Tokyo: After years of stagnation, the heiress of the yakuza arrives.

The next day.

Early morning, at the Miyazaki residence.

When Miyazaki Ritsuko came down from the second floor after changing her clothes, breakfast was already laid out on both sides of the long table. The morning light outside the restaurant's floor-to-ceiling windows was faint, and the neatly trimmed trees in the courtyard were shrouded in a thin mist. The servants' footsteps were barely audible as they came and went, with only the soft sound of porcelain gently falling onto the table.

She walked down the last step and subconsciously looked at the spot where her daughter usually sat, but didn't see her. Miyazaki Ritsuko paused for a moment and glanced at the time on the wall: 6:47.

It wasn't early, but it wasn't late either. According to her usual routine, Xiaoqing would either be quietly sitting at the table eating breakfast by this time, or she would have finished eating long ago and was ready to go out with her books and the materials she needed for the day.

More often than not, when Ritsuko Miyazaki goes downstairs, she only sees clean plates. If she wants to bump into her daughter at the breakfast table, she has to calculate the time in advance, and there is no guarantee that she will succeed.

It's strange today; the tableware is neatly arranged in Miyazaki Kiyoshi's seat.

A small bowl of rice, a serving of salt-grilled salmon, tamagoyaki cut into similar sizes, blanched spinach and a few pieces of seasonal fruit, miso soup in a covered lacquer bowl, and warm water placed in the most convenient position on the right.

It doesn't look exaggerated. There's no caviar piled up on the table in the morning, nor any strange ingredients with names that are hard to pronounce and have to be flown in to show off your high-society status.

The rice used is specially supplied Koshihikari rice, the salmon is delivered early that morning, and the vegetables, eggs and fruits all have fixed sources. The nutritionist has calculated the quantities in advance, and the chef makes everything clean, light and just right.

Simple, healthy, and very Miyazaki-esque, Ritsuko Miyazaki pulled out a chair and sat down. Without asking any questions immediately, she took the tablet handed to her by the maid, first reading through today's news summary, and then opening the schedule sent from within the judicial system.

There are two documents that need to be reconfirmed in the morning, a case briefing is to be heard before noon, and a closed-door meeting that has been postponed twice in the afternoon. Priority is marked on the back of several documents, and the assistant has even prepared the expected end time and the possible travel time.

Ritsuko Miyazaki ate her breakfast slowly while watching the show.

I ate only a small half bowl of rice, removed the skin from the salmon, took a few bites of spinach and tamagoyaki, and the miso soup was just the right temperature. It contained only tofu, wakame seaweed, and a small amount of mushrooms. The taste was light, but it made my stomach feel comfortable after just waking up.

Occasionally, a maid would pass by, bringing her a glass of warm water or placing newly delivered documents on the table, and time would pass quietly.

At 7:00 AM sharp, Miyazaki Kiyoshi did not come down.

At 7:10, the miso soup across the table had already lost its heat, the oil on the surface of the salt-grilled salmon was slowly solidifying, and the once fluffy rice was also starting to lose its temperature. The person in charge of breakfast in the restaurant wanted to go forward to replace it, but since they had not been instructed to do so, they could only stand aside and wait.

After reviewing the last schedule, Miyazaki Ritsuko looked up and gazed once more at the empty seat.

She hadn't come down yet? She had initially thought that Xiaoqing was just too focused on reading in the morning, or that she was temporarily handling some documents in her room and had forgotten the time. Although such things rarely happened, they were at least a reasonable possibility.

Kiyoshi Miyazaki doesn't need anyone to remind him what time to get up, what time to eat, or what time to leave the house, and he doesn't need servants to knock on the door and urge him.

From a very young age, she was able to organize her life like a precisely running clock. Even if she went to bed a little late the night before, she would only cut out some unnecessary steps the next day and not let time get completely out of control.

But now it's not just a little late.

In a little while, the driver should be driving the car to the main gate. Xiaoqing can only arrive at school early; she has never considered being late as part of her schedule.

Ritsuko Miyazaki put down her tablet and first looked at the middle-aged woman in charge of housekeeping beside her: "Has Kiyoshi already left?"

This was the first possibility that came to her mind.

Perhaps Miyazaki Kiyoshi changed her plans at the last minute and left early without having breakfast. Her subordinates simply didn't have time to tell her. Compared to the explanation that "her daughter hadn't woken up yet," this explanation is clearly more in line with reality.

The middle-aged woman hesitated for a moment, then answered in a low voice, "Madam, Miss hasn't gone out today."

"Still reading in your room?"

"They probably... haven't gotten up yet."

Ritsuko Miyazaki: "?"

She doubted she had heard correctly.

"What did you say?"

The middle-aged woman lowered her voice even further: "There's been no movement from Miss's room all day. We knocked on the door when we brought her warm water this morning, but there was no response. We assumed she was still resting and didn't dare to disturb her any further."

Ritsuko Miyazaki was stunned for several seconds.

Kiyoshi isn't up yet? Sleeping in? These two words are normal on their own, but when applied to Kiyoshi Miyazaki, it's no different from saying that Tokyo Bay has turned into a giant potato growing base overnight.

Ritsuko Miyazaki preferred to believe that her daughter had gone to school alone and never thought that the other would be sleeping in bed until now. It wasn't because she thought that Kiyoshi didn't need to sleep, but because Kiyoshi Miyazaki had never given anyone any room for such speculation over the years.

She glanced at the time; it was 7:17. School time was getting closer and closer. If she had just been reading and had overslept, it was impossible for her to have remained completely silent until now, unless… Miyazaki Ritsuko's puzzled expression suddenly froze.

Many years ago, a similar situation seemed to have occurred. Kiyoshi did not come down on time, and the room was unusually quiet. It was later discovered that she was not feeling well. However, since then, even when Kiyoshi was sick, she would arrange everything in advance and rarely let anyone notice anything unusual.

That's how that child is. He'll never speak up about problems he can solve himself, and he won't let anyone know about discomfort he can endure. It's as if the problem doesn't exist as long as he doesn't talk about it, and he won't owe anyone anything as long as he doesn't need anyone's help.

The more Miyazaki Ritsuko thought about it, the more her expression changed.

"Why are you only telling me now?"

Before she could finish speaking, she had already stood up from the chair, not bothering to listen to any further explanation, and turned to walk quickly toward the stairs.

The servants behind him exchanged glances and hurriedly followed.

"Madam, Miss doesn't like to be disturbed, so we..."

"Go get the spare key."

Ritsuko Miyazaki walked faster and faster, almost missing a step on the way upstairs. She grabbed the railing but didn't stop. Once she reached the second-floor corridor, she went straight to Kiyoshi Miyazaki's room. The door was tightly closed, and there wasn't a sound coming from inside.

Ritsuko Miyazaki raised her hand to knock on the door, initially trying to control her strength as she asked, "Kiyoshi?" There was no response.

"Xiao Qing, are you awake?"

Still quiet, Miyazaki Ritsuko's unease quickly turned into panic, and she knocked harder: "Kiyoshi, Mom is coming in. If you can hear me, answer me. Are you feeling unwell?" There were no footsteps behind the door, no sound of turning pages, and not even Miyazaki Kiyoshi's indifferent "Stop knocking" through the door after being disturbed.

This was more terrifying than any answer. Miyazaki Ritsuko abruptly turned her head: "Where's the key?"

"Send it over immediately, madam."

Hurried footsteps soon came from the other end of the corridor. The person in charge of keeping the spare key almost ran over. Miyazaki Ritsuko reached out and took the key. She didn't hit the keyhole correctly the first time, but she managed to insert the key on the second time. Click, the door opened.

Ritsuko Miyazaki pushed open the door and entered. The curtains in the room were still drawn, with only a sliver of morning light leaking in from the edge. The documents on the desk were neatly arranged, and the phone screen by the bed was off. The air was so quiet it was unsettling.

On the bed, Miyazaki Kiyoshi lay on his side in the blankets, his long hair spread out on the pillow, his eyes closed, his brows slightly furrowed, and his face pale in the dim light, as if he were enduring some unbearable pain in his sleep.

Ritsuko Miyazaki's head buzzed.

"Xiao Qing!"

She walked quickly to the bedside, touched her daughter's forehead, and then held Miyazaki Kiyoshi's hand outside the blanket. The temperature seemed normal, but at times like this, normal might just be an illusion caused by her excessive tension.

"Xiaoqing, wake up! Where does it hurt? Mommy's here, the doctor will be here soon..."

Ritsuko Miyazaki's voice was completely incoherent. She even started thinking about which hospital to contact, how many minutes it would take for the Miyazaki family's medical team to arrive, whether the road needed to be cleared in advance, and whether Xiaoqing had shown any abnormal behavior last night.

Miyazaki Kiyoshi, lying on the bed, frowned even more deeply.

A few seconds later, her eyelashes trembled slightly, and her clear, cool eyes slowly opened. Due to severe sleep deprivation, her eyes, which were usually so clear and almost transparent, were unusually filled with a layer of confusion.

She looked at Ritsuko Miyazaki, who was holding her hand.

Then I looked at the group of people standing at the door of the room.

Finally, she looked at her mother's other hand, which was pressed against her forehead.

Miyazaki Kiyoshi was silent for two seconds, his voice still slightly hoarse from just waking up: "What are you doing?"

Ritsuko Miyazaki: "..."

The crowd at the door: "..." The tense atmosphere inside the room inexplicably stopped.

Ritsuko Miyazaki maintained the posture of touching her forehead with one hand and holding her daughter's hand with the other. Her expression gradually changed from anxiety to confusion, and then from confusion to embarrassment.

It seems... she doesn't have a fever, and her voice doesn't sound so weak that she can't speak; she's just not fully awake.

"Xiaoqing, are you feeling unwell anywhere?"

Ritsuko Miyazaki was still worried and examined her complexion more closely: "Headache, chills, chest discomfort, or were you feeling unwell last night but didn't tell anyone?"

Kiyoshi Miyazaki did not answer immediately.

My brain, still slowly recovering from just waking up, was already flooded with my mother's overactive thoughts.

[The little one is awake now, her temperature seems normal, but no, just touching her isn't always accurate, we should use a thermometer...]

Why was she frowning just now? Was it a headache, or something else that hurt? She probably doesn't want to say...

The last time this happened was when she was sick. This time, there's not a sound from the room at all, and she doesn't answer when I knock. What if she's just putting on a brave face...?

Further ahead, there were empty breakfast seats, miso soup that was gradually cooling down, Miyazaki Ritsuko's rapidly losing control of her emotions after being told "Miss hasn't gotten up yet" when she asked if she had left early, and the step she almost missed while going upstairs.

The whole story became clear in a very short time.

Kiyoshi Miyazaki: "..."

So that's how it is. She just didn't get up at her usual time, and Miyazaki Ritsuko automatically pushed the matter to the point that her daughter was seriously ill, concealing the illness, and about to be sent to the hospital. She even thought of temporary traffic arrangements for several nearby roads. In a sense, she was very efficient, but the direction was not quite right.

"I am not sick."

Miyazaki Ritsuko continued to stare at her: "Then how come you..." Miyazaki Kiyoshi paused, then calmly gave her answer: "I just overslept."

Ritsuko Miyazaki: "?"

Overslept? Xiaoqing? Their Xiaoqing actually overslept? This statement was no less shocking than Miyazaki Kiyoshi suddenly announcing that she was going to give up reading and instead go to the streets to research brainwashing short films with Jingu Yoshiko, and even start a special movie-watching club for elderly women.

Ritsuko Miyazaki subconsciously touched her daughter's forehead again. Her temperature was normal. Kiyoshi Miyazaki looked at her, and Ritsuko Miyazaki casually withdrew her hand, but more questions were swirling in her mind. Why did she oversleep? What did she do last night?

Was she reading too late, or did she forget the time while working on some materials? No, Xiaoqing always follows her rest schedule even when she's reading. She knows better than anyone the impact of staying up late on her attention, memory, and physical condition, so she would never disrupt her routine for ordinary materials.

Did something happen yesterday?

Miyazaki lay quietly in bed, listening to all these thoughts without missing a single one, her eyelashes gently drooping.

What did I do last night...? The answer to this question isn't complicated.

It's just a little bit... not suitable for explanation.

Let's rewind to last night.

After 11 p.m., the Miyazaki family home became completely quiet. The corridor lights automatically dimmed, and the nighttime lighting in the courtyard was turned on only in necessary areas. The servants finished their final round of checks, and the entire mansion entered a fixed resting rhythm.

After taking a shower and drying his long hair, Miyazaki reviewed the last few pages of materials for the day, checked the things he needed to take to school the next day, and turned off the lights and went to bed promptly at 11:20.

Everything was the same as usual.

The phone screen by the bed was still lit, showing a picture from a luxury apartment several kilometers away. Kuroba Shido had already finished washing up and was lying on the bed in loose pajamas. The main light was off, leaving only a warm yellow bedside lamp. The thin blanket was pulled up to his waist, and his phone was casually placed next to his pillow.

Before going to sleep, Kuroba Shido patted his pillow with a sense of ritual, adjusted it to the most comfortable position, then turned over, closed his eyes, and remained motionless.

It looks like it has entered a resting state.

After observing for a moment and confirming that there was nothing else unusual in the apartment, Miyazaki Kiyoshi reached out and turned off the live feed, then put his phone back on the bedside table.

She closed her eyes, three seconds, five seconds, ten seconds...

Miyazaki Kiyoshi suddenly opened his eyes again.

wrong……

Kuroba Shido had just turned off the lights, lay down, and covered himself with the blanket, completing all the preparations before going to sleep. This did not mean that he was actually asleep, especially since the phone was just placed next to his pillow, not charged, and the background apps were not completely turned off.

Given Kuroba Shido's lifestyle, there is an abnormal probability in this final step.

Miyazaki thought quietly for a few seconds, then picked up the phone he had just put down...

The monitor screen lit up again, and Kuroba Shido was no longer on the bed.

Miyazaki Kiyoshi's gaze paused slightly. Two seconds later, a head slowly emerged from the side of the bed. Kuroba Shido lay on the carpet for a while, groping around until he pulled out a phone stand that had somehow fallen into the bed. He dusted it off and then climbed back onto the bed, satisfied.

With the stand in place and the phone secured, Shido Kuroba pulled the blanket over himself and comfortably lay down on his side, opening a video app.

"Wuhu!"

The surveillance footage revealed Kuroba Shido's incredibly excited, ghostly howls coming from the middle of the night...

Kiyoshi Miyazaki: "..."