-KOMORI RESIDENCE, PRIVATE STUDY ROOM-
-7:14 PM, FEBRUARY 14, 2017-
The Komori residence was quiet as always.
Warm lights glowed softly against polished wooden floors.
Outside—
Snow rested peacefully over the garden.
Inside a private study—
Bookshelves lined the walls.
A low table sat between two seats.
And across from it—
Rikuu Arakawa sat upright, trying not to look tense.
Across from him—
Ichika's father poured tea calmly.
"Sugar?" he asked.
"…No, thank you."
The man nodded and placed the cup in front of him.
Steam rose quietly between them.
For a moment—
Neither spoke.
Then—
"I watched your rehearsal yesterday."
Rikuu blinked slightly.
"…I didn't know."
"That was intentional."
A pause.
"You have talent."
The words came without hesitation.
Rikuu didn't know how to respond immediately.
"…Thank you."
Ichika's father took a slow sip of tea.
"You also lack formal training."
"…That's true."
"And yet," the man continued, "your performance held more weight than most trained actors your age."
Rikuu's gaze lowered slightly.
"I just act."
"No," the man corrected calmly.
"You understand."
The distinction was subtle.
But important.
Silence settled again.
Then—
"I would like to ask you something," Ichika's father said.
Rikuu straightened slightly.
"Yes, sir."
"What are your intentions with my daughter?"
The question was direct.
Clear.
Unavoidable.
Rikuu didn't look away.
"…I want to stay beside her."
"For how long?"
"As long as she lets me."
The answer came naturally.
Without hesitation.
Ichika's father studied him closely.
"That is not a plan."
"…No."
"Then what is your plan?"
Rikuu paused.
Thinking.
For once—
Not about survival.
But about the future.
"…I want to become someone who can stand beside her properly."
The words were simple.
But sincere.
"I don't know how long it will take," he continued.
"But I'll get there."
Ichika's father leaned back slightly.
"And if life makes that difficult?"
Rikuu's expression didn't change.
"…Then I'll work harder."
A faint smile touched the older man's lips.
"Simple answers."
"They're honest."
Another quiet pause.
Then—
"You stopped fighting."
It wasn't a question.
Rikuu nodded.
"Yes."
"Completely?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Rikuu hesitated.
Then answered truthfully.
"…Because I don't want to live that kind of life anymore."
"And before?"
"…I didn't think I had a choice."
Ichika's father watched him carefully.
"And now you do?"
Rikuu thought for a moment.
Then—
"…Now I want something different."
Silence filled the study again.
The snow outside reflected softly against the window glass.
Finally—
Ichika's father set his teacup down.
"You remind me of someone I once knew."
Rikuu looked up slightly.
"He was stubborn," the man continued.
"Made poor decisions."
"But eventually learned how to build something better."
"…Did he succeed?" Rikuu asked.
The man smiled faintly.
"Yes."
He stood.
Rikuu followed immediately.
"You may continue seeing my daughter," Ichika's father said calmly.
Relief didn't show on Rikuu's face.
But it was there.
"…Thank you."
"But understand this," the man added.
"If you ever become the reason she is hurt—"
Rikuu met his gaze.
"I won't."
The certainty in his voice was immediate.
Firm.
Ichika's father studied him one last time.
Then nodded.
"…Good."
-KOMORI RESIDENCE, FRONT GATE-
-8:02 PM-
Rikuu stepped outside into the cold night.
Snow crunched softly beneath his shoes.
The gate closed quietly behind him.
Ichika stood a few steps away.
Waiting.
"…Well?" she asked.
He walked toward her.
"…Your father is intense."
She laughed softly.
"That's one way to describe him."
They stood beneath the falling snow.
"So?" she asked again.
"He didn't throw me out."
"That's a good sign."
"…Yeah."
She studied his face.
"What did he say?"
Rikuu looked at her for a moment.
Then answered simply.
"…He said I could stay."
Her expression softened.
"Good."
Snow fell quietly around them.
And for the first time—
The path ahead didn't feel as uncertain as before.