Ryoichiro hesitated briefly at the doorway of Risa’s apartment. The warmth of her invitation, coupled with the lingering tension of the night, tempted him to stay. But he knew better.

“Thank you, Risa-chan,” he said softly, offering her a reassuring smile. “But I need to settle things at work first. I've already been away for too long.”

Risa looked at him, concern etched in her features, but she nodded in understanding. “If you need anything, just call, okay?”

“I will,” he promised, then turned and walked away, feeling the weight of the unspoken words between them. He couldn't afford to let his guard down, not now.

The next morning, Ryoichiro went back to work after a few days of absence. The office was a stark contrast to the disarray of Ryoichiro’s thoughts. The hum of fluorescent lights and the rhythmic tapping of keyboards offered little comfort as he made his way to the section chief’s office. The door was slightly ajar, and the chief’s voice could be heard within — a familiar tone of impatience.

Ryoichiro took a deep breath, knocked, and entered.

“Ah, Himura-san,” the section chief said, looking up from a stack of papers with a frown. He was a stern man in his late fifties, with graying hair slicked back and a sharp gaze that seemed to pierce through any excuse. “You’ve finally decided to show up.”

Ryoichiro bowed deeply. “I’m sorry, Chief Saito. I didn’t intend to be away this long.”

“Didn’t intend?” The chief's voice rose, echoing in the small office. “You were given a few days off after the shelf incident, and yet you stretched it to nearly a week! This is unacceptable. We’re running a department here, not a vacation resort.”

“I deeply apologize!” Ryoichiro replied, keeping his tone calm despite the tension building in his chest. “I had a personal matter that required my attention.”

The chief studied him for a moment, his gaze softening slightly but still critical. “Personal matters aside, you have responsibilities here. The work doesn’t stop because you’re not around. Make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

Ryoichiro nodded, the weight of the reprimand pressing down on him. “It won’t, Chief Saito. I’ll catch up on everything.”

“See that you do,” the chief said, dismissing him with a wave of his hand.

Ryoichiro left the office, the sting of the reprimand lingering as he went back to his desk.

As Ryoichiro stared at his computer screen, the words in front of him blurred into meaningless shapes. Normally, he’d breeze through these reports, but today his mind kept wandering — back to the strange sensation of being watched, to the inexplicable chill that crept up his spine when he was alone. His hands hovered over the keyboard, motionless. How could he focus on numbers and figures when the world around him felt so… wrong?

Ryoichiro clenched his fists under the table, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. He felt like a prisoner in his own mind, shackled by fears he couldn’t even explain. He was still adjusting his thoughts when he heard familiar voices calling out to him.

“Ryo-kun!” Saejima’s voice was the first to reach him, followed closely by Kirishima’s — Kirishima, with his easygoing nature and perpetual grin, and Saejima, the more serious and analytical of the pair.

“Hey, where’ve you been, you good-for-nothing bastard?" Kirishima asked, dropping a heavy hand on Ryoichiro’s shoulder. “We thought you’d ditched us for good.”

Saejima folded his arms, his expression more stern. “You’ve been gone too long, Ryoichiro-san. What’s going on?”

Ryoichiro forced a smile, though he couldn’t quite hide the exhaustion in his eyes. “Just dealing with some personal stuff. It’s been a rough few days.”

“Personal stuff?” Kirishima echoed, his brow furrowing. “That sounds serious. You okay?”

Ryoichiro hesitated, not wanting to burden them with the strange, unnerving events that had unfolded. “I’ll be fine. Just needed some time to sort things out.”

Kirishima narrowed his eyes, not entirely convinced. “You know we’re here if you need anything, right?”

“Yeah,” Saejima chimed in, his grin returning. “We’ve got your back, man. Just don’t leave us hanging next time, okay? The office isn’t the same without you.”

Ryoichiro nodded, feeling a pang of guilt. “Thanks, guys. I appreciate it.”

As they talked, the atmosphere lightened, and for a moment, Ryoichiro allowed himself to believe that things might return to normal. But in the back of his mind, the shadow of recent events loomed large, a reminder that normalcy was a luxury he might no longer have.

The scene shifts to a posh restaurant located just a few floors below their office, nestled within the same building. The place is a tasteful blend of comfort and class — modern, with sleek lines and soft lighting, but not so extravagant as to be intimidating. Dark wooden tables are set with pristine white cloths, and the gentle clinking of silverware mixes with the low hum of conversation, creating an inviting atmosphere that suggested this was where the city's professionals came to unwind.

The lunchtime crowd had just begun to settle in as Ryoichiro and Saejima entered the restaurant. Ryoichiro took in the scene, appreciating the understated elegance. It was a far cry from the bustling, cafeteria-style lunchrooms they were used to, and it felt like a brief escape from the daily grind.

Ryoichiro exhaled, trying to shake off the nagging thoughts that clung to him. He needed a distraction, something to pull him out of his head and back into the moment. As he joined his friends for lunch, the familiar rhythm of their banter began to draw him in, offering a welcome reprieve.

Saejima, always quick to spot the best seats, led them to a table by the window. The view overlooked a quiet side street, lined with well-maintained trees and a few parked cars. The table itself was cozy, with just enough space for a small group to share a meal without feeling cramped.

As they settled into their seats, Ryoichiro glanced around nervously, noting the absence of their third companion. “Where’s Kirishima-san?” he asked, expecting him to have arrived by now.

Saejima leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. “He went to get his girlfriend. Apparently, he’s really excited for us to meet her.”

Ryoichiro strained to keep the conversation flowing, forcing himself to participate despite the turmoil roiling beneath his calm exterior. “A girlfriend? I didn’t even know he had a girlfriend.”

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Saejima rolled his eyes, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “Yeah, well, you’ve been out of the loop. She’s all he talks about these days. I swear, it’s like he’s got some kind of brain infection. Every time we have lunch, it’s ‘Yuko this, Yuko that.’ It’s been driving me nuts.”

Ryoichiro smiled, a little surprised at how animated Saejima was about it. “Is it that bad?”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong," Saejima replied, waving a hand dismissively. "I’m happy for Kirishima-san, but when you’re the only one around to listen to his lovesick ramblings, it gets old fast. I mean, he’s been at it non-stop. I’ve been taking the brunt of it all on my own — until now, that is.”

Ryoichiro’s face lightened up, understanding what Saejima was getting at. “So you’re glad to share that burden with me?”

“Glad?” Saejima leaned in, lowering his voice as if sharing a well-kept secret. “I’m ecstatic, Ryoichiro-san. Finally, someone else to listen to his endless stories about how amazing she is. You’ll see what I mean in a few minutes.”

Ryoichiro chuckled, appreciating Saejima’s light-hearted grumbling. Despite the teasing, it was clear that Saejima cared about Kirishima and was genuinely happy for him, even if it came with a side of annoyance.

As they waited for Kirishima and his mysterious girlfriend to arrive, Ryoichiro let his gaze drift out the window, his thoughts momentarily returning to the strangeness of the past few days. But here, in the warmth of the restaurant with his friend by his side, it felt easier to push those thoughts aside, if only for a little while.

He resolved to keep his struggles hidden, to mask the turmoil brewing inside him with a veneer of normalcy. Despite his best efforts to project calm and composure, his attempts proved to be in vain. The weight of his anxiety seeped through, betraying the facade he so desperately tried to maintain.

Ryoichiro leaned forward slightly, his voice lowered as he and Saejima delved into a more serious topic. The laughter from earlier had faded, replaced by a more somber tone as they discussed the challenges they had been facing, both at work and in their personal lives. There was a shared understanding between them, a sense of camaraderie born from years of navigating the ups and downs of their careers together.

“Ryoichiro-san,” Saejima began, his eyes focused on the rim of his glass, “sometimes I wonder if all this is worth it. The late nights, the stress… It’s starting to take a toll.”

Ryoichiro nodded, understanding all too well what Saejima meant. He opened his mouth to respond, to share some of his own struggles, but just as he was about to speak, Saejima’s gaze shifted over Ryoichiro’s shoulder.

“Here he comes,” Saejima said, his tone shifting abruptly from serious to slightly exasperated.

By the time Yuko arrived, Ryoichiro’s nerves were stretched thin. Every small noise made him jump, every glance around the restaurant felt like a potential threat. He was wound so tight that when Yuko appeared, smiling and confident, it almost shattered him. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but it wasn’t this — a mask of normalcy over something he couldn’t quite see. The tension in his chest tightened, and he forced himself to return her smile, even as his mind screamed that something was terribly, horribly wrong.

As Kirishima and his girlfriend approached the table, Ryoichiro could feel the atmosphere changing. She greeted them with a bright smile, and she had that air of confidence that seemed to put Kirishima at ease. It was a side of him Ryoichiro hadn’t seen before — less guarded, more open.

“Well, that took a while! Ryoichiro-san and I were just about ready to leave you.” Saejima called out, raising a hand in greeting.

Kirishima beamed, clearly proud as he introduced his girlfriend. “Relax. This place will let you stay here for a week if you wanted to. And yeah, this is Yuko. Yuko, these are my friends, Saejima and Ryoichiro.”

Yuko bowed politely, her smile never wavering. “It’s nice to finally meet you both. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Ryoichiro exchanged a quick glance with Saejima, who gave him a look that said, “Here we go.” Whatever serious conversation they’d been about to have was now firmly on hold. Instead, they found themselves caught up in the pleasantries of meeting someone new, with Kirishima doing most of the talking, his excitement palpable.

Yuko stood beside Kirishima, her presence immediately drawing Ryoichiro’s attention. She was petite, with delicate features that carried a quiet strength. Her dark, expressive eyes held a depth that suggested she was someone who noticed everything, even the smallest details, yet she maintained an air of gentle reserve. Her smile was warm and genuine, but there was a hint of something deeper, an unspoken intensity that lingered just beneath the surface.

She wore a simple yet elegant outfit — nothing overly flashy, but it perfectly complemented her natural beauty. A light, flowing blouse paired with a modest skirt, both in soft, earthy tones, gave her an unassuming grace. There was something almost ethereal about her, a calmness in her demeanor that contrasted with the lively energy in the restaurant.

As she exchanged pleasantries with Saejima and Ryoichiro, her voice was soft but clear, carrying a sense of purpose with each word. She didn’t dominate the conversation, but when she spoke, it was with an assuredness that made others listen. There was a subtle kindness in her eyes, but also a hint of something more — a quiet determination that made Ryoichiro think there was much more to her than met the eye.

Despite her gentle appearance, there was a certain aura around Yuko that suggested she could handle herself in any situation, no matter how challenging. It was a quality that made her presence both comforting and intriguing, leaving Ryoichiro with the sense that Kirishima had found someone truly remarkable.

The conversation moved from introductions to small talk. Kirishima couldn’t resist the opportunity to start bragging about Yuko. He leaned forward, his eyes lighting up as he spoke, completely unaware of the growing awkwardness at the table.

“Did you guys know Yuko was the top of her class in university?” Kirishima began, his voice filled with pride. “She’s not just smart, she’s also super talented. She plays the piano like a pro and even teaches kids on weekends. And get this — she’s fluent in three languages!”

Yuko’s cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink, and she glanced down at the table, clearly uncomfortable with the attention. She tried to brush it off with a small laugh. “Kirishima-san, please…”

But Kirishima was on a roll, oblivious to Yuko’s discomfort. “Oh, and that’s not all,” he continued, leaning in even closer. “She’s an amazing cook, too! You should taste her homemade sushi — it’s out of this world! Honestly, I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

Saejima and Ryoichiro exchanged a quick, uncomfortable glance. Saejima shifted in his seat, trying to find something to say that wouldn’t make things more awkward, while Ryoichiro forced a polite smile, feeling the tension in the air.

“That’s… really impressive,” Ryoichiro finally said, his voice a bit strained. “You’ve got quite a catch there, Kirishima-san.”

“Yeah, sounds like you hit the jackpot,” Saejima added, trying to keep the tone light even though the situation was anything but.

Yuko looked like she wanted to sink into the floor. She managed another small laugh, but it was clear she wasn’t enjoying the spotlight. “Really, it’s nothing special,” she murmured, her gaze still fixed on the table. “I’m just doing what I love.”

Kirishima, still oblivious, reached over and gave her hand a squeeze. “Don’t be so modest, Yuko-chan. You’re amazing, and I want everyone to know it.”

The awkwardness at the table grew, and for a moment, the cheerful atmosphere of the restaurant felt stifling. Ryoichiro could see how embarrassed Yuko was, and it only made him feel more uneasy. He knew Kirishima meant well, but it was clear he wasn’t reading the room.

Saejima, always quick on his feet, decided to intervene. “So, Yuko-san,” he said, steering the conversation in a different direction, “what kind of music do you like to play on the piano? Do you have a favorite composer?”

Yuko looked up, visibly relieved at the change of topic. “Oh, I really enjoy playing Chopin,” she replied, her voice more relaxed now. “His pieces are so expressive, and I love how they can convey such deep emotions.”

The conversation slowly began to shift back to a more comfortable tone, and the tension started to ease. Ryoichiro and Saejima were careful to include Yuko in the discussion without making her feel like she was on display. Kirishima, still beaming with pride, seemed to finally catch on and let the conversation flow more naturally.

As they continued talking, Ryoichiro couldn’t help but admire Yuko’s grace in handling the situation. Despite the awkwardness, she had managed to keep her composure, showing yet another layer to her character. It made him all the more curious about the woman who had captured Kirishima’s heart.

As the conversation continued, Kirishima, still in high spirits, began making jokes at Yuko’s expense — teasing her about how, despite her being a good cook, she always manages to burn toast or how she insists on sorting laundry by color even when it's unnecessary. His tone was light and affectionate, but Yuko’s embarrassment was palpable, her forced smiles only adding to the awkwardness.

Even as Kirishima's laughter echoed through the small restaurant, Ryoichiro couldn't completely shake the unease in his chest. Every now and then, his gaze would drift, searching for something he couldn't name, a reminder of the weight he'd been carrying.

Saejima, trying to keep things from getting too uncomfortable, chimed in with his own jokes, though he was careful not to push too far. Ryoichiro, on the other hand, found himself growing quieter. Something was off, a strange tension gnawing at him that he couldn’t quite place.

As Kirishima launched into another story, Ryoichiro, feeling momentarily detached from the light-hearted banter, happened to glance at Yuko. For a brief moment, their eyes met, and Ryoichiro’s breath caught in his throat. The look she gave him was nothing like the shy, embarrassed smiles she had been showing moments earlier.

It was a stare — intense, cold, and calculating. It sent a jolt through him, a sharp contrast to the gentle demeanor she had displayed the whole time. In that instant, the playful atmosphere around them seemed to warp, distorting into something darker, more sinister.

Ryoichiro’s mind raced, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Then, as if a hidden memory was suddenly dragged to the surface, it hit him with the force of a crashing wave. He remembered those eyes, that look. It was the same cold gaze he had seen in the shadowy intruder — the woman who had invaded his home and turned his life upside down.

Ayane!

A chill ran down Ryoichiro’s spine, his body freezing in place as his mind grappled with the horrifying realization. He almost choked on his drink, quickly covering it up with a cough as he tried to steady himself. His heart pounded in his chest, and the light-hearted chatter around him faded into the background, becoming a distant echo.

Was this really happening? Was Yuko… Ayane? The thought was terrifying, yet the more he considered it, the more it made sense. The same penetrating eyes, the same eerie presence that seemed to cling to the air around her — how could he have missed it?

Ryoichiro quickly averted his gaze, forcing himself to focus on his drink, his hands trembling slightly. He could feel Yuko’s eyes still on him, though her expression had shifted back to its previous warmth as if nothing had happened. She was playing her part perfectly, fooling everyone — including Kirishima.

But Ryoichiro knew better now. Beneath that friendly exterior was something far more dangerous, something he wasn’t sure how to confront. His mind raced with questions. Why was she here? What did she want with him? And how much did she know?

For the rest of the meal, Ryoichiro could barely focus, his thoughts consumed by the terrifying revelation. Every laugh, every smile, felt like a twisted mockery of the normalcy he had so desperately craved. He had thought, if only for a fleeting moment, that he could enjoy a simple lunch with friends, that maybe things could return to the way they were.

But now he knew that was impossible. The shadow intruder, Ayane, was here, sitting right across from him, and he was trapped in her presence, unsure of what to do next.