That night, Hikaru dreamed of her childhood.
She had been six years old then—perhaps a little younger. She stood in the grand hall of Ivan's residence, a place far too bright and far too vast for a body as small as hers. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, scattering light across the polished marble floor. Adults moved around her in quiet confidence, speaking in low voices about business, politics, or connections—things she could not yet understand.
In the middle of that vast room, Hikaru stood half a step behind Yuki.
Yuki looked different that day. They styled her hair beautifully, while her beautiful dress swayed gently with her every movement. In her arms, Yuki carried Ars. Though Ars was only a few months old, he was calm, as if the noise and luxury surrounding him had yet to reach him at all.
"It's good to see you again, Mr. Lobanov."
