Later that morning, as Kyouko stepped into the hallway, clutching her handbag and adjusting her dress, she found her mother waiting near the entrance.
"Y-Yes, M-Mother?" Kyouko froze mid-step.
Hanako narrowed her eyes, lips curling with soft amusement. "Where are you going?"
Kyouko fumbled with the strap of her bag. "Just... just going to the grocery store."
"No~" Hanako’s voice turned lilting. "You want to go to that seaside house. Because Haruki is there~"
"Yes? You’re not? Really?" Hanako tilted her head with a teasing smirk. "It’s only a few days until the wedding, isn’t it? Why not just wait?"
Kyouko lowered her gaze, biting her lip softly.
"Haruki just left yesterday, didn’t he? And didn’t you two already enjoy yourselves enough yesterday~?"
Hanako’s hand lifted playfully, forming a circle with one finger sliding in and out of it.
Kyouko’s cheeks flushed. "M-Mother!"
"I wasn’t going to stay long..."
"No~" Hanako gently stepped closer. "You’re staying here. It’s just a few more days before your marriage."
She turned and pointed toward the open courtyard.
Outside, the men of the family were busy.
Kitayama stood with quiet dignity near the Shinto wedding planner.
Beside him, Kazuma was arranging ceremonial lanterns with Kenji, her younger brother. The whole courtyard buzzed softly with quiet preparations: draped cloth, floral arrangements, and symbols of union.
Hanako’s smile returned. "I’m sure Haruki is also staying put and being patient, right?"
"...Mou~ Mother..." Kyouko whispered, her voice small.
Hanako raised a brow. "No means no. Or... should I call Haruki-kun?"
Hanako lifted her phone and casually tapped Haruki’s number.
Kyouko glanced up, suddenly stiffening as she realized.
"Shh," Hanako whispered with a smile, raising a finger.
"Hello?" Haruki’s voice came in, calm as always.
"Hello, my future son-in-law~" Hanako said playfully.
Haruki paused for a second, then gave a polite laugh.
"Your bride here was about to sneak out," Hanako added, glancing at Kyouko with a sly grin. "Should I be worried?"
Kyouko’s cheeks tinted pink. "M-Mother! I... I wasn’t—!"
"Ah," Haruki replied, his tone soft. "I’m sorry. I already told Kyouko—I had to return to Tokyo this morning. I left her a message on LINE."
"Oh?" Hanako tilted her head. "For what reason?"
"There’s some business to settle," Haruki explained gently. "Final wedding preparations. And... there’s a group I’d like to invite. People I want at the wedding."
Hanako’s smile softened. "Oh? That’s good to hear. And who might that be?"
Haruki’s voice grew slightly warmer, still calm, but full of quiet emotion.
"The people from the place where I grew up. Kyouko knows it well."
Hanako blinked, then gave a small nod.
"I see... I’ll ask her about it."
She turned her head slightly, just enough for Kyouko to catch the glance.
"See?" Hanako murmured with a smirk. "Haruki-kun isn’t there."
Kyouko, flustered, quickly checked her phone. Sure enough, a LINE message was waiting.
[Haruki: I’m heading back to Tokyo for a few days. Don’t worry. It’s not long. There’s a place I need to visit... the place we visited before. I want them at our wedding. I’ll explain later.]
Her eyes softened as she read the message.
The one that raised him when no one else would.
The one she visited with him.
Kyouko’s fingers hovered on the screen, heart fluttering.
After the call ended, Hanako lowered her phone with a small smile.
She took a slow step closer, and from behind, gently peeked over Kyouko’s shoulder, just enough to catch the message on her daughter’s screen.
The calm words. The thoughtful intent.
Hanako’s eyes softened.
"Oh... he really is a good man."
Kyouko didn’t look up right away. Her fingers lingered on the phone, lightly touching the screen.
"...Yes. That’s why I love him more, Mother."
"Since your future husband isn’t at the house... stay inside."
"Or better yet," Hanako continued, waving a hand toward the window, "go do some light exercise. Our backyard is huge enough."
"If you’re too lazy," Hanako went on, pretending not to hear, "then go rest. Or read something. Or—" she paused with a knowing smile, "maybe play that piano your father worked so hard to get for you?"
"Mou~ Mother..." Kyouko let out a soft groan, her cheeks warm.
Hanako tilted her head. "That piano sat silent for years after you married Satoshi. But your father never sold it. Even had it tuned just last spring. You know why?"
Kyouko looked away, silent.
"Because he still remembered the way you used to play it," Hanako said gently. "The way you used to smile."
Kyouko’s fingers curled lightly against her sleeve.
Kyouko walked slowly across the quiet room.
She stopped in front of the piano.
For a moment, she just stood there, her gaze resting on the familiar black lacquered surface.
Her hand hovered... then gently touched the edge. Her fingers slid along the smooth curve of the lid, following the shape she’d known since she was a girl.
Faint, quiet... but full.
The one she used to sing to herself in secret.
The one she used to sing for him.
That quiet song she wrote... not with lyrics, but with feeling.
That even before she could admit it...
Even before she dared speak it...
She already loved him.
It was after that first time.
After he touched her.
After he claimed her.
After he made her feel like a woman again...
She sat down slowly, the bench barely creaking beneath her. Her fingers rested over the keys, unmoving, as if asking permission from the past.
Outside, the wind stirred faintly through the trees.
Inside, nothing moved but the soft rise of her breath.
Her fingers pressed gently against the keys.
A soft, hesitant note bloomed into the air.
And slowly, the melody began to take shape, delicate, flowing, serene.
Kyouko played without looking down. Her hands knew the path. Her body remembered what her heart once poured into this piano.
The same notes she played that quiet night.
The same song she once sang softly for Haruki...
She hummed the tune she had written for him.
Back then, it was a secret.
A confession trapped in melody.
A trembling wish inside each note.
Her fingers moved gracefully, each motion calm, deliberate, flowing into the next like water.
There was no hesitation now.
And the man she would soon stand beside... not in the shadows, but in the light.
In just a few more days...
She would be with him again.
With the man who showed her what love truly meant.
Not the hollow duty she once endured.
Not the cold gestures or the silence of obligation.
The kind that held her when she cried without words.
The kind that touched her gently... and then made her tremble.
The man who cared for her, quietly, every day.
Who saw her as a woman before she saw it in herself.
Who loved her completely...
Just as she loved him.
The first man to ever introduce her...
To what passion truly was.
Not just the act—but the surrender.
The slow, burning intimacy.
The way his fingers worshiped her skin.
The way his breath against her ear made her knees weaken.
The way he entered her, not just her body, but her heart.
Her hands rested on the keys again, but this time she didn’t play.
Of the warmth of his chest against her bare back.
Of the way he always held her after...
As if afraid to let her go.