The days that followed were quiet.
Quiet in a way Reina was still learning to understand. No shouting. No harsh footsteps. No doors opening without warning.
Morning light slipped through the tall glass windows of the mansion, spreading softly across polished wooden floors. Servants moved through the halls with calm voices. Meals appeared at regular hours. Work was given kindly, not as punishment. It was a kind of peace she had never lived inside before.
And because she did not understand it yet she treated it carefully. Like something fragile that might break if she moved too quickly.
Reina continued helping the servants with small tasks around the house. Sweeping the long hallways. Folding freshly washed linens. Preparing vegetables in the kitchen. She worked quietly, as she always had. But something small had begun to change.
Sometimes when she passed through the sitting room she noticed Hiro's mother watching her.
Not with judgment.
Not with suspicion.
Just... watching.
As if she were thinking about something. Reina lowered her head each time, unsure what the woman expected.
One afternoon, Reina knelt beside the low table in the sitting room, carefully folding a stack of freshly washed cloths. Her movements were quiet.
Careful.
As though she were afraid the room itself might scold her if she made too much noise. Across the room, Hiro's mother sat with a small bundle of letters spread neatly before her. She scanned each one slowly, occasionally dipping her brush into ink to write a short reply. Reina finished folding the cloths and began organizing them by size, placing them neatly beside the wall. As she worked, her eyes occasionally drifted toward the papers on the table. The rows of characters looked elegant.
Orderly.
Important.
But to Reina, they felt like a language from another world. Her gaze lingered too long. When Hiro's mother noticed, she lifted her head slightly.
"Reina."
The sound of her name made Reina straighten immediately.
"Yes, Mother?"
Her voice was soft.
Hesitant.
Hiro's mother studied her for a moment before asking gently,
"Can you read these?"
She slid one of the letters toward her.
Reina froze. Her fingers curled slightly into the fabric of her sleeve.
"I..." she began quietly.
The room felt suddenly much smaller.
Her eyes lowered.
"...not very well."
It was barely more than a whisper.
She waited for disappointment. Or perhaps irritation. Instead, Hiro's mother simply nodded thoughtfully.
"I see."
There was no anger in her voice.
No sharpness.
Just understanding.
She dipped her brush into ink again and wrote a single character on a blank sheet of paper. Then she turned it toward Reina.
"Do you know this one?"
Reina leaned closer. Her brow furrowed as she studied the character. She had seen it before.
Many times. But the meaning refused to come.
"...I'm sorry," she murmured.
Hiro's mother smiled gently.
"There is nothing to apologize for."
Reina looked up, surprised.
"You simply haven't had the chance to learn yet."
She placed the brush into Reina's hesitant hand.
"If you would like, we can begin now."
Reina stared at the brush resting between her fingers. No one had ever offered to teach her before. Not after her mother died. For a moment she didn't know what to say. Then she nodded slowly.
"...I would like that."
Evening came quietly. The estate settled into its nighttime rhythm as lanterns were lit along the hallways and the sounds of servants preparing the final tasks of the day faded into silence.
Inside Reina's room, she had knelt at a low table covered with sheets of practice paper. Her hand trembled slightly as she lowered the brush to the page. The ink spread slowly into the fibers of the paper. The first line came out crooked. She quickly tried again. The second attempt wasn't much better. Her brow tightened in concentration as she tried to remember the proper strokes.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
Each character looked slightly different from the last. But she kept trying. The room was so quiet that the soft scratch of brush against paper sounded loud. Reina leaned closer to the page, determined to get it right.
Outside the door, footsteps came up the stairs and slowly down the hallway. Hiro had just returned from reviewing the estate's ledgers. As he walked past the room, a faint light caught his attention. The door was slightly open. Inside, he saw Reina.
She sat alone at the table, completely focused on the paper in front of her.
The lantern beside her flickered softly, casting gentle shadows across her face. Ink stained the tips of her fingers. A small stack of ruined practice sheets lay beside her.
But she didn't seem to notice.
She simply dipped the brush again and tried once more. The same character.
Over.
And over.
And over again.
Hiro stood there for a moment longer than he meant to. Something about the scene was unexpectedly quiet.
Peaceful.
Then Reina sighed softly to herself and tried again. Hiro finally continued down the hallway. He said nothing. But for the first time since she arrived at the estate... he had stopped to watch her.