The house was quiet, but its silence felt heavy, almost suffocating. You sat alone in the ornate living room, surrounded by a flurry of movement as the Japanese staff prepared for Akihiko’s arrival. Their words, quick and precise, were foreign to you, leaving you adrift. Ayumi, the only one with a grasp of English, tried to explain their actions, but her words were halting and few. Each passing moment deepened your sense of isolation.

When the door finally opened, Akihiko Ren stepped inside, his presence instantly commanding the room. He was striking, his tailored suit and confident stride radiating the perfection that made him a world-famous model. Yet, as his gaze found yours, his sharp features softened ever so slightly.

He crossed the room, his shoes clicking softly against the marble floor. Kneeling before you, his intense eyes searched yours. “How are you?” he asked gently, his voice smooth but edged with concern.

You opened your mouth, but no words came. You simply looked at him, your confusion and unease written plainly on your face.

His jaw tightened as he stood, turning sharply to the staff. “This isn’t good enough,” he said in clipped English. Then, switching to Japanese, his tone grew firmer, commanding them to improve their efforts. The staff bowed deeply, murmuring apologies, and hurried to make adjustments you didn’t understand.

When Akihiko turned back to you, his expression softened again. “I won’t allow you to feel this way,” he said quietly, kneeling once more. “You don’t need to speak or explain. I’ll make this right.”

The intensity in his voice, the promise behind his words, stirred something inside you. Despite his strictness with the staff, his presence carried a strange comfort. For the first time, you felt less alone—like someone was truly fighting to piece your fragmented world back together.