"Just because you’re the owner of some mid-level company, you think the world revolves around work!?" Kitayama’s voice thundered across the tatami, shaking the air in the room.
Satoshi remained silent, shoulders stiff.
Kitayama turned sharply to Satomi, eyes narrowing. "And you! Just like your father—work, work, work! You didn’t even bother to tell your mother that your husband was working here in Okinawa!?"
Satomi lowered her head, her voice small. "I... I didn’t know..."
Kitayama slammed his hand on the table.
"If Kyouko hadn’t told us Haruki was her son-in-law, I wouldn’t even know that man married you!"
"I’m sorry, Grandpa..."
"Sorry!?" he snapped, standing. "Take that sorry and ride it on your lorry! What use is sorry if you only bring it when you’re caught!?"
He pointed next at Satoshi, eyes blazing.
"Y-yes, Father-in-law..."
"Have you treated my daughter well!?" he shouted, voice shaking.
Kitayama stepped closer.
"If I ever hear, even once! That you’ve mistreated Kyouko..."
"I... I won’t..." Satoshi said quickly, sweat beading at his temple.
The room fell into a heavy silence.
Kitayama slowly sat back down, breathing hard.
Hanako watched quietly from the side.
She didn’t interrupt.
Because everything he said.
"I don’t play here, Satoshi!" Kitayama growled, eyes burning with authority.
"Y-yes, Father-in-law..." Satoshi answered quickly, barely able to meet his eyes.
Kitayama’s voice sharpened. "Call your husband. Tell him to stay here tonight. With us."
Satomi flinched. "But..."
"But what!?" he snapped, slamming his palm against the low table.
Satomi hesitated. "...He left his phone in Tokyo before he left..."
Kitayama stared at her, face blank for a second. Then—
"HAAAH!? It’s the modern day! You think I was born yesterday!? Even if he forgot his phone, don’t tell me your husband doesn’t have LINE? Instagram? Messenger? Twitter? He’s your husband and you have no way of contacting him!?"
Satomi opened her mouth... then closed it again.
Kitayama’s glare didn’t soften.
Because with every word.
He was starting to see just how broken things were beneath their perfect surface.
Outside, a car quietly pulled into the driveway.
But inside the Kitayama house, no one heard it.
Kitayama’s voice still echoed through the living room, sharp and relentless, his fury focused on the two kneeling in front of him.
Hanako stood nearby, arms folded, her eyes calm but firm.
Neither of them noticed the front door click open.
"I’m home~" Kyouko called out softly, slipping off her shoes with a small smile. Her voice floated gently down the hallway.
Her father’s voice was loud. Sharp. Still mid-scolding.
"Hmm?" she blinked, brows lifting slightly. "Who’s he nagging? Keiko? Kenji again?"
She walked down the hall toward the living room, her sandals tapping softly against the wooden floor.
Then she turned the corner.
There, on the tatami mat before her father, were Satoshi and Satomi.
Satoshi stiff, his hands resting flat on his thighs, eyes lowered.
Kitayama stood above them, his voice still rumbling.
Hanako glanced up, and spotted her daughter.
Kyouko’s lips parted slightly.
No one had told her they’d arrived.
And certainly not that they’d be .
Like guilty children in front of a parent who had finally had enough.
Satomi looked up as Kyouko stepped into view, her eyes wide with pleading.
Her lips moved in a silent whisper.
Kyouko met her daughter’s gaze.
She stepped farther in. "Father, I’m home~"
Kitayama turned his sharp gaze toward her. "Kyouko! Look at the time. Where have you been!?"
Kyouko didn’t flinch. Her tone remained light.
"Hmm? I already told you I’d be back before 7 p.m. And it’s still..." she glanced at the clock. "6:45."
"Oh... good." Then he turned abruptly toward Satoshi and Satomi again, pointing a firm finger. "See that, Satoshi! She told us where she was going. She didn’t go out without a word! And you two!? Work, work, work!"
Satoshi glanced at Kyouko, eyes flicking with a silent plea for help.
But Kyouko didn’t respond right away.
Instead, she walked past the scene without a word.
The clinking of ceramic cups and the low hum of the stove soon followed.
She warmed a small bottle of sake and set out two small cups, plating up a few slices of grilled meat with practiced hands. Her movements were calm, quiet, purposeful.
A few minutes later, she returned to the living room carrying a tray.
She knelt beside the table without speaking and poured a gentle stream of sake into her father’s cup.
Kitayama looked at her, eyes narrowing slightly, but softened as he watched her hands.
The tray between them. The steam from the cup. Her head bowed slightly.
Not a word of protest.
A woman who had learned to live in silence.
And yet, in that simple gesture of care.
There was more power than anything said aloud.
"Father... here, have a drink," Kyouko said softly, pouring the warm sake into his cup.
Kitayama reached out and took it, sipping with a deep sigh.
"Mm... see that!?" he barked after swallowing. "If not for her, I’d still be yelling at you two!"
Kyouko said nothing, just quietly poured him another cup. Then she sat beside him with calm grace, her presence soothing like a breeze after a storm.
Kitayama took the cup again.
Then looked sharply at Satomi.
"Satomi! Call your husband right now and tell him to come here!"
Satomi stiffened. "But..."
She hesitated, eyes downcast.
Then mumbled, "...I don’t know his new number..."
Kyouko gently shook her head.
Kitayama’s brows shot up. His body leaned forward, he was boiling again.
Before he could shout, Kyouko spoke.
"Father," she said softly. "I’ll call him."
Kitayama blinked. "Hmm? How do you have his number?"
Kyouko met his gaze calmly. "Haruki gave it to me before.He told me to pass it along to Satomi since he forgot his phone."
Kitayama grunted, leaning back.
"See that, Satomi!? If not for your mother!"
Satomi bit her lip, eyes low. "...I’m sorry."
Kyouko placed the bottle down. "Father, please calm down. I’m calling him now."
Kitayama exhaled, picking up another slice of grilled meat with his chopsticks. "Good. Call him. Tell him to come here. We’re drinking again."
He turned slightly, shouting toward the hallway.
From their room, Hanako let out a quiet sigh, but smiled.
This was the third night in a row.
She shook her head with amusement.
It was the first time in years she’d seen her husband this eager to gather everyone.
And even more eager to drink.