Naea immediately stepped forward, creating a physical barrier between Akira and Zheng. She looked back and forth between the two breathing, disheveled forms, her hands trembling with a mix of shock and distress. "Will someone finally tell me what the hell is going on here?"
Akira, her breathing shallow and her fists still clenched tight, glared directly over Naea's shoulder. "Naea... your sweet student right there? She is nothing but a home wrecker."
Zheng's eyes widened with a brilliant, calculated flash of innocence. She looked at Naea, her voice laced with trembling vulnerability. "Miss Naea... that's not true. I don't even know why Miss Akira is saying these horrible things about me..."
Hearing the blatant lie, a fresh wave of blinding fury surged through Akira. She lunged forward again, fully intending to tear Zheng apart, but Naea's sharp, commanding voice cut through the air. "Akira!"
Akira froze. She looked into Naea's eyes, reading the deep disappointment and fear swimming in them. The sheer weight of that gaze anchored her feet to the floor, stopping her from taking another step. Shaking with suppressed rage, Akira firmly grabbed Naea's hand, attempting to pull her out of the suffocating room.
But Naea violently pulled her hand back, breaking the grip. She looked straight at Akira and spoke with a cold, definitive finality. "Akira... apologize to Zheng. Right now."
Akira stared at her, her mind completely spinning in a mix of confusion and deep, agonizing anger. "I am not apologizing to anyone, Naea! I didn't do a single thing wrong!"
From the counter, Zheng let out a soft, painful sigh, adjusting her posture. "Miss Naea... please, let it be. It seems Miss Akira simply prefers violence and fighting over anything else."
Before Akira could lunge again, Zheng's friend confidently stepped out from behind the stalls, seizing the opportunity to defend her side. "Yes, Miss Naea! Zheng is telling the truth. We were just standing here, having a completely normal conversation, and we have no idea what happened to Miss Akira. She just stormed in and started beating Zheng up out of nowhere!"
The collective gaslights completely destroyed the last remaining threads of Akira's control. Breaking past Naea with terrifying speed, she tightly grabbed Zheng by her frame. "You truly are a brilliant manipulator, Zheng Zhi," Akira spat out, her voice a deadly whisper before she delivered another devastating punch straight across Zheng's face.
Turning her head slowly, Akira cast a lethal, chilling dead stare toward the friend. Terrified by the raw, murderous intent in those eyes, the girl immediately scrambled backward, hiding completely behind Naea's back.
Naea's face turned pale. Realizing the situation was completely spiraling, she looked at the bleeding younger girl. "Zheng, take your friend and leave this place immediately. And please... if anyone asks outside, just tell them it was a demo fight... a fun sparring match gone wrong."
Zheng wiped the fresh blood from her lip, looking at Naea with a deeply submissive, reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Miss Naea. I won't say a single word to anyone."
Hearing that, a profound wave of guilt washed over Naea. She looked at her injured student, and right there in the middle of the tiled restroom, she deeply bowed her head, bending her upper body in a traditional, submissive Japanese apology.
Watching the woman she loved more than life itself lower her pride and bow down to apologize to a toxic manipulator... a sharp, agonizing pain pierced straight through Akira's heart. The absolute agony of that sight was something she could never find the words to describe.
Without saying another word, Zheng and her friend quietly exited the washroom, leaving the heavy door to click shut.
Now, only Akira and Naea remained in the silent, tense space. Naea slowly walked over to Akira, her expression softening as she reached up, gently cradling Akira's sharp face in her hands. "You know what, Akira? I trust you completely. I know you wouldn't just start a fight over some trivial, petty matter. But Akira... she is just a high schooler. She isn't even anywhere near your competition level. What do you even gain by beating her up like this?"
Akira looked directly into Naea's soft eyes, her own voice completely hollowed out by the lingering pain of the betrayal. "Naea, let's just leave this place. I don't want to stay here for another second."
"I want to leave too," Naea whispered, her thumbs gently brushing Akira's skin. "But please, Akira... just grant me this one single request. Today is her birthday. Just go out there and say a simple 'sorry' to her to end this drama. Please."
Akira's gaze turned incredibly firm as she pulled her face away from Naea's hands. "No, Naea. I will not say it. It wasn't my fault, and I have absolutely nothing to be sorry for."
Tears finally spilled over Naea's lower lashes, reflecting the dim restroom lights. "Can't you just say it for my sake then, Akira? You beat that poor child so brutally..."
"She is not a child, Naea!" Akira's voice boomed across the walls, a sudden, high register of raw frustration. "She is grown up! She is an adult! She knows exactly what is right and what is wrong—but she consciously chose a disgusting, foul path, and I simply delivered the punishment she deserved!"
Naea broke down, the tears streaming down her cheeks as her frustration finally boiled over. "Why the hell can't you just treat Zheng properly, Akira?! Huh? Why?! It's just a simple apology to end a fight! Is your massive Ego truly worth more than this?!"
Akira's expression turned completely cold, her eyes locking onto Naea with an unyielding finality. "If you think this is just my Ego, Naea... then fine. Let it be that. I don't want a single thing to do with her, I will never apologize to her, and from this moment on, she is banned from ever setting foot inside my house again."
Turning on her heel, Akira began walking toward the exit.
"Well, Akira," Naea's voice cut through the distance, stopping her right at the door. "If you are going to be so stubborn and change nothing about your stance, then you better listen to my terms now. Zheng is my student, and she will come to meet me whenever she damn well pleases. And as for this precious Ego of yours? Keep it to yourself. But from this second onward, don't you dare speak a single word to me either. If you can get this offended and unhinged over a young adult, then fine—let's see how long you can maintain this silence."
Without waiting for a response, Naea turned and stormed out of the washroom, her heels clicking aggressively against the floor. Left behind in the empty space, Akira's knuckles turned white as she squeezed her hands into furious, trembling fists, before marching out into the night, the fracture in her family officially complete.
Stepping out of the washroom, Zheng ran straight into Aunt Zhi, who was heading inside with a worried expression. Looking at the fresh bruises and the blood on Zheng's face, Aunt Zhi's heart dropped. "Good heavens, Zheng! What on earth happened to your face?"
Zheng offered a casual, dismissive shrug, trying to sound nonchalant. "It's nothing, Mom. We were just having a small demo fight... a sparring match that got a bit out of hand."
Hearing that it was just a reckless fight on her own birthday, Aunt Zhi's frustration flared. She delivered a light, reprimanding slap on Zheng's cheek. "On your birthday of all days? Have you completely lost your—"
Before her mother could lecture her any further, Zheng quickly cut her off, motioning toward her nervous companion. "Alright, Mom, let it be. I'm going to go drop her off now; it's getting late for her." With that hasty excuse, Zheng and her friend hurried out of the resort.
Anxious about what was happening inside, Aunt Zhi turned back toward the washroom entrance, only to see Naea walking out, her face pale and stained with tears. Without a word, Naea silently took Naria back into her arms from Aunt Zhi. "Thank you for watching her," Naea whispered hollowly, her voice completely drained of warmth as she immediately turned and walked toward the exit.
Right behind her, Akira stepped out into the corridor. Her uniform was slightly disheveled, her knuckles raw. She stopped in front of Aunt Zhi, her eyes dark but filled with a rigid, final decision. "Aunt Zhi... from tomorrow onward, you don't need to come to the house anymore. You have taken exceptional care of our home, and I am grateful. But right now, you desperately need to focus your care on Zheng."
Before a stunned Aunt Zhi could even gather her words, Akira turned on her heel and marched out into the night air.
By the time Akira reached the parking lot, Naea had already flagged down a local cab and departed, completely ignoring her. A surge of protective panic cut through Akira's anger. She slammed her car door shut, started the engine, and tore out of the resort parking lot. Driving at a dangerously high speed, she tracked the cab down the highway, expertly accelerating before swerving sharply to overtake it, blocking its path entirely.
The cab ground to a halt with a sharp screech of tires. Akira stepped out of her vehicle, marched over, and pulled the cab's passenger door wide open. "Naea... get out. Let's go home."
Naea glared at her, her eyes burning with unresolved fury. However, deeply loathing the idea of making a public scene or exposing their family issues to a stranger, she quietly unbuckled herself. Holding Naria tightly, she stepped out of the cab and slid into the front seat of Akira's car. Akira quickly settled the fare with the confused cab driver, got behind the wheel, and started driving again.
The silence inside the car was suffocating. It wasn't just a physical absence of words; it was a loud, roaring silence that echoed deeply within both of their aching hearts. Neither of them had any intention of breaking the freeze.
When they finally arrived home, Akira parked the vehicle and quickly got out, moving around to open Naea's door. But before Akira could even reach for the handle, Naea opened it herself. Clutching Naria securely against her chest, she marched straight into the house, completely bypassing Akira.
By the time Akira locked up and walked outside , she found the master bedroom door firmly shut—and the lock clicked into place. It was a boundary Naea never established, and it forced Akira to patiently, agonizingly wait out in the corridor. Inside, Akira's chest was ready to explode with a dangerous mixture of anger and betrayal—not toward Naea, but entirely directed at the venomous manipulation of Zheng Zhi and her friend.
After ten agonizing minutes, the lock clicked back open. Akira walked into the room silently, immediately changing out of her stiff formals into casual clothes.
Naea was already in bed, her side of the covers pulled up. Her eyes were tightly closed, feigning sleep. But the cruelest blow was the arrangement of the bed: today, Naea had placed little Naria right in the middle of the mattress, creating a physical barrier between them. Naea had completely turned her back to Akira's side, curling around the baby defensively.
Akira quietly slipped under the covers on her own side, staring blankly at the ceiling. Sleep was an absolute impossibility tonight. Her mind was trapped in a torturous loop, vividly replaying the image of Naea bowing her head in a submissive apology to a manipulative liar. She tossed and turned restlessly, her entire body aching for Naea's warmth. She desperately needed her partner close tonight to wash away the poison of the evening.
Slowly, carefully, Akira slid her arm across the mattress, attempting to gently lift Naria so she could bring herself closer to Naea's frame. But the moment her fingers brushed the baby's blanket, Naea shifted instantly. Without opening her eyes, Naea firmly pulled Naria even closer to her chest, entirely shielding the baby and locking her grip, refusing to let Akira bridge the gap.
Feeling the cold, unyielding weight of the rejection, Akira finally let her hand drop back onto the mattress. Accepting her absolute defeat for the night, she closed her eyes against the darkness, forced to endure the freezing silence of her own home.
The harsh light of the next morning broke through the heavy curtains at precisely 7:00 AM. Having barely slept a wink, Akira quietly pulled herself out of bed, careful not to disturb the silence of the room. Moving with muted steps, she walked into the bathroom, letting the hot shower wash away the physical exhaustion of the previous night, though the emotional weight remained heavy in her chest.
Once changed, she headed straight to the kitchen. Despite the bitter words that had passed between them, Akira's hands moved instinctively to prepare Naea's absolute favorite breakfast. The familiar aroma of the food filled the kitchen, a stark contrast to the freezing coldness that had settled over their home.
Carrying the carefully arranged tray inside, Akira walked back into the bedroom. She approached the bed where Naea was still resting, looking down at her partner's closed eyes.
"Good morning, Miss," Akira spoke, her voice dropping into a soft, quiet whisper that carried no trace of yesterday's rage. "Your breakfast is ready."
Naea didn't open her eyes. Keeping her face turned away toward Naria, she replied in a flat, hollow tone, "I don't want it. I'm not in the mood to eat anything."
The rejection stung, but Akira didn't let out a single sigh or push for an argument. Silently, she set the breakfast tray down on the side table. Right next to the plate, she gently placed a small, neatly folded piece of paper—a quiet, handwritten sorry note, swallowing her own pride just to soothe Naea's hurting heart.
Without uttering another word, Akira turned around and walked over to her desk. She gathered a set of highly important official files and documents, slipping them securely into her bag. Her expression turned tightly focused, the soft partner completely vanishing behind the shield of a disciplined woman with a mission.
Clutching the files close, she grabbed her car keys, walked outside , and stepped out of the house. The engine of her car roared to life in the quiet morning air as she drove out of the gates, heading toward an undisclosed destination to finally set her hidden plans into motion.