-KOMORI RESIDENCE, PRIVATE DINING ROOM-
-6:18 PM, JANUARY 22, 2017-
The Komori residence did not resemble a typical house.
It was quiet.
Refined.
Minimalistic architecture framed wide glass walls that overlooked a snow-covered garden lit by warm lanterns.
Inside the private dining room—
A long wooden table sat beneath a soft chandelier.
Four seats.
Four plates.
Rikuu stood near the entrance with Ichika beside him.
He had cleaned up carefully.
Bruises hidden as much as possible beneath his collar.
His posture straight.
But the tension in his shoulders was obvious.
"You're breathing too loudly," Ichika whispered softly.
"…I'm not."
"You are."
He exhaled slowly.
"This place is bigger than my apartment building."
She almost laughed.
Before she could respond—
The door opened.
Ichika's father entered first.
Tall.
Composed.
His presence filled the room without effort.
Behind him came Ichika's mother, elegant but warm-eyed.
"Good evening," her father said calmly.
Ichika bowed slightly.
"Father. Mother."
Then she turned slightly.
"This is Rikuu Arakawa."
Rikuu bowed politely.
"Thank you for inviting me."
Her father studied him for a moment.
Not cold.
Just observant.
"Sit," he said simply.
They took their seats.
Dinner was already prepared.
A quiet, traditional meal — rice, grilled fish, miso soup, and carefully plated side dishes.
No one spoke for the first few minutes.
Not awkward.
Just deliberate.
Then—
Ichika's mother smiled gently.
"Rikuu-kun, Ichika tells us you enjoy acting."
Rikuu nodded.
"Yes."
"The theatre club?"
"Yes."
"Do you want to pursue it professionally someday?"
He hesitated.
"…Maybe."
Her father finally spoke.
"Maybe?"
Rikuu met his gaze.
"I want to. But I don't know if life will allow it."
The honesty filled the room quietly.
Her father did not react negatively.
Instead—
He asked another question.
"You work after school."
Rikuu's hand paused slightly.
"Yes."
"For your grandmother."
"…Yes."
Ichika's mother exchanged a brief glance with her husband.
Then she asked gently, "How is she now?"
"She's stable. For now."
The room quieted again.
Finally—
Ichika's father set down his chopsticks.
"Do you fight?"
The question landed directly.
Clear.
Unavoidable.
Ichika looked at him quickly.
Rikuu didn't look away.
"I did."
"Did?"
"I stopped."
Her father held his gaze.
"Why?"
Rikuu answered without hesitation.
"Because I don't want that life anymore."
Another pause.
"And what changed your mind?"
Rikuu glanced at Ichika.
Only briefly.
"…Someone reminded me there are other things worth protecting."
Ichika's fingers tightened slightly around her chopsticks.
Her mother smiled faintly.
Her father leaned back slightly in his chair.
"…You speak carefully."
"I speak honestly."
The two men studied each other in silence.
Finally—
Her father nodded once.
"That is acceptable."
The tension in the room eased slightly.
Dinner continued.
More normal conversation followed.
School.
Theatre performances.
Future plans.
And by the time dessert was served—
The atmosphere had softened.
When the meal ended, Rikuu bowed again.
"Thank you for the food."
Ichika's mother smiled warmly.
"You're welcome anytime."
Her father stood.
"I will walk you to the gate."
Ichika blinked.
"…Father?"
"It is proper."
Outside, the garden lanterns glowed through the falling snow.
Rikuu walked beside him quietly.
When they reached the gate—
Her father stopped.
"Arakawa."
"Yes, sir."
"You are strong."
The words surprised him.
"But strength without direction becomes destruction," the older man continued.
Rikuu listened carefully.
"If you intend to remain beside my daughter, you must decide what kind of man you will become."
Rikuu nodded once.
"I understand."
Her father studied him one last time.
"…You remind me of someone I once knew."
"Was that person successful?"
The older man smiled faintly.
"Eventually."
Then he opened the gate.
"You may visit again."
That was permission.
Rikuu bowed deeply.
"Thank you."
As he stepped outside into the snowy street—
He felt something unfamiliar.
Relief.
But as he walked toward the train station—
His phone vibrated.
A message from Masayoshi.
Masayoshi:
We might have a problem.
Rikuu stopped walking.
Another message appeared.
The guy you knocked out last night?
A pause.
Then—
He's not waking up.
Snow continued falling over the quiet street.
And suddenly—
The fight might not be finished after all.