Chapter 56: Echoes of Silence
The morning after the storm brought with it a rare stillness—both in the sky and in Naoto's heart. The sun filtered through the curtains in gentle golden slants, painting stripes across the polished floor of the Hayato mansion. Naoto lay awake in bed, staring up at the ceiling, the dull ache of yesterday's events settling into his bones like a heavy fog.
He had said more than he expected to say. Yet, somehow, he still hadn't said enough.
The memories of last night drifted back to him—Rika's trembling voice as she yelled at her father, the crack in her words when she looked at Naoto with disbelief, and Himari's quiet, firm support at his side. None of it felt real. It felt like the turning point in a story he hadn't been ready to tell.
A soft knock at the door broke through his thoughts. He sat up slowly, expecting perhaps Himari or even Aiko. But when the door creaked open, it was Rika.
She stepped inside, her hair still damp from a recent shower. She wore a simple white blouse and navy skirt—school uniform. Her expression wasn't angry anymore. It was something else.
"You're awake," she said quietly.
Naoto nodded. "Yeah."
She sat on the edge of the chair across from him, folding her hands on her lap, as if unsure of what to say next.
"Can we talk?" she asked.
Naoto gestured to the seat beside him. She didn't take it. "I'm sorry," he said first. "I should've told you sooner."
"You were protecting your mom," Rika said, her voice flat. "And your past. And… probably even me."
Naoto didn't answer, because she wasn't wrong.
"I don't blame you," Rika continued. "Not anymore. I blame my father. I—I don't know what he's done. I don't understand it all. But it hurt. It hurt finding out like that. And I need answers."
Naoto sat up straighter. "You deserve them."
There was a long silence.
"Will you come with me to talk to him?" Rika asked suddenly. Her eyes were filled with a vulnerable determination. "I want to hear everything from him. And if he won't speak to me alone, he might talk if you're there. He respects you."
Naoto hesitated, not because he didn't want to help, but because facing Shinji Hayato was something he hadn't prepared for emotionally.
But he nodded. "Alright. Let's go."
---
Shinji Hayato's office was as immaculate and cold as ever. Floor-to-ceiling windows cast a sterile light over shelves of leather-bound books and crisp paperwork stacked with military precision. Shinji stood with his back to them, hands clasped behind him as he looked out over the city.
"Father," Rika said clearly. "We need to talk."
He didn't turn around immediately.
"So he told you," Shinji finally said, his voice cool, as though he'd been expecting this.
"He didn't tell me everything," Rika replied. "But enough. Enough to know that you've been hiding things from me. Things about his family. About Mom. About your company."
Shinji finally turned. His face, as always, was unreadable. There was no surprise, no panic—only that same unnerving calm.
"I did what was necessary," he said.
Naoto's fists clenched. "Necessary for who?"
Shinji walked to his desk and placed a folder on the surface. "For this family. For my company. And for her."
He looked directly at Rika.
"Your mother's accident was not something we could control. But what happened after—that was a decision I made. I reached out to Hana Hayashi's husband to compensate him for a debt that was never supposed to be his. It was my fault."
Naoto blinked. "You knew… about the hit-and-run?"
Shinji nodded slowly. "It was one of our delivery drivers. He had no record. It was late at night. I paid for silence. I paid for protection. I paid to make it right, even though it was never truly possible."
Rika's hands trembled. "You knew and you never told me?"
"I couldn't. You were a child. You had just lost your mother's presence. You were slipping away. I didn't want you to see the cracks in this world yet."
Naoto stepped forward, his voice quiet but firm. "And what about my mother? She's still suffering. You paid for bills, but the weight of silence—you placed that on me."
For the first time, Shinji faltered. Just for a second.
"I didn't know you'd suffer so much. You were just a boy. But you were strong. Stronger than I ever expected."
Rika wiped her eyes, her voice low. "And what now, Father? You thought hiding everything would protect me. But it only broke me more."
Shinji turned his gaze to the window again. "You've grown up, Rika. That terrifies me. Because it means I can no longer protect you the way I once could. But maybe… maybe it also means it's time I let you see the truth."
He pushed the folder forward.
"This is everything. Every transaction. Every record. Every file involving Naoto's family and the company's role in it. You're old enough now. You can decide what to do with it."
Rika stepped forward and picked up the folder, holding it like a weight in her hands.
"We'll read it," she said. "Together."
---
Later that evening, Rika, Naoto, and Himari sat in Naoto's room, the folder open between them.
Pages of documents, statements, old letters, legal agreements—each one told a piece of a story long buried beneath corporate silence and emotional scars. They read in silence, hour after hour, while the sun set and the city lights flickered to life.
It wasn't everything—but it was enough to start healing.
Himari eventually closed the folder and leaned back with a tired sigh. "It's not just a storm, Na