Inside the mansion.

The air in a main room was shrouded with the aroma of green tea and the heavy, stifling scent of herbal tea leaves.

Midorima Ryusui sat with a spine as rigid as an ancient cedar, his weathered hands wrapped around a ceramic cup of green tea.

The steam rose in a thin, erratic line, mirroring the coiled tension in his gut.

To any outsider, he looked the part of a peaceful village elder, but the sharp, discerning glint in his eyes revealed a man who had ruled this valley with an iron will for decades.

He is the father of Yuko, and the grandfather of Haruka. 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

Beside him, Midorima Miyako remained a statue of grace and silence.

Her kimono was of a muted, traditional pattern, but the quality of the silk spoke of the family’s deep coffers.

She had been the quiet force at Ryusui’s side, the one who smoothed over the jagged edges of his temper, yet possessed a terrifyingly sharp mind of her own.

She is the wife of Ryusui, the mother of Yuko and grandmother of Haruka.

"Is she really going to come back?" Ryusui asked, his voice a low rumble that felt like thunder before a storm as he stared into the green liquid of his tea, his brow furrowed. "For the past ten years, we have sent the formal invitations. For ten years, we opened the doors of this house, but she never appeared. Why would this year be any different?"

Miyako took a delicate sip of her own tea before placing the cup down with a soft, decisive click.

"She will," she said, her voice carrying a quiet certainty that brooked no argument. "She sent back a formal message this time. She said she will bring her daughter along with her employer, someone from the Kageyama Family."

Ryusui’s hands tightened around his cup, the porcelain groaning under the pressure. "Kageyama? ’That’ Kageyama? The corporate giants with reaches that extends from east to west? How did my daughter end up working for people like them? We are the keepers of the mountain, we do not bow to city merchants, no matter how much gold they pile in their vaults."

"Yes, that Kageyama," Miyako replied, her eyes narrowing as she recalled the reports she had commissioned. "And it is not the family as a whole that she serves. It is just him, Kageyama Seijirou, the heir of the Kageyama Family. And from the investigations I have conducted into their living arrangements... she is also his lover. And also Haruka’s boyfriend, apparently."

The silence that followed was shattered by a violent thud as Ryusui slammed his cup onto the low wooden table, the tea splashing over the rim, his face flushed a deep, angry crimson.

"What!?" he roared, his voice shaking the sliding shoji screens. "That girl... Almost twenty years ago, she got pregnant out of wedlock, bringing a shame upon this family that took a decade to wash away. Now, she is having an affair with a man half her age!? And if that’s not enough, she is sharing him with her own daughter? Is she really planning on angering me to death!? Is this her revenge against me?"

"Relax, Ryusui. Take a breath," Miyako said, though her own expression remained cold. "She is not having an affair in the traditional sense. Her husband, that man she insisted on staying with, had long since left her. He went overseas and vanished, leaving them alone and penniless in the city. That is when they started working for Kageyama Seijirou. As for Haruka... the reports were less clear about the nature of their bond, but the proximity is undeniable."

Of course, the truth that Yuko’s husband has been killed and used to feed the fishes has been known only to the Kageyama Family.

Not to mention the fact that Yuko and Haruka being kind of enslaved by Kageyama Hakari, Seijirou’s mother, and given to him, was known only to the party involved.

The old man’s breathing was heavy and ragged, but he slowly forced himself to calm down, leaning back against the tatami-matted floor.

"A Kageyama heir..." he muttered, his eyes distant. "How is she doing, truly? Those from powerful families usually only take lovers for the novelty of the experience. They enjoy the flavor of the older woman or the innocence of the girl until the thrill fades. Once he’s done with them, he will probably throw them away like yesterday’s garbage."

"Hmm. We’ll find out soon enough, won’t we?" Miyako noted, her ears catching the sound of footsteps on the gravel outside.

At this moment, a soft, respectful knock was heard on the sliding door.

"Come in." Ryusui stated.

The door opened slowly, and a servant knelt on the threshold, head bowed low. "Sorry for disturbing you, Ryusui-sama, Miyako-sama. But the young lady, Yuko-sama, has arrived. She is with her daughter and another... boy."

The two elders shared a look, a silent agreement passing between them.

"Bring them here," Ryusui commanded, his voice regaining its stony authority.

The servant nodded and left, the soft shuffle of their feet echoing down the long, polished hallway.

*

*

*

"Yuko-sama, right this way, please."

The servant motioned with a graceful hand, leading the way through the labyrinthine corridors of the mansion.

The air inside the house felt different from the village—it was cooler, smelling of aged wood and the damp earth of the inner courtyards.

Yuko, Haruka, and Seijirou followed.

Seijirou noted the way Yuko’s steps seemed to falter slightly the closer they got to the main hall, her fingers twitching at the hem of her blouse.

Haruka, however, remained an icy pillar of calm, her eyes scanning the traditional architecture with a clinical, tactical gaze.

Soon, they arrived at a large room overlooking a meticulously maintained rock garden.

The servant slid the door open, revealing the two elders sitting on the floor behind a low, dark-wood table.

Seijirou noticed Yuko taking a deep, visible breath, her chest heaving as she fought to maintain her composure before she stepped into the room and sat down in front of them, performing a formal bow.

Seijirou and Haruka followed her lead, sitting on the tatami.

Haruka took her place on Seijirou’s left, while Yuko sat on his right, the three of them forming a unified front against the mountain’s old guard.

"So you still know how to find your way back," Ryusui said, his voice dripping with a grumpy, begrudging tone.

He crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes fixed on Yuko with a look that was half-anger and half-sorrow.

"Yuko, dear, it’s nice that you finally decided to visit us. It has been far too long," Miyako said, her voice much softer.

She managed a gentle smile as she began to pour tea from a heavy ceramic teapot, serving them each a cup with practiced elegance.

She then turned her gaze toward Haruka, her eyes roaming over the girl’s face. "And the little Haruka from back then... she has already grown up. You look so beautiful, child. You are the image of your mother when she was your age."

Haruka offered a polite, shallow nod, her voice devoid of any warmth. "Thank you for the compliment, grandmother. It is an honor to be back."

"Father, mother—" Yuko tried to speak, her voice trembling, but Ryusui raised a hand, cutting her off instantly.

He ignored his daughter entirely, his focus shifting toward the boy sitting between the two women.

He glared at Seijirou, his eyes narrowing until they were mere slits of black. "It is you, right? The Kageyama heir?"

Seijirou didn’t flinch as he met the old man’s gaze with the steady, unwavering eyes of a Seeker. "It is nice to meet you, grandfather. I am Kageyama Seijirou."

Ryusui’s jaw tightened. "I don’t care for pleasantries. I want the truth. Is it true what the reports say? Are you involved with both my daughter and my granddaughter?"

Yuko’s eyes widened, her face turning pale before a flash of indignant heat colored her cheeks. "How did—...father, you’ve been sending people to spy on me!? In the city!? You have no right!"

"It was me, dear," Miyako said, her voice calm and level.

"Mother!? Why!?" Yuko stood up slightly, her voice rising in frustration. "Can’t I have a little bit of privacy! I left this house two decades ago! I am no longer a child you can control! I am a mother! I have lived my own life! I don’t need to be monitored like a delinquent!"

"Yuko." Miyako stared at her. It wasn’t a shout, but the intensity in the old woman’s gaze was like a physical weight. "Sit down. Calm yourself. We did what was necessary for the family’s peace of mind."

Yuko was immediately silenced, the decades of conditioning under her mother’s dominant stare kicking in.

She bit her lip and slowly sank back down onto the tatami, her hands trembling in her lap.

"Well?" Ryusui turned his attention back to Seijirou, his frown deepening. "I am waiting for an answer. Do you intend to sit there and lie to our faces in our own home?"

Seijirou stared back at the patriarch. He didn’t look at Yuko or Haruka for permission, he simply nodded firmly.

"I am, grandfather," Seijirou said, his voice ringing out clearly in the quiet room. "Both Yuko and Haruka belong to me. They are mine to protect, and mine to cherish. I have no intention of hiding that from you or anyone else."

The silence that followed was deafening.

Ryusui looked like he was about to explode, while Miyako simply took another sip of her tea, her eyes never leaving Seijirou’s face.

In the countryside, where tradition was everything, Seijirou had just declared a reality that defied every rule they lived by.