Faced with Sayuri's plea, Takashi's heart felt like it was clogged with sludge—stagnant, suffocating, crushing.
He wanted to say something, but didn't know what.
Just then, his phone rang.
He looked at the screen: Caller ID – Yozakura Hitomi.
"Hello?"
"You've met with Mrs. Sawamura?"
Takashi had no idea how Yozakura Hitomi knew where he was, or what he was doing—but he didn't care.
"…Yeah," he said softly.
"She asked you to visit her daughter?"
"Mm."
"You're conflicted, right? You want to refuse, but the words won't come out."
Sometimes Takashi wondered if Hitomi could read minds.
Otherwise, how could she always guess what he was thinking?
"Mm."
"What are you so worried about?"
Hitomi chuckled.
"You and I—we've always been selfish to the core."
"What do other people's opinions matter to people like us?"
Her words were blunt, but they made Takashi feel oddly better.
That's right—he was selfish and self-centered to begin with.
That was how he lived so freely.
Because he didn't have a conscience.
"Takashi, do whatever you want. I'll always have your back."
"No matter if it's the Sawamura family, the Kashiwagi family, or the Shinomiya family—I'll protect you from all of them."
"Remember—I love you, not some idea of who you should be."
Takashi was stunned for a moment, then gave a bitter smile.
"If you keep talking like that, I might fall for you. And if you ever break up with me, I'll kill you."
"Perfect. That was my plan all along. I only accept widowhood—not breakups."
Hitomi said it so seriously, it didn't even sound like a joke.
"That's not what you said before."
"No one told you? Pretty girls lie the best. And I'm very pretty."
There was a smile in her voice.
"Well? Feeling any better?"
Takashi closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again—his mind now made up.
"I get it, Hitomi."
"I'm hanging up. Oh, and come sleep at my place tonight."
Takashi smiled bitterly. "You really don't want to let me go for even a day, huh?"
"Sleep only, okay? What are you thinking, you perv? Stop filling your head with smut all day."
With that, Yozakura Hitomi hung up.
Yeah right. Just wait until tonight.
Takashi cursed her silently in his heart.
Every time she says it's just sleep—and every time, her hands start wandering.
But after that call, Takashi no longer felt so conflicted. Looking calmly at Sayuri, he said:
"Auntie, I won't go see Eriri."
"There's a saying where I'm from: a good ex should be like they're dead."
Seeing her again would just mean repeating the same mistake.
There's no point.
"…Takashi, you really are heartless," Sayuri said again, her eyes dim.
But truthfully, before she even asked, she had already expected this answer.
Because if Takashi had even the slightest shred of conscience—if he were even a little less resolute—he wouldn't have forgotten so quickly.
The truth was, Takashi was even more determined and ruthless than she had imagined.
"I understand. Sorry to have bothered you."
Sayuri lifted her head and was about to leave when Takashi said something shocking:
"The day after tomorrow. Bring Eriri to see me."
Sayuri froze, then sharply turned her head.
If she hadn't misunderstood, Takashi was saying...
"Bring Kasumigaoka Utaha as well."
"This time, I won't meet them as Watanabe Takashi, but as myself."
Takashi had no intention of meeting them using the identity of Watanabe Takashi—he would face them as who he truly was.
He was not someone who avoided confrontation.
Some things had to be said clearly. Some things had to be faced.
Even though he hadn't originally intended to explain anything...
It was just that Eriri and Utaha's current conditions were far beyond what he had expected.
Changing his mind had become unavoidable.
They had a right to know the truth.
As for what they'd do once they knew—that was no longer Takashi's concern.
"I'll tell them what kind of person they're in love with."
Takashi stood up and walked toward Kotonoha's table.
"It's time to go."
Kotonoha and Watanabe Akari stood up at the same time.
"Let Yukino's mom drive you. I'm going to spend some alone time with your 'Kotonoha mom,'" Takashi said, baffling the onlookers—but Hoshino Ai understood immediately.
She had once called Takashi "Dad."
The "Yukino mom" he referred to wasn't Yukino's actual mother—but Yukino herself.
"See you next time, Auntie."
Right in front of Mrs. Yukinoshita and Sayuri, Takashi boldly took Kotonoha's hand and walked away.
Seeing him take her hand like that, in front of all the adults, swept away all of Kotonoha's earlier displeasure and filled her heart with sweetness.
She had endured so much bitterness, that even a little bit of kindness was enough to make her happy.
"I suddenly understand why you wanted to punch that kid. I want to find someone to dump him into Tokyo Bay," Mrs. Yukinoshita muttered to Sayuri.
She'd never met such an openly heartless little brat before.
Sayuri knew she was just trying to comfort her, but she didn't respond. Instead, she picked up the phone and dialed her husband.
"Hello?"
On the other end, Sawamura Spencer's voice sounded worn out.
He'd exhausted himself these past few days taking care of their daughter.
"Honey, give the phone to Eriri."
"Okay, hold on."
…
Tokyo, inside a private VIP hospital room.
A white ceiling. A soft, bright light—not the kind that stings the eyes.
The scent in the air was faint and pleasant—nothing like the strong smell of disinfectant that normally filled hospitals.
Sawamura Spencer turned his head to look at Eriri lying on the luxurious single bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.
His gaze drifted to her wrist.
Her fair, smooth skin—like a freshly peeled egg—was wrapped tightly in gauze.
She had cut herself the day before.
If he hadn't found her in time, he might never have seen his daughter again.
"Eriri, your mom wants to talk to you."
He placed the phone by her ear.
Eriri didn't say a word. Her eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, like a lifeless robot.
"Eriri, I know you can hear me. I just saw Takashi."
Suddenly, in Eriri's colorless world, a bit of brightness returned.
Her eyes flickered with a trace of life. She blinked slowly and opened her mouth in a snail-paced whisper. "Takashi?"
As if trying to confirm it.
Her once sweet voice, like a nightingale, was now hoarse and grating—like time itself had left scars across her vocal cords.
"Yes. Do you want to see him?"
"I do."
"Then come to Nishinomiya, Hyogo Prefecture, the day after tomorrow. I'll take you to see him. But no more of this trying to die nonsense. Understood?"
By the end of her sentence, Sayuri's tone had become uncharacteristically stern.
"He's willing to see me?"
Eriri didn't seem to care about her mother's scolding. Instead, she smiled—for the first time in so many years.
"I knew it. There's no way he doesn't care about me."
She knew—as long as Watanabe Takashi knew she was hurting herself, he'd definitely appear.
He'd only been angry before. That's all.
"Do you really understand Watanabe Takashi?"
"Of course I do."
How could she not understand him?
"No, you don't understand him at all."
Before Eriri could respond, Sayuri calmly said, "Come to Koshien. You'll see the real Takashi. The one with no more masks."
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