The sun had long set over the Kazama estate, casting the traditional compound in a hush of golden lamplight and stillness. Ren Kazama stepped out of his car, fatigue clinging to his frame after a long day at the office.
He slipped off his shoes at the entrance and loosened his tie, his body carrying the quiet weariness of a long day.
He had barely turned toward the corridor leading to his study when a familiar voice called out, soft yet firm, like the breeze before rainfall.
"Ren… come have tea with me, just for a moment."
He paused.
In the quiet tearoom, his grandmother, Chiyo, waited by the low table. She was dressed in an elegant but simple lilac kimono, her silver hair pinned into a soft bun. The scent of jasmine tea lingered in the air as steam rose gently from two porcelain cups. She looked up and smiled, eyes warm with affection.
Ren entered with a quiet sigh and took a seat across from her, folding his long legs under the table. "You're still up."
Chiyo passed him a teacup with both hands, her movements graceful. "I like to wait for you. You always come home so late."
"You're home late again," she noted, pouring a second cup for him before he could speak.
He accepted the cup with a nod of thanks, letting the silence settle between them like an old friend. It was the kind of silence they were both comfortable with—no pressure, no expectations. Just presence.
After a sip, Chiyo's voice returned, thoughtful and light. "Daiki mentioned something interesting today. Said there's a new part-time helper in the office. A college student, I believe?"
Ren's fingers paused around his cup. "…Yes. Just someone helping with administrative overflow."
Chiyo smiled gently. "Is that so?"
It was only a curiosity tempered by a grandmother's quiet hope. She watched him carefully, noting the faint change in his expression. A slight furrow between his brows. A hesitation she rarely saw in him.
"I thought you might tell me yourself," she added softly, not unkindly. "You've never really spoken of any woman in your life, not since you were a boy."
Ren didn't respond right away. His gaze lowered briefly, then returned to his tea.
Chiyo's voice remained calm, but her eyes were full of the wisdom of years. "I worry sometimes," she said gently. "You've carried the weight of this family since you were so young. You've always been strong… but even strong people need someone by their side. Someone who sees them not as a Kazama, but as Ren."
He looked up then, his expression unreadable.
She offered a smile, tender and understanding. "I'm not saying this girl is that person. I don't know her yet. But if someone's caught your attention… it's worth listening to your heart, even if just a little."
"Twenty-eight this year," Chiyo said casually, stirring her tea. "Not young anymore, hmm?"
Ren arched a brow. "Granny.."
"You've never shown interest in dating. Never brought anyone home. Not even a passing infatuation." Her voice was calm, but the undercurrent of curiosity was impossible to miss. "Now I hear about a girl—not from you, but from Daiki."
"She's just a worker," he said evenly.
"Is she?"
Ren didn't answer. Chiyo watched him carefully, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly—not from suspicion, but from familiarity. She knew when he was deflecting.
"I'm not trying to pry," she continued. "But I do wonder. If you don't like this girl, that's fine. But if you do… don't let your silence ruin the chance to feel something real. Your parents were married young, you know."
"I know," he said quietly.
Ren said nothing, but the silence felt heavier now. More personal.
"If not her," Chiyo continued softly, "and if it's too difficult to pursue something natural… I can still help you. There are kind, capable women from our allied families. Girls raised to understand our world. But only if that's something you want. I would never push."
Ren's gaze dropped again, thoughtful. After a moment, he murmured, "I'm not looking for a match… not like that."
Chiyo tilted her head gently, her eyes kind. "Then perhaps you've already found something… or someone… worth considering."
He didn't answer, but his silence spoke volumes.
She didn't push further.
Instead, she reached over, smoothing a nonexistent wrinkle from the sleeve of his shirt like she had done when he was a boy. Her touch was soft, grounding.
"You've grown into a fine man, Ren. Whatever choice you make… I just want you to be happy. Truly happy."
He lifted his eyes, and for the briefest moment, there was a flicker of something unguarded—something softer than the polished calm he wore every day.
"Thank you, Granny."
Chiyo smiled and took another sip of her tea, her expression as serene as ever, but there was something thoughtful glinting in her eyes.
Just as Ren began to rise, she spoke again—softly, but clearly.
"Ren… bring her tomorrow."
He paused, glancing over his shoulder.
"To the house," she clarified, her tone still gentle. "For dinner. I'd like to meet her properly. Nothing formal. Just a quiet meal."
Ren turned back fully, his expression unreadable. "You're serious?"
Chiyo gave a small, elegant shrug. "I'm just an old woman with too much time on her hands. Let me cook for someone new. It's been far too long since this house had a young woman's laughter in it."
Ren's lips parted slightly as if to respond—but then closed again. He studied his grandmother for a long moment, then finally gave a quiet nod.
"I'll ask her."
Chiyo's eyes softened. "That's all I ask."
She didn't press further. There was no need.
Because she saw it now—the faintest hesitation in Ren's voice when he spoke about the girl, the flicker of something rare and fragile in his eyes.
And she knew.
Maybe not everything. But enough.
As Ren left the room, Chiyo remained seated, her fingers wrapped around her cup. She looked out the paper-paneled window into the night garden, her heart steady with hope.
*****
The late afternoon light filtered through the office blinds as Emi flipped through the last stack of documents on her desk. She was nearly done for the day, mind already drifting toward dinner plans—probably convenience store onigiri again, maybe miso soup if she got home early enough.
But the moment she felt it—that subtle change in the air—she knew.
Ren Kazama was here.
Before she could look up, his voice met her ears—calm and quiet, but unmistakably commanding.
"Fujimoto. A moment."
She glanced up, startled. "Yes?"
Ren stood a few steps away, his posture relaxed yet undeniably imposing. He didn't say more, simply gestured with a tilt of his head for her to follow.
Curious—and slightly anxious—Emi stood, brushing invisible lint from her skirt as she trailed him down the corridor and into his office. The door clicked shut behind them, muffling the rest of the office into silence.
She stood by the door uncertainly, but Ren didn't move to sit behind his desk. Instead, he remained by the window, arms folded, gaze focused on her with quiet intensity.
"My grandmother would like to meet you."
The words hit her like cold water.
"…What?"
"For dinner," he added smoothly, "tonight."
Her heart lurched. "Tonight?"
Ren nodded once, expression unreadable. "She heard from Daiki that we've brought in a part-time staff. She's curious. She asked me to bring you to the Kazama estate."
"I—" Emi stared at him, momentarily speechless. "You want me to… go to your home? As in… the Kazama estate?"
"That's what I said."
Her throat went dry. Her fingers tightened unconsciously around the hem of her cardigan.
"Why would she want to meet someone like me?" she asked, the words slipping out before she could stop them.
Ren's gaze didn't waver. "Because you're working under me now. And because she trusts my judgment."
Emi opened her mouth, but her thoughts were already racing. The Kazama estate was more than just a home—it was his world. Elegant, powerful, intimidating. She could already imagine herself out of place in her faded clothes, knees locked under a lacquered table, trying not to spill tea.
Ren must have sensed her spiraling thoughts, because his voice came softer this time. "You don't need to dress up or impress her. She's not expecting anything. Just come."
"But I—" she hesitated, flustered. "I'm not prepared. I've never… I mean, I don't know how to act around people like that."
Ren's lips curved slightly—not quite a smile, but something close. "Just be yourself."
Which was, of course, the exact problem.
Still, when she met his eyes, there was something unspoken in them. A steadiness. A quiet reassurance.
"…Okay," she finally said, exhaling. "I'll go."
Ren gave a single nod. "Alright, start packing now."
As she stepped out of his office, returning to her desk in a daze, Emi could barely process what just happened.
Dinner at the Kazama estate. With his grandmother. Tonight.
She dropped her head to the desk, groaning into her arms. Sora was going to flip. And she? She wasn't even sure what to feel. Her hands were trembling and her heart wouldn't stop racing.