The air at the table shifted. The table was no longer just a lunch meeting. It was a waiting game. And everyone was wondering who would make the next move.
Daejin had no intention of saying anything. He had planned to finish his tea, leave quietly, and let the calm linger. But the silence stretched too perfectly, and that flicker of mischief in his chest refused to die down.
He leaned back, swirling the last of his tea, a faint glint in his eyes. He looked like a man about to toss a lit match onto dry leaves. "You know…" he began slowly, letting the pause stretch, "some people really do treat emotions like a game board. Move a piece here, knock one over there… all just to see who they can push out of place."
Hanna tilted her head, letting out a small laugh that didn't reach her eyes. "Of course. Just… funny how quick people are to believe what they think they see. Even when no one's actually sure what they're looking at."
Bora shrugged, popping another piece of sushi into her mouth. "Honestly, if anyone ever put me in a scandal, I wouldn't even mind. I'd just tell people it was good PR. Free publicity, you know?" She tapped her chopsticks against her plate for emphasis, grinning. "As long as they don't blur my face. I paid too much for skincare to end up a pixel."
A few soft laughs broke around the table, but Seri didn't join in. She sipped her tea without lifting her eyes, her expression calm. Junho's gaze flicked from Hanna to Seri before settling on Bora, his tone low and steady. "Scandals aren't a joke when they can ruin careers."
Bora held up her hands, feigning innocence. "Relax, Director. I'm just saying… if the storm's coming, I might as well pose for the picture."
Taehyun's eyes lingered on her, but not with amusement. He glanced back at Hanna, then Seri, reading the quiet undercurrents as if they were written in the steam between the teacups.
Bora's grin widened as if she'd just thought of the perfect way to poke the embers. She swiveled slightly toward Seri. "What about you, Miss Seri? What's your take on scandals and all that mess?"
Her tone was light, almost innocent, but there was a sparkle of mischief in her eyes…the kind that wanted to see sparks fly, especially with Hanna sitting just across the table.
Seri didn't flinch. She reached for her teacup, took a slow sip, and set it down with quiet precision. "I think…" she said evenly, "most scandals are born from boredom, not truth. People see a blurred photo, a half-heard conversation, and suddenly they're experts on someone's life. It's easier to invent a villain than to face their own emptiness."
The words were calm, but they landed like glass on stone.
Across the table, Hanna's chopsticks paused mid-air. Her smile stayed fixed, but her eyes sharpened just enough to betray the sting. Hanna let out a small, deliberate chuckle. It was slow, almost lazy, as if she had all the time in the world to aim her next words. "What a joke," she murmured, each syllable stretched just enough to sting. Her gaze flicked briefly to Seri before dropping to her plate, the faintest curve of a smile lingering at the corner of her mouth.
Bora's brows shot up. She looked between Hanna and Seri like she had just spotted two cats circling the same patch of sunlight.
Junho's gaze swept the table. "Enough." His tone was firm, leaving no room for argument. "We focus on the project. Everything else stays outside this room."
No one moved for a moment. Even the sound of the kitchen in the background seemed far away.
Taehyun glanced between Hanna and Seri, his expression unreadable, though a faint flicker in his eyes suggested he had already pieced together more than anyone had dared to say aloud.
Seri said nothing. She didn't have to. The table had enough tension simmering without her adding to it. She reached for her bag, rising from her seat with calm precision.
"Excuse me. I should head back," she said evenly. "There's too much waiting for me at the office."
Her tone was polite, almost detached, but the subtle shift in her posture made it clear. She was stepping out of the fire before it burned hotter.
Seri's voice was calm, almost casual. "Excuse me. I should head back. There's too much waiting for me at the office."
Taehyun set his cup down. "I'll drive you," he offered easily. "I'm heading the same way."
Before Seri could answer, Bora leaned forward with a grin. "Perfect. I'll come too. Someone has to make sure you two don't secretly plot world domination in the car."
Seri gave a faint, amused breath and nodded. "Alright."
She turned to Junho on her way out. "See you at the office."
Her tone was polite, but her eyes lingered for a heartbeat before she stepped away. Taehyun followed, Bora in tow, leaving Daejin, Hanna, and Junho at the table, the warmth of the meal replaced by something quieter… and heavier.
Hanna's lips curved in a faint smile, though her tone carried a pointed edge. "Hmm… they're always together these days." Her gaze stayed on Junho, who had yet to look away from Seri as she moved toward the door.
Daejin caught the shift in the air immediately. His eyes flicked between them, reading the tension with ease. He pushed his chair back and stood. "I should get the car," he said lightly, breaking the moment. "Ready to head back to the office?" He looked between the two of them, as if offering them both a way out of the silence.
They both gave a simple nod, no words following, the air still carrying the weight of what hadn't been said.
Kenji's house was quiet, wide, and almost museum-like in its design, filled with polished wooden floors and the faint scent of old cedar. Shadows stretched along the walls, the air carrying a stillness that felt both serene and guarded.
Seri stepped inside slowly, her gaze moving over the minimalistic decor until something caught her eye on a low lacquered table by the window. A small, worn rabbit plush sat there, its soft grey fabric dulled by time, one ear slightly bent, and a faded red ribbon tied neatly around its neck.
Her heart skipped.
She moved closer, kneeling to lift it into her hands as though touching a fragile memory.
"Hana-chan…" The name left her lips in a whisper.
A voice spoke from behind, calm yet tinged with something unspoken. "I thought you had forgotten about Hana-chan."
She turned quickly, eyes widening. "Oh my god… How could I?"
The doll pressed against her chest, she breathed in deeply. The faint scent was still there. The cedar drawer from the training lodge, exactly as she remembered. "I cried for weeks when she went missing. I thought she was gone forever. It was at Cloudspire, during the winter drills. Right near the frost bridge… remember?"
Kenji's mouth lifted faintly. "I do. She was under the bunk near the heating pipe. Damaged, but not destroyed. I kept her."
"She was my only friend when I had no one. My anchor," Seri murmured, a small smile breaking through her emotion.
Silence settled between them, the doll cradled in her hands like a piece of herself she hadn't touched in years.
"That's why I wanted to see you before the trip," Kenji said gently, gesturing for her to sit.
She took the edge of the couch, still holding the doll close. Kenji lowered himself into the chair across from her, his eyes steady but shadowed. "Kyoto may not be the same as you remember it. Once you step back there, things could feel different. Unfamiliar."
Her brows furrowed. "Different how? Is there something I should know… other than Iwao's orders?"
He exhaled slowly, his gaze dropping for a moment before meeting hers again. "Just promise me you'll be careful. No matter what happens ,no matter who stands beside you or against you. Don't let anyone pull you apart." His voice was firm now, protective. "Whatever it is, save yourself first."
Her fingers tightened around the plush. She sensed something deeper behind his warning but knew better than to press.
Kenji reached forward, brushing his hand over the worn fabric before lifting the doll slightly. His eyes traced the faint scar on its side — a small stitch of red thread, almost invisible unless you knew it was there.
"You always liked this doll for a reason," he said quietly. "She was different. Quiet. Fragile on the outside, but stubborn. Always stood back up when she was tossed around. Even when she got dirty or torn apart, no one could bring themselves to throw her away."
Seri's breath caught.
"She reminded me of you," he continued. "You clung to her because… maybe deep down, you knew you'd have to survive the same way. But even she nearly got lost in Kyoto."
He placed the doll gently back into her hands. "When you're lost, look at her. Hannachan wasn't meant to be left behind. Just like you weren't meant to walk this path alone."
Her grip on the doll tightened, her eyes locked with his.
"I found her when you were lost," Kenji said softly. "Maybe this time, she'll help you find your way back."
The silence that followed was not empty, but full of old winters, unspoken fears, and everything that waited in Kyoto. Hannachan rested against her chest, no longer just a toy, but a fragment of the girl she used to be, and the quiet strength she would need to face what was coming.