Yukiko trembled all over. Kanjuro's words were like the sharpest blades, slicing open all her disguises. She looked at this 'demon' whose face had not aged, and at her daughter's eyes, which held a mixture of shock, curiosity, and a hint of... eerie excitement. She knew she had nowhere to run.
The shadows of the past, the bonds of blood, and the twisted, indelible obsession deep within her heart were like a massive whirlpool, pulling her tight and dragging her toward that predetermined, dark destination.
The aroma of coffee wafted through the air, yet it couldn't mask the suffocating truth and choices permeating this corner. Yukiko's defenses were crumbling inch by inch under Kanjuro's calm yet cruel words. Kanjuro's phrase 'return to the place where you belong' exploded in Mine Fujiko's mind like a thunderclap. All the clues connected at this moment—her mother's abnormal fear, Kanjuro's unchanging face, the eerie tension between the two that couldn't be ignored, and her own inexplicable flutter that mixed repulsion and attraction... A guess that made her blood run cold surfaced.
"Am I... could I be..." Mine Fujiko suddenly looked at Kanjuro, then at the pale-faced Yukiko, her voice trembling with disbelief, "Your... daughter?!"
Kanjuro didn't answer directly, but his silent gaze, filled with scrutiny and a hint of satisfaction as if evaluating a qualified masterpiece, said everything.
Yukiko seemed to have all her strength drained, slumping against the back of the sofa and closing her eyes, a silent admission.
"Kanjuro..." Yukiko forced her eyes open, her voice weak and raspy, carrying one last bit of struggle, "What else do you want to say? To humiliate me? Or to flaunt your victory?"
Hearing this, Kanjuro sneered, his laughter filled with undisguised contempt. He leaned forward, his gaze like a cold surgical scalpel, scraping away Yukiko's remaining self-respect.
"Humiliate? Flaunt?" He shook his head, his tone flat yet every word cutting to the quick. "I came only to take responsibility for my daughter." He pointed at Mine Fujiko, then his gaze turned back to Yukiko, becoming incredibly sharp and... disgusted.
He made an extremely insulting gesture—lightly spitting on the polished floor.
"As for you?" His tone was full of disdain. "A traitor, do you even deserve it?"
"You!!" Yukiko was so provoked by his extreme contempt that her whole body shook, her eyes instantly turning red with tears welling up—not from sadness, but from immense humiliation. "Why... why do you look down on me so much?!"
"Why?" Kanjuro spoke as if he had heard a huge joke, his cold gaze sweeping over her entire body. "You've remarried, you bear the 'Kudo' surname, you live in Kudo Yusaku's house, and you even have a son named 'Shinichi Kudo'. Where is there even a trace of my mark left on you? Aside from this ageless bloodline, in what way are you still worthy of the status of 'my possession'?"
He paused, his tone resolute, carrying a kind of twisted 'moral' judgment:
"I have no interest in women who are unfaithful in their feelings and forget their place. Even one more look feels dirty."
These sophistical and extremely double-standard words were more than Mine Fujiko could bear. She stood up abruptly, tears pouring out from anger and feeling it wasn't worth it for her mother, pointing at Kanjuro and rebuking him:
"What right do you have to say that about Mom?! You talk as if you're so loyal yourself?! Don't you have other women around you?! You shameless bastard!"
Facing her accusation, Kanjuro didn't get angry; instead, he let out a cold laugh, his chin slightly raised with an arrogance that looked down on all living beings, saying word by word:
"Because I have the right!"
"My power, my existence, everything about me is my right!"
"I can have countless others because I can control everything! As for you," his gaze swept over Yukiko and Mine Fujiko, "since you've been branded with my mark, you should have the corresponding awareness and loyalty! This is the rule, my rule!"
His logic was overbearing and twisted, yet it carried an indisputable sense of oppression stemming from absolute power.
"You! You bastard!" Mine Fujiko cried out, incensed by his blatant shamelessness and double standards, yet she found herself completely unable to refute this 'logic' built on the disparity of power.
Just then, Yukiko, who had been silently enduring the humiliation, suddenly spoke. She held back the agitated Mine Fujiko, her voice still carrying a sob but permeated with a sense of resigned calm, even... a hint of eerie defense:
"Fujiko, don't speak that way about... your father."
She raised her tearful eyes to look at Kanjuro, her gaze complex and difficult to discern—there was pain, there was fear, but deep down there still remained an indelible, twisted submission.
"He's... right. He does indeed have that right."
"His strength, his ability, that irresistible charm of his... it can completely overshadow everything of mine and keep me firmly in his grasp. It was me... I wasn't firm enough back then; I was the one who betrayed the 'rules'..."
Yukiko's words were like a final judgment, pinning herself to a pillar of shame and completely accepting Kanjuro's twisted set of values.
Mine Fujiko looked at her mother in speechless shock, then at that arrogant and cold 'father' who seemed to possess a demonic attraction. Although she felt this was completely unreasonable and utterly absurd, looking at her mother's complete surrender and even morbidly identifying gaze, and feeling the unquestionably powerful aura radiating from Kanjuro, she sadly discovered—in the face of absolute power and control, worldly logic really seemed pale and powerless.
This cruel 'fact' submerged her like a cold tide. Yukiko's words were like a stone thrown into stagnant water, trying to ripple out a bit of clarity. She looked at Kanjuro's cold, mocking eyes, gathered her last bit of courage, and poured out the truth she had hidden for years, her voice carrying a hint of urgency and an imperceptible sense of grievance:
"Kanjuro, you say I betrayed you... that's not right." She took a deep breath, meeting his scrutinizing gaze. "To me, I have never truly betrayed the... mark you left on me."
She pointed to Mine Fujiko beside her, who was still in shock. "Fujiko is the one I bore in secret, enduring fear and keeping the secret, and raised single-handedly. Flowing through her is your blood."
Then, she spoke the truth about Shinichi Kudo and this marriage. "Shinichi... he isn't my child. He is my sister's flesh and blood. My sister... she passed away very early." A flash of sorrow appeared in Yukiko's eyes.
"And Kudo Yusaku... he was indeed pained and lost after my sister passed away. But the person he truly cared about was Kogoro Mouri, his childhood friend who grew up with him." She paused, seemingly organizing her words. "When he learned that Kogoro and Eri Kisaki were only in a marriage of convenience and had no substantial relationship, he found me. He was worried Shinichi would have no mother to care for him, and I also needed a... superficial identity to hide Fujiko's existence and my ageless appearance. So we reached an agreement; we are only a couple in name."
She emphasized urgently, as if this were the most important defense. "We have always lived in separate rooms and have never had any... transgressive behavior. This, I can swear upon anything!"
She hoped that with this complete confession, she could exchange it for a sliver of his understanding, even if it was just a little.
However, after Kanjuro heard this, he only laughed out loud. There was no trace of emotion in that laughter, only a deeper coldness and an indisputable paranoia.
"Heh... No matter how high-sounding your words are, it won't do." He waved his hand as if shooing away a bothersome fly. "How could I ever allow a woman marked by me to live under the same roof as another man—no matter the reason? Just imagining that scene... makes me feel like it's an eyesore."
His extremely twisted possessiveness was like an iron law, allowing for no excusable exceptions.
The faint glimmer of light that had just ignited in Yukiko's eyes dimmed instantly, replaced by a massive sense of loss. She murmured, "Yes... I thought of that back then, knowing it might provoke you. So later, Yusaku... he mainly worked and lived abroad, and we hardly ever lived together again. Shinichi stayed in the country for school, and I... I took Fujiko and lived here, taking care of these two children's daily lives." Her voice grew lower and lower, carrying a sense of helplessness.
Kanjuro caught the detail in her words, his gaze suddenly becoming sharper as he sneered, "So, you are still helping raise that Shinichi Kudo? Even if Yusaku isn't around?"
Yukiko sighed, trying to explain that insignificant motive: "It's just... a little concern for a child. He is, after all, the child my sister left behind, and he knows nothing..."
"That won't do either!" Kanjuro interrupted her brutally, his tone decisive and carrying an almost absurd tyranny. "This is my rule! My woman must never help raise someone else's child—no matter who that child is, and no matter the reason!"
His "rule" was like an invisible high wall, cold and insurmountable, cutting off all explanations and all reason. In his dark and egocentric world, all the compromises and helpless choices Yukiko had made became unforgivable "stains."
Yukiko collapsed completely into the sofa, her face grey and defeated. She realized that no matter how she defended herself, she had already been condemned in Kanjuro's twisted logic. Beside her, Mine Fujiko watched her mother's humble defense being trampled so heartlessly by her father, her heart filled with a sense of absurdity and an indescribable coldness. For the first time, she clearly recognized how domineering and unquestionable her "father's" will was. Kanjuro's cold and uncompromising words pierced Mine Fujiko's last shred of fantasy like an ice pick. Looking at this man who was as handsome as a deity but whose heart was as dark and cold as an abyss, a mixture of anger, disappointment, and a certain fear of being abandoned surged in her heart.
"You... you're too domineering! This is completely unreasonable!" Mine Fujiko's voice trembled in accusation as tears slid down uncontrollably again. She had never seen someone so arrogant and self-centered.
Kanjuro didn't even turn to look at her, responding to her accusations only with the cold lines of his profile, his tone flat but carrying absolute authority:
"This is my rule. Whether you obey or not, the choice is yours." He paused, uttering the cruelest words, "If you don't obey, or even find it unacceptable, then..."
He turned his head slightly, his peripheral vision sweeping over the pale Mine Fujiko. "I can do without you as a daughter."
The words "do without" exploded in Yukiko's ears like a thunderclap. She broke free from the mire of despair almost instantly, bursting with startling strength. She lunged from the sofa, rushing to Kanjuro and grabbing his arm tightly, like a drowning person clutching at a last piece of driftwood.
"No! Kanjuro! You can't! You can't disown Fujiko!" Yukiko looked up, tears streaming down. Her previously feigned composure and humble explanations all crumbled, leaving only the most primitive and lowly plea. "She's your daughter! Since she was a child, she hasn't received a single shred of fatherly love! She yearns for it in her heart, I know! I beg you, even if you hate me, even if you resent me, please... please give her a little, even just a little bit of care and recognition, okay?"
She spoke incoherently, trying to use her daughter's lack of a father to move his heart of stone:
"She just doesn't know you well yet. She's stubborn and wild, but she's a good child! Once she spends more time with you, she'll definitely understand how good you are and accept you! Please give her another chance, and give me another chance... We've only just reunited after so long..."
However, Kanjuro only looked down coldly at Yukiko, who was clutching him and crying piteously. There was no pity in his eyes, only deeper annoyance and alienation.
"No need." He sneered, the two words like ice water, extinguishing all of Yukiko's hope. He used force, even with a hint of disgust, trying to shake off Yukiko's hand.
"I'm leaving." He turned away decisively, his back straight and lonely, without a hint of lingering attachment. "Since the truth is out, and your actions have made me see clearly. I will not forgive you."
This "I will not forgive you" was like a final judgment, casting Yukiko completely into hell.
Seeing that he was really about to leave and disappear from her life again—perhaps this time forever—the twisted, addiction-like love and dependence that Yukiko had suppressed for eighteen years completely erupted. She no longer cared about dignity or decorum, like the most fanatical believer who would wither if they lost their only god.
She suddenly hugged Kanjuro's waist tightly from behind, pressing her tear-stained face against his cold, stiff back, using all her strength to prevent him from leaving. Her crying turned into desperate, heartbreaking pleas and sobs:
"Please don't go! Kanjuro... I beg you... don't leave us..."
"It's been so many years... I've thought of you every single day... I know I was wrong, I really know I was wrong... You can punish me however you want, hit me, scold me, anything... Just please don't disown me, don't disown our daughter..."
"Without you... I can't live... I really can't live..."
Her words were chaotic and humble, filled with a pathological attachment. The once-glamorous superstar was now like the lowliest beggar, discarding all pride just to beg for a tiny bit of mercy from this demonic man.
Mine Fujiko watched dumbfounded as her mother lost her composure so completely, pleading so humbly to keep that cold-hearted father. Her heart was filled with a massive sense of absurdity and stinging pain. She felt both indignant for her mother and shocked by the twisted and intense emotional scene before her.
Kanjuro's footsteps finally stalled due to Yukiko's desperate embrace. He didn't break free immediately, but he didn't turn around either. He just stood there like a cold statue, letting Yukiko break down and cry behind him, pleading bitterly.
Under the dim light, the aroma of coffee had long been masked by the salty scent of tears. A distorted drama composed of paranoia, possession, humble love, and bloodline entanglements reached its most intense climax in this quiet corner. Kanjuro's next move would determine the final fate of these two women.
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