tucked neatly at the waist, accentuating her slender frame and making her legs look miles long.

  She marched down the stairs and grabbed Jun by the sleeve, dragging him away from the foyer.

  "Hey! I don't have many nice shirts, Mochizuki! Don't rip it!"

  Haruka didn't let go until they reached a room that was clearly her private quarters.

  "What did she ask you?" she demanded, sitting on the edge of a massive, white canopy bed.

  Jun watched the mattress dip and spring back. I bet that bed costs more than my apartment, he thought. He stayed by the door, refusing to enter her "inner sanctum."

  "She asked about her 'impending death.' Why did you tell her?"

  "My resources are limited," Haruka said, her voice dropping. "If I tell her, she stays vigint. If something happens, we catch it early. I’m mobilizing every asset the family has."

  They spoke as if the tragedy were a mathematical certainty.

  Haruka noticed Jun’s awkwardness. She patted the edge of the bed. "Sit. I don't bite."

  "I’ll pass. It’s... not appropriate. Let’s go to the library."

  Haruka stood up and brushed past him. Jun caught the scent of her perfume and the faint red of her ears as she led him down a long corridor lined with Old Master paintings. Jun felt like he had stepped back into the nineteenth century. Maids bowed in silence as they passed.

  At the end of the hall, she pushed open two heavy oak doors. The smell of old paper and leather bindings flooded Jun’s senses.

  "My aunt says these were my father’s books," Haruka said. "Read whatever you like."

  The room was nearly circur—a turret or watchtower. A row of narrow windows looked out over the estate like a gallery of oil paintings depicting forests, hills, and the storm outside.

  "When I was little and my aunt was busy with work, I lived in here." Haruka sat at a small desk beneath a window showing a grove of pines whipping in the wind.

  Jun chose a seat as far from her as possible. Above him, the window showed a bruised, purple sky. The rain had paused for a moment of eerie silence.

  "I used to doodle and write on these desks," Haruka said with a small smile. "But I scrubbed them all clean years ago."

  She seemed softer today, nostalgic. Jun didn't buy it. He kept his head down, tracing the grain of the wood, looking for a "ghost" of the girl she used to be.

  "I told you, I cleaned them," she repeated. She stood up and began running her hand along the spines of the books. "Aunt Hana used to find me here and read to me. All the cssics—Andersen, Grimm, One Thousand and One Nights."

  She stopped, looking annoyed. "She still thinks I like fairy tales. I only listened to make her happy. She’s the one who’s obsessed with them."

  Haruka paced the room and sat back down. Jun was still hunched over another desk.

  "The Little Prince," he whispered.

  "What?" The rain had started again, a rhythmic drumming against the stone.

  "My favorite," Jun said. "A fairy tale for adults who realize the world is broken."

  "I don't think she ever read that one to me."

  "Maybe it was too sad for her." Jun moved to a third desk, still hunting for something.

  "I told you, Matsue, there’s nothing left." Haruka’s voice held a note of anxiety. She was using her memories to build a bridge, but Jun was looking for the cracks.

  "Found it!" Jun pointed to a spot near the wall.

  "Impossible!" Haruka hurried over. "There’s nothing there. You’re lying!"

  "Look closer," Jun said. "A little girl—that’s you. And a boy next to her. A brother, maybe?"

  "I don't have a brother," Haruka said coldly. "What are you talking about?"

  "Then expin this," Jun said, looking her in the eye. "Why did your security team tell my boss that I was a 'Runaway Young Master' from the Mochizuki family?"

  Haruka froze.

  The trap had snapped shut.

  Jun watched the panic flicker across her face. He was the first boy she had ever invited into this house. She had let him into her bedroom; she had shared her childhood secrets; she had tried to show him her world.

  Sorry, Hana-san, Jun thought. I’m about to break her heart.

  "How did you find out?"

  Haruka sounded like a ghost. Her voice reminded Jun of the night she’d been abandoned in the Simution.

  "My boss is a close friend of my Director," Jun said, his tone conversational. "Next time you try to sabotage someone’s life, Mochizuki, you might want to do a more thorough background check on the employer."

  "I’ll keep that in mind," she replied, her face losing all color.

  "So? Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

  Jun looked out the window. A fsh of lightning turned the world white for a split second.

  "What is there to say? I did it. It was wrong. I don't regret it." She kept her head down, her hair shielding her expression.

  "Why?" Jun stood up and moved to the furthest corner of the room. "Why are you so obsessed with controlling me?"

  The library was silent, save for the rain. Haruka didn't speak.

  What could she say? That he had saved her from a bottomless pit in another life? That she had loved him until she had nothing left, only to be cast aside? That her love had curdled into a desperate, clinging hate?

  Her pride wouldn't allow it. She refused to admit she was the broken girl from the Simution.

  She wanted to keep the "Other Life" as a dream. She knew that if she spoke it aloud, it would become real. And she didn't want that reality. She wanted to change it.

  But standing there, Haruka felt the library dissolving. She felt like she was back in that dark, suffocating bedroom where time stood still. It had been her sanctuary once; then it became her prison.

  Can the rain speak for me? she wondered.

  She decided to pivot. If she couldn't win him with memories, she would win him with power. Everyone had a price.

  "I admit, my methods were... fwed," she finally said.

  "I just wanted you within reach. You are too important to me, Jun. I couldn't risk something happening to you." Her voice trembled—a rare sign of weakness from the Princess of Haneoka.

  Only you can see me crying at the bottom of the abyss. Only you can reach down. Only you can save me.

  "Accidents happen. Cars, illnesses... or worse, you could be lured away by some common woman who doesn't understand your value. I couldn't allow that."

  "If you vanished... what would I do? What could I do?"

  "I just want you here, in Mitaka, where I can see you. You can do whatever you want. I’ll protect you. You want to work? I’ll give you a company. You want money? My vaults are yours. If you want power, I’ll name you the heir to the Mochizuki Group. I don't care."

  Just stay. Wait with me for the day the tragedy comes. Save me again. Please.

  Haruka looked up, her eyes full of a terrifying, hopeful light. But Jun was just resting his chin on his hand, watching the rain hit the pines.

  "..."

  "I didn't start out trying to sabotage you!" she cried, her voice rising.

  "I tried to be nice! I offered you a job! Why isn't working for me good enough for you?"

  "You rejected every olive branch I threw! What was I supposed to do?"

  "What do you want?! Do you want the orphanage? I’ll buy the nd and move the whole building onto this estate! Is that what it takes?!"

  The weakness in her voice was gone, repced by a jagged, hysterical edge. She sounded like she was standing outside in the storm, being hammered by the wind.

  "TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT!" she shrieked, drowning out the thunder. "STOP LOOKING AT ME WITH THOSE COLD EYES!"

  It wasn't a demand; it was a plea for mercy. She gripped the bookshelf to keep from colpsing.

  Jun finally turned to look at her.

  "Stop acting like the victim," he said. His voice was quiet, but it cut through her screams like a bde. "I’m the one whose life you’ve disrupted. I’m the one whose income you’ve stolen. Why are you the one acting like you’re hurt?"

  He let out a long sigh.

  "Is this the 'Incubus' tax? Because I have this face," he spped his own cheek, "I’m supposed to carry the weight of your obsessions? I’m supposed to be responsible for your 'expectations' and your 'disappointments'? I never asked for any of this."

  Haruka flinched.

  "Mochizuki, you told me we were friends. You told me not to lie to you. I took that seriously."

  "I treated you with respect because I thought you were better than this. I thought that’s what friends—or even lovers—were supposed to do."

  His tone was gentle, which only made the words sting more.

  I didn't lie to you, Haruka thought. I just didn't tell you everything. Silence isn't a lie.

  "Regarding your offer," Jun continued. "I don't know if you realize it, but you are trying to own me. You are trying to curate my life like one of your paintings. I don't care who else submits to the Mochizuki name—I will not."

  The circur library felt like an isnd in a bck, rising sea.

  Haruka waited for the verdict.

  "You helped me when I was suspended. I am grateful for that. I don't actually care about the degree—I could have transferred—but you did me a kindness."

  "I remember every kindness shown to me. I’ll remember it until the day I die," Jun said, a side effect of his hyper-memory. "Consider that debt paid. We’ll call it even for the jobs you cost me. We don't need to be friends anymore."

  Jun entered Haneoka and spent his time building bridges, only to burn them one by one.

  "Don't ever try to control me again. If you do, we won't even be cssmates. We’ll be strangers."

  "Where I go and what I do is my business. You have no standing to interfere."

  The rain intensified. The windows rattled in their frames. The gss shivered as if the house itself were terrified of the silence between them.

  Jun stood up to leave. He was worried about the kids at the Home in this weather.

  Haruka didn't move.

  "...No," she whispered.

  Jun stopped. "What did you say?"