August 6th, 2025
In St. Evelyn's Home For Children - 7:23 PM
The long mahogany dining table at St. Evelyn's Home for Children creaked under the cheerful chaos of dinner.
Laughter bounced off the walls as spoons clinked, forks scraped, and kids buzzed with stories. The warm aroma of baked potatoes, garlic bread, and roast chicken wrapped the room in homely comfort.
Ian sat at the head of the table, surrounded by Ellie, Mathilda, and the newer batch of younger children. He smiled softly, barely chewing his food as his mind wandered elsewhere.
Ellie and Mathilda chatted beside him, reminiscing about teenage antics and silly mistakes they'd made under the orphanage's roof. They giggled, elbowed one another, and sipped on grape soda like the old times.
But Ian was silent. He stirred his mashed potatoes slowly, as if the motion itself was mechanical. He didn't laugh at Ellie's jokes. He didn't even glance up.
Mathilda noticed.
"Hey, Ian," she said gently. "You okay? You've been spacing out like it's a job."
Ian blinked, smiled a little. "It's nothing," he said with a soft shrug. "Just good to be back."
Ellie rolled her eyes. "Wrong. I know you, genius. That's the 'I'm bottling something' face. Spill."
Ian sighed. "You never let a man keep secrets, do you?"
"Not when your eye twitches like that," Ellie pointed, grinning.
Ian let out a dry chuckle, then muttered, "I was just thinking about Victoria."
The laughter died.
Mathilda and Ellie exchanged a glance, eyebrows raised.
"Victoria?" Mathilda asked softly. "Why?"
You mean... you've seen her? You've met her? Recently?"
Ian nodded, pushing a pea around his plate. "Two years ago."
"What?" Ellie nearly spat her drink. "You've been sitting on this for two years?!"
"Well, you never asked," Ian said with a sly smile.
"Details. Now. Or I'm breaking your soda bottle over your head," Ellie demanded playfully, though her eyes shimmered with deep curiosity.
Ian exhaled. "She was shooting a film in Tokyo. Drama-romantic thing. I signed up as a part-time technical staff just for the gig. Didn't know she was in the cast."
"Fate's a cheeky bastard," Mathilda muttered.
Ian nodded. "First day on set... boom. There she was. Same eyes. Same energy. I froze."
"What happened?" Ellie leaned in, barely chewing.
Ian smiled faintly. "She invited me for coffee. Just to talk. Catch up. One coffee turned into two. Then three. Before I knew it, we were dating. We became a thing. Like the past never died. Like we were those two kids under the big tree again."
Mathilda's eyes softened. "So... what went wrong?"
Ian's smile faded. "It didn't last long. I ended it."
"Wait, YOU ended it?" Ellie nearly choked. "Why?!"
Ian stared at his plate, voice quiet. "Because back when we were adopted... she didn't fight for us. She didn't even speak up. I begged her to. But she didn't say a word. I realized - if she couldn't fight for us then, why would she fight for us now? When things get harder? When we're truly tested?"
The words hung in the air like thick fog.
Mathilda and Ellie didn't know how to answer.
"I loved her. I really did. But I couldn't carry everything again. Alone," Ian whispered. "It doesn't matter. My feelings are gone."
He stood, his chair scraping gently.
"Excuse me. I need some air."
He walked away without another word. Ellie and Mathilda just watched him, the table once filled with joy now left with silence and simmering emotions.
Last night in Tokyo, during Foxxy and Isabelle's concert. - 7:45 PM
Tokyo's sky had darkened to a dusky purple, casting a shadow over the Kawasaki residence. In her and Leo's room, Ruth zipped up the last of her sleek black suitcases.
Her passport lay on the bed, face-down. Her reflection in the mirror looked confident - polished makeup, elegant dark blouse, her lipstick blood red.
She was leaving for America. Her parents and the Kawasaki family knew it was for business. But she knew the truth. Because her real purpose...
It was for Ian.
She never let go. And she won't. Even hell froze over. He haunted her thoughts like an echo she could never silence. She had unfinished business - feelings, unresolved and burning. The business expansion was just a mask. Her real mission lay across the Pacific.
She adjusted her earrings.
The door creaked open.
Then...
Leo entered. Her husband.
They locked eyes.
His gaze landed on the passport, then the suitcases. His brow tightened. "Going somewhere?"
"America," Ruth replied flatly. "Work-related. Business expansion."
Leo scoffed, arms crossed. "I'm coming. No arguments."
Ruth turned to him slowly. "You can't. The Tokyo office needs leadership. You're essential here."
Leo's voice deepened. "I don't give a fuck."
"You're my fucking wife. That means it's my call whether I go with you or not."
Ruth raised an eyebrow. He'd never spoken to her that way. For once, there was steel in his voice.
"Fine," she said with a smirk. "But I'm going to be busy. No time for dates or romance."
Leo didn't flinch. He walked to the closet and pulled out a suitcase.
For a brief moment, Ruth looked at him with something unreadable - part surprise, part annoyance... and maybe, deep down, respect.
Respect. The man had finally grow some balls. Now, for Ruth, this just added excitement and thrill for her. She was obsessed to someone else, but her husband was trying hard.
She feels excited. She can't wait. She will savor everything once Leo knew everything. She couldn't stop smirking.
"Ugh, the look on this poor boy, when he sees me with my Ian passionately fucking me." Ruth's provocative thought.
Meanwhile....
A dimly lit room deep inside an underground gambling den. The air was thick with cigarette smoke and tension.
Lionel sat behind his heavy black desk, fingers gripping a piece of paper. On it was a detailed pencil sketch - unkempt hair, sharp features, a quiet intensity behind the eyes.
Ian Everhart.
He stared at it with cold fury.
The artist - the ex-ninja Ruth kept on payroll—had done well. Ruth wanted Ian watched. Stalked. Lionel wasn't stupid. He suspected something. And this sketch? It screamed of obsession.
A knock echoed.
He didn't answer.
The door creaked open.
And there he was, Daigo...
Working for Lionel...
Daigo stepped in, still limping from Ian's savage beating days ago. A bruise under his eye was fading, but the shame hadn't.
"Boss, we handled it," Daigo said. "The guy who tried to snitch? He won't talk again."
"He screamed like a little bitch when I was shattering his kneecap with a sledgehammer." He added, a vile smirk on his face.
Lionel said nothing. His eyes still locked on the sketch.
Daigo tilted his head. "What you got there, boss?"
Lionel slid the paper slightly forward.
Daigo's eyes widened. "Holy shit"
"I know that guy."
"You do?" Lionel's eyes finally met Daigo's.
"Yeah. That's Ian Everhart. We went to the same school. Total weakling. He was my favorite prey," Daigo grinned, remembering his glory days.
Lionel's stare darkened.
"Prey?"
"I bullied him like crazy," Daigo boasted. "Scared little rat. Hated confrontation. You should've seen his face when we - "
Lionel didn't respond. He crushed the sketch in his fist slowly, as if feeling every bone of a man he wanted to break.
"Tell me everything," Lionel growled. "Every. Damn. Detail."
Outside the door, the lights of Tokyo glowed like false promises.
And beneath it all, three fates moved steadily toward a storm.