Ever since Yamato had stepped foot back into his own home after leaving the Sato Residence the previous night, his thoughts had been a relentless carousel of a single person: Yumi. No matter how many distractions he sought or how deeply he buried himself in his routine, her face—marked by that newfound, quiet softness—remained etched into his mind. Realizing he could no longer shake the feeling, he decided that a formal meeting was necessary to bridge the distance.
With a calculated breath, he dialed Naea's number. The phone barely chimed twice before she picked up.
"Good morning, Naea," Yamato's voice came through, smooth and practiced.
"Morning, Mr. Yamato," Naea replied, her tone polite but weary from the morning's emotional weight.
"Have you had breakfast yet?" he asked, easing into the conversation with a familiar warmth.
"Yes, just finished a little while ago," she answered.
Yamato paused for a heartbeat, his voice dropping into a softer yet steady cadence. "Uhm... I was thinking, if you're agreeable to it, why don't we all go out for lunch today? It could be me, Akira, you... and Yumi. And, of course, if she wants, she can bring the children along too."
Naea opened her mouth to decline, the weight of her planned cemetery visit pressing against her chest, but Yamato sensed the hesitation and cut in quickly. "Please, Naea. Just come as a good friend. I'll send you the location. Let's meet for lunch this afternoon. Bye for now."
Before she could utter a single word of protest, the call clicked shut.
Naea stared at her phone, utterly bewildered by Yamato's sudden and insistent invitation. Before she could even begin to process the logistics—or why he was so adamant about Yumi being there—a notification pinged. Yamato had already sent the location, punctuating the map link with a single, uncharacteristically emotional emoji.
After the call ended, Naea sought out Yumi, finding her in the quiet of the morning to relay the unexpected news. She explained that Yamato had organized a lunch—a gathering that wasn't just for the usual circle, but specifically included both of them and the children.
Yumi's reaction was immediate; a flash of startled resistance crossed her face, her voice rising in a mix of confusion and mild frustration. "Why didn't you just say no, Naea? How can we think about going out for a meal at a time like this?"
Naea met her sister's gaze with a weary, knowing look, her fingers absently tracing the edge of her phone. "I tried, Yumi. My first instinct was to decline," she admitted, her voice dropping into a softer register. "But this wasn't the usual Yamato. It didn't feel like one of his typical orders or a formal requirement. He wasn't demanding—he was requesting. It was a plea, disguised as an invitation."
She paused, remembering the abrupt silence that followed his words. "Before I could even find the right words to insist on staying home, he cut the line. It was as if he knew exactly what I was going to say and simply refused to give me the space to say 'no.' He didn't want to hear a refusal, Yumi. He made sure the last thing I heard was his request, not my excuse."
By the time afternoon rolled around, Akira had already retreated to the sanctuary of her apartment, having cleared her professional schedule with an efficiency that bordered on clinical. She had barely crossed the threshold of her home when the familiar hum of her phone broke the silence. Glancing at the screen, she saw a name that brought a flicker of annoyance to her eyes: Yamato. They had exchanged contacts during that fleeting, atmospheric camping trip in Osaka, though she rarely found a reason to use it.
She let the first call vibrate into silence, her silent protest against being disturbed. But when the second call immediately followed, she realized persistence was Yamato's weapon of choice. She answered, only to be met with his characteristically smooth, almost playful greeting.
"Hello, Silly Girl..."
Akira didn't miss a beat, her voice dropping into a cold, transactional tone as she sank into the depths of her couch. "If this is about work, say it. Otherwise, this call is exactly one second away from ending."
Yamato, seemingly unfazed by her hostility, forged ahead. "I've organized a lunch," he stated, his voice steady. "Just a small meetup. A chance for everyone to breathe."
"I'm not free," Akira countered instantly, her mind already drifting to the heavy, unfinished business locked behind her office doors. "I have a far more important matter to attend to."
But Yamato wasn't asking; he was informing. "Lunch is at three. Naea and Yumi will be there, and so will I." His tone shifted, carrying an unspoken weight that suggested her presence wasn't optional. "Just be there." Before she could formulate a rebuttal or demand an explanation, the line went dead.
Akira stared at the darkened screen, a rare moment of genuine confusion clouding her sharp features. She couldn't fathom what Yamato was orchestrating or why he was suddenly acting as the glue for this fractured group. Deciding that overthinking it would only drain her further, she pushed the mystery aside. She moved to freshen up, the cool water a brief respite, before eventually surrendering to the exhaustion of the past few days. Closing her eyes, she let a heavy, dreamless nap take over, leaving the questions of the 3:00 PM lunch for her future self to answer.
The precision of the afternoon was shattered at 2:30 PM by the persistent vibration of Akira's phone. She groaned, her hand hovering over the screen to end the call, but a sudden thought paralyzed her: Naea. For reasons she couldn't quite articulate to herself, the prospect of Naea being there pulled at her more than the comfort of her bed. With a surge of uncharacteristic energy, she threw on a sharp casual outfit and paused only to check the locked door. The killer was still there, likely surrendered to a hunger-induced sleep, the blindfold still firmly in place.
Akira didn't linger. She grabbed her keys, navigated her car out of the parking garage, and made the twenty-minute dash to the venue. She arrived just as Yamato was stepping out of his vehicle.
"I knew you'd come," Yamato said, a knowing smile playing on his lips.
Akira didn't even look at him as she walked toward the entrance. "I didn't come here for you."
Yamato let out a short, dry smirk, his eyes fixed on the distance. "Hmm... Well, the reason we're both here has just arrived."
A prickle of unease ran down Akira's spine. Instead of turning around, she used the dark reflection in the restaurant's glass door to see behind her. Naea and Yumi were approaching, with Shuzo and Sui skipping along beside them. Akira frowned internally. The reason we are both here? What did Yamato mean by that?
"Welcome, beautiful ladies," Yamato announced, his voice smooth.
Naea offered a polite smile while Yumi gave a soft, genuine thank you. Then, Yamato knelt slightly to match the children's height. "And welcome, my sweethearts." The kids beamed, and even Yumi couldn't hide the maternal glow in her eyes. It was a bittersweet sight; Shuzo and Sui had never known a father's warmth from Minato Takahashi, but in Yamato's steady presence, they seemed to have found a guardian who treated them with the tenderness they had always lacked.
The group settled at a large table, and the atmosphere was surprisingly light until the waiter arrived with the menus.
Yamato glanced at Akira with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "By the way, everyone, today's lunch is on Akira. She's insisted on paying, so please, order whatever your heart desires."
Akira shot him a look so cold it could have frozen the water glasses on the table, but she remained silent, her jaw tight.
As the meals arrived, the table was filled with the sound of conversation—mostly the children chattering with Yamato while the women listened and reacted. Naea, however, remained unusually quiet, nursing a single cold coffee. Once she finished, she set her napkin down.
"I'm sorry, guys," Naea said, her voice steady but distant. "I have somewhere else I need to be. I've finished my drink, so I'll be taking my leave now." She turned to Yamato. "Mr. Yamato, it was good to see you again. If it isn't a problem, could you please drop Yumi and the kids home? I might be gone longer than expected."
Yamato's smile was reassuring. "Naea, if you've asked, consider it done."
With a small, tight smile, Naea turned and walked toward the exit. Akira watched her go, a sharp pang of irritation—or perhaps hurt—stabbing at her. Throughout the entire lunch, Naea had spoken to everyone except her. The silence between them was deafening.
Trying to mask her frustration, Akira snapped the menu open, refusing to look at Yamato or Yumi. "Would you like some wine with fried chicken?" she asked, her voice clipped.
"Why not? Since it's your treat," Yamato quipped.
Ignoring him, Akira looked at Yumi. "What about you, Yumi?"
Before Yumi could decline, Shuzo piped up, "I want a cold drink!" and little Sui added, "And a strawberry shake for me!"
Akira placed the order, the table falling into a momentary lull until Sui looked up at her mother. "Mom, where did Auntie Naea go?"
Yumi's voice was a soft, somber whisper. "She went to visit her father."
The air at the table turned heavy. Both Yamato and Akira fell silent, the weight of Yumi's words sinking in. They understood immediately. Naea wasn't just running an errand; she was going to the one place where she could finally speak the truths she couldn't say aloud.
As Naea's car vanished into the distance, a comfortable, almost domestic silence settled between Yamato and Yumi. Akira, watching them from across the table, didn't miss the lingering glances or the softness in their voices. Her analytical mind, always sharp, reached a conclusion instantly: they weren't just friends; they were two souls quietly orbiting each other.
Breaking the silence with her usual bluntness, Akira leaned back and gestured toward them. "If you two like each other this much, why not just confess and get married? Why keep it all bottled up inside?"
Yamato nearly choked on his drink. "Akira! What on earth are you talking about?"
Yumi, caught completely off guard, felt a deep crimson flush creep up her neck. She looked down, unable to meet anyone's eye, part shy and part flustered.
"Did I say something wrong?" Akira countered, her eyes moving between the two. "It's obvious you're perfect for each other. You have my approval, for what it's worth. Just get married, strengthen your bond, and maybe have a child together—a living symbol of your love."
"Akira! That's enough!" Yamato barked, his voice sharp with embarrassment as he gestured toward the children. "Keep your nonsense to yourself. There are kids at the table."
Akira turned her gaze to Yumi, her tone softening but remaining firm. "I don't know what your life with Minato was like, Yumi. But I know this: by marrying Yamato, you'd find more than just a husband. You'd find the father your children deserve."
Yumi ducked her head even lower, her heart hammering against her ribs. Yamato, reaching his limit, slammed his hand lightly on the table. "Enough, Akira. You've said more than your share."
Akira simply picked up her glass and took a slow, deliberate sip of water. But Yamato wasn't finished. A smirk played on his lips as he leaned forward. "You're giving out quite a lot of advice today, Prosecutor. Maybe if you applied some of that 'wisdom' to yourself, you might actually find the love you're searching for."
Akira set her glass down with a clinical click. "I have a distaste for love," she said coldly.
"Liar," Yamato shot back, his smirk widening. "You didn't come here for the food. You came here for her."
Akira's expression faltered, replaced by a look of genuine confusion. "That's absurd."
"But your eyes don't lie, do they?" Yumi added softly, her voice steady for the first time.
The table went still. Yumi turned to Shuzo and Sui, her voice maternal and gentle. "Sweeties, why don't you go over to the counter and pick out your favorite ice creams? I need to have a private word with the Prosecutor." As the children skipped away, followed by a watchful waiter, Yumi turned back to Akira.
"Tell us then," Yumi challenged. "Who is it that you love?"
Before Akira could summon a lie, Yumi spoke the name that had been hanging in the air like a bated breath.
"Naea Sato."
The name hit Akira like a physical blow. She didn't deny it; she couldn't. She simply lowered her gaze to the tablecloth, her usual defenses crumbling.
"We noticed it at the campsite, Akira," Yamato added, his voice dropping to a serious tone. "When you were singing... your eyes were wet with unshed tears. You were looking right at Naea. You can deny it to us a thousand times, but your heart knows the truth."
"In this world," Yumi said, her voice filled with empathy, "love doesn't care about labels. It only cares about the bond. I don't know what's in Naea's heart, or if she even understands her own feelings yet, but in your heart... there is only one name."
As the words left Yumi's lips, Akira felt her heart skip a violent beat. A single, solitary tear escaped her eye and traced a path down her cheek. Without a word, she stood up, the chair scraping against the floor.
"The lunch was... pleasant," Akira managed to say, her voice tight.
"Where are you going?" Yumi asked.
"Home," Akira replied, turning and walking away before they could see another tear fall.
Yamato watched her retreating figure and sighed. "What a stubborn liar."
But Yumi shook her head, a soft smile appearing on her face. "No. She told the truth. She isn't going back to that empty apartment she calls a house. She's going to the only place where her heart actually beats. She's going to Naea."
Yamato looked at Yumi, impressed. "Your observation skills are incredible, Yumi. I have to give it to you."
Yumi turned her gaze toward Yamato, her eyes sparkling with a sudden, bold resolve. "Well, Akira's observation wasn't bad either." She paused, her smile turning shy but certain. "Mr. Yamato... if you like me... then let's get married."