"Miyo…"
Kaito's voice softens as he looks at her.
"I'm always here."
"No matter what."
"You don't have to go this far… just to make me stay."
His hand rests gently against her shoulder—
steady.
Reassuring.
Miyo clutches onto him tighter.
"Kaito…"
Her voice trembles against his chest.
"You know I'm not afraid of anything…"
A pause.
"But losing you…"
Her grip tightens.
"That's something I can't endure."
Silence lingers between them.
"You probably think I'm selfish."
A weak, broken laugh escapes her.
"And maybe I am…"
Her voice lowers.
"I can't help it."
She pulls back slightly, just enough to look at him.
"No matter how complicated this is…"
"No matter how messy our marriage becomes…"
Her eyes search his—
desperate,
honest.
"I still want you there."
"Every time I come back…"
A pause.
Soft.
Fragile.
"I want you by my side."
She sobs softly against his chest—
her tears soaking into his shirt.
"It's all my fault…"
Her voice trembles.
"I shouldn't have acted like that… over that clip."
Kaito doesn't interrupt.
He just lets her speak.
"I'll handle it," she continues, pulling back slightly.
Her hands come up to cup his face—
trying to steady herself.
"I won't let it affect your release."
A faint, tired smile appears on her lips.
"Okay… husband?"
A pause.
"Maybe I'm a terrible wife…"
Her voice softens.
"But I'm not that bad of a friend… right?"
…
Friend.
The word lands harder than anything else.
Sharp.
Unforgiving.
Like it pierces straight through him—
again and again.
And yet—
he doesn't show it.
"Yeah…"
That's all he says.
A quiet, empty reply.
His hand moves to her head, patting it gently—
like he always does.
Like nothing has changed.
Like everything is fine.
She leans back into him,
collapsing into his arms as the alcohol finally takes over.
Her weight settles against him—
trusting,
unaware.
And he just stands there.
Holding her.
While something inside him
quietly breaks all over again.
Kaito gently wraps his arms around her—
lifting her with care,
as if she might break any further.
He settles her onto the bed,
pulling the sheets over her,
tucking her in with quiet precision.
For a moment—
he just stands there.
Watching.
The moonlight spills across her face,
softening her features—
making her look almost the same
as the girl he once fell in love with.
Untouched.
Uncomplicated.
…
"Friend… huh?"
He lets out a quiet breath,
almost a hollow laugh.
The word lingers on his lips—
bitter.
Mocking.
"You really don't know, Miyo…"
His voice is barely above a whisper.
"Or maybe…"
A pause.
"…you just chose not to."
His gaze softens again,
despite everything.
As if he can't help it.
As if he never could.
He leans down slowly—
pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.
Careful.
Familiar.
Like a promise he never spoke out loud.
Then he pulls back—
but doesn't leave.
Because no matter how much it hurts—
he still stays.
Morning light spills into the room—
soft,
uninvited.
It cuts through the mess,
falling across her face,
pulling her out of sleep.
Miyo stirs,
brows knitting slightly,
before she slowly sits up.
Her head feels heavy.
Her body—
even heavier.
She looks around.
The room is still.
Too still.
"Kaito…?"
No answer.
He's gone.
…
Her gaze drops to herself.
She's dressed properly.
Neatly.
Carefully.
A quiet breath leaves her lips.
Of course.
Kaito.
He's always like that.
Respectful.
Careful.
No matter how difficult she gets—
no matter how badly she behaves.
A faint ache settles in her chest.
Sometimes…
she wonders.
Maybe he shouldn't have married her.
Maybe she really did ruin his life.
Even if he says he's fine with it—
with this open marriage—
there are moments…
when she feels it.
Like there's something he wants to say.
Something important.
But he never does.
Strange…
isn't it?
…
She reaches for her phone.
Unlocks it.
And everything—
collapses.
Her screen floods with notifications.
Mentions.
Messages.
News alerts.
Her breath catches.
"Oh… shit."
The words slip out under her breath.
Her fingers scroll—
faster,
more frantic.
Everywhere—
it's the same thing.
Kaito.
Accused.
Dragged.
Torn apart.
A cheater.
A liar.
A perfect image—
destroyed overnight.
Comments pile up endlessly.
Mocking him.
Questioning him.
Judging him.
And then—
her.
Miyo.
Portrayed as the victim.
The poor wife.
The one who was betrayed.
Her grip tightens around the phone.
Her chest feels tight.
Because none of it—
none of it is that simple.
And yet—
this is the story the world has chosen to believe.
Her grip tightens around the phone.
She doesn't hesitate.
The call connects.
"Ren."
Her voice is sharp.
Composed—
but laced with anger.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"The entire audience is tearing Kaito apart—left, right, and center."
A pause—
but she doesn't stop.
"Is this what we're paying your agency for?"
"Just to sit and watch everything burn?"
On the other end—
Ren doesn't react immediately.
He listens.
Patient.
Measured.
Then—
"Mrs. Senpai Miyo…"
His tone is calm.
Almost too calm.
"We are handling the situation."
A brief pause.
"But this is a critical moment."
"If we release any statement without assessing the full scope—"
"It will only escalate things further."
Silence stretches for a second.
"I've already instructed Kaito to stay away from public appearances."
"Right now, the audience is… unforgiving."
His voice lowers slightly.
"And one wrong move—"
"could make this irreversible."
"I don't care how you do it."
Her voice turns colder.
"Just fix it."
"I want him back in their good graces—understood?"
A brief pause.
Sharp.
"Or do you want me to step in?"
Her tone hardens further.
"Because trust me—"
"That would be far worse."
A quiet breath.
"I won't be as patient with them."
Silence lingers for a second—
then she continues, more controlled now.
"Handle it properly, Ren."
"Carefully."
"Precisely."
"And stay in constant touch with Kaito."
Her voice softens—just a fraction.
"Make sure he doesn't take this to heart."
A pause.
Then, firmly—
"Don't let him break over this."
"Understood, ma'am."
Ren's voice remains steady.
The call disconnects.
…
Time moves quickly.
By the time the clock nears eleven—
Miyo is already getting ready.
The room is no longer a mess of emotions.
It's composed.
Controlled.
Just like her.
She stands in front of the mirror,
adjusting her outfit with quiet precision.
Not a trace of last night remains—
at least, not on the surface.
Because today—
she isn't just Miyo.
…
She is the face of something far bigger.
The sole successor of Sheinmei Yuki—
a name that carries weight in every room it enters.
Finance.
Construction.
Advisory.
Empires built across industries—
and she stands at the center of it.
…
Today's launch event—
Excel Enterprises.
A company known for its design and system innovations.
A high-stakes gathering.
Investors.
Media.
Influence.
Power.
And Miyo—
walks into it like she belongs there.
Because she does.
No hesitation.
No weakness.
Only control.
Because in this world—
emotions don't matter.
Reputation does.
And today—
she will protect it.
Flashes go off—
one after another.
Cameras.
Voices.
Questions overlapping.
Miyo stands at the center of it all—
composed.
Untouchable.
A practiced smile rests on her lips as she answers routine questions—
until—
a voice cuts through.
Sharp.
Deliberate.
"So, Ms. Sheinmei Miyo—"
A pause.
Almost mocking.
"Or should I say… Mrs. Senpai?"
The crowd shifts slightly.
Attention sharpens.
"What are your thoughts on the ongoing controversy surrounding Mr. Kaito?"
"The alleged betrayal scandal?"
Silence follows.
Heavy.
Waiting.
Watching.
Miyo doesn't react immediately.
Not a flicker.
Not a crack.
She adjusts her posture slightly—
then looks straight at the journalist.
Calm.
Steady.
"Is that relevant to today's event?"
Her voice is polite—
but firm enough to draw a line.
A brief pause.
Then she continues.
"This is a professional gathering."
"Let's keep the focus where it belongs."
A faint smile returns to her lips.
Controlled.
Unbothered.
"And as for personal matters—"
her gaze sharpens just slightly,
"they remain personal."
No denial.
No confirmation.
Just distance.
Power.
Control.
And just like that—
she moves on.
As if the question never had the weight they wanted it to carry.
The journalist doesn't back off.
"If I may—this is relevant."
His tone is persistent.
"Mr. Kaito is a public figure."
"The audience deserves to know your stance, Ms. Sheinmei."
A few murmurs ripple through the crowd.
Cameras refocus.
Waiting.
Watching.
Miyo's expression doesn't change.
Not even slightly.
She reaches forward—
taking the mic from the stand with quiet control.
"Well…"
Her voice is calm.
Clear.
"Since everyone seems so invested—"
A faint pause.
"I'll address it."
The room stills.
"All those separation rumors?"
She tilts her head slightly.
"They're just that."
"Rumors."
A few flashes go off.
"And as for the narrative being built around me—"
Her tone sharpens just a fraction.
"The so-called 'victimization'—"
A small, almost dismissive breath leaves her.
"Let me be clear."
"The entire scandal is baseless."
"It's nothing more than an attempt to tarnish Kaito's image."
The journalist leans in again.
Not satisfied.
"So you're saying this is the truth?"
"Or are you simply hiding your pain, Ms. Sheinmei?"
"Enduring a disloyal partner?"
A shift in the air.
Tension.
Palpable.
Miyo lets out a soft scoff.
Not loud.
But enough.
She looks directly at him—
unfazed.
"Curiosity is understandable."
Her voice remains steady.
"But being a public figure—"
she takes a small step forward,
owning the space completely,
"doesn't give anyone the right to intrude into our private lives."
A pause.
Sharp.
Controlled.
"I believe we're here for the Excel Enterprises launch."
A faint, polite smile returns.
"So let's keep the focus where it belongs."
And just like that—
she hands the mic back.
Ending it.
On her terms.
Backstage—
the moment the doors close behind her,
the smile disappears.
"Who the hell was that reporter…?"
Her voice drops to a whisper—
cold,
cutting.
"Asking me if I'm enduring pain…"
A short, humorless laugh escapes her.
"What an idiot."
She exhales sharply,
running a hand through her hair—
irritation flickering beneath her calm exterior.
"Does he even know who he was talking to?"
A pause.
Her gaze hardens.
"I could end his career in seconds…"
The words aren't loud.
But they don't need to be.
They carry weight.
Power.
Control.
…
"Victim…?"
She lets the word linger,
as if tasting something bitter.
Then scoffs softly.
"The joke of the century."
Her posture straightens—
back to perfect composure.
"Sheinmei Miyo can be many things…"
A brief pause.
Her eyes sharpen.
"But never a victim."
"Not now."
"Not ever."
By evening—
the narrative begins to shift.
A press release drops.
Carefully timed.
Precisely crafted.
And the internet—
stops.
Just for a moment.
…
Images surface.
Kaito—
lying in a hospital bed.
Pale.
Exhausted.
A stark contrast to the image the world had been tearing apart all day.
Not a scandalous man.
Not a careless husband.
But someone—
fragile.
Human.
Vulnerable.
…
The statement follows.
Clear.
Direct.
Unapologetic.
It claims that the circulating footage—
is being deliberately manipulated.
That an unknown party has driven a false narrative—
painting Kaito as a cheater.
Using edited clips.
Distorted context.
Even artificial intelligence—
to fabricate and amplify the scandal.
The tone is firm.
Unyielding.
"These allegations are baseless."
"A calculated attempt to defame."
"And legal action will be pursued against individuals and platforms responsible for spreading false and damaging content."
…
The reaction is immediate.
Confusion.
Doubt.
Sympathy.
The same audience that judged him—
now hesitates.
Because the story—
is no longer simple.
And just like that—
the game changes.
Ren exhales slowly—
the tension in his shoulders finally easing.
The moment the press release goes live,
the shift is almost immediate.
Subtle at first—
then unstoppable.
…
The narrative flips.
The same man who was being torn apart hours ago—
is now being seen differently.
Not a cheater.
Not a villain.
But a target.
A victim of manipulation.
A beloved star—
wronged.
…
Ren watches the numbers climb.
Engagement.
Support.
Sympathy.
All rising.
Exactly as planned.
…
And then—
Miyo.
Clips of her from the event begin circulating.
Her composure.
Her control.
The way she shut down the reporter—
clean,
precise,
unshaken.
It spreads fast.
Faster than the scandal itself.
…
"Strong."
"Graceful."
"Unbothered."
"She handled that perfectly."
The audience shifts again—
this time in her favor.
Not just as Kaito's wife—
but as someone to be admired.
Respected.
…
By the end of the night—
the story has rewritten itself.
Kaito and Miyo—
no longer a broken image.
But something else entirely.
Something people want to believe in.
…
A perfect couple.
Standing strong despite everything.
Admired.
Defended.
Watched.
The center of every conversation.
The apple of the public eye.
…
And Ren—
just watches.
Silent.
Because he knows—
this isn't over.
Not even close.
Back at the office—
the noise has settled.
At least on the surface.
Ren sits behind his desk,
Erika's phone in his hand.
The screen is cracked—
from when she threw it at him.
He studies it for a moment,
silent.
Thoughtful.
Not about the damage—
but about her.
Her reaction.
Her words.
"I didn't leak anything."
…
He exhales slowly.
Leaning back in his chair.
For the first time—
uncertainty flickers.
Because if she's telling the truth—
then this entire situation
is far more complicated than he assumed.
…
He runs a hand through his hair,
irritation giving way to something else.
Something quieter.
Regret.
"Damn…"
A low mutter escapes him.
He shouldn't have pushed that far.
Not without proof.
Not like that.
…
His gaze drops back to the phone.
A decision forming.
Clear.
Immediate.
"I need to meet her."
The words are firm.
Not as a command—
but as a conclusion.
He picks up his own phone,
already dialing.
Because this time—
he won't approach her as a problem to fix.
But as someone he might have misjudged.
…
And maybe—
someone who holds a piece of the truth.
The bar is loud—
dim lights,
music humming low beneath the chatter.
Ren steps inside,
his gaze scanning the room—
until it lands on her.
Erika.
Behind the counter.
Working like nothing has changed.
Like the world outside isn't tearing itself apart.
…
A man leans too close to her—
smirking,
entitled.
His hand lingers where it shouldn't.
Too comfortable.
Too bold.
Ren's expression hardens.
But before he can step in—
Erika moves.
Fast.
Precise.
She grabs his wrist—
twisting it sharply.
The man winces instantly,
caught off guard.
"Know your limits."
Her voice is cold.
Cutting.
"Idiot."
A few people turn to look.
The man pulls back,
muttering under his breath before backing away completely.
Erika doesn't chase.
Doesn't react further.
She just adjusts her sleeve—
like it was nothing.
Like she's done this before.
…
From across the room—
Ren watches.
Silent.
Observing.
And for the first time—
he sees her clearly.
Not as a problem.
Not as a suspect.
But as someone far more dangerous—
and far more composed—
than he expected.