The morning sun painted faint streaks of gold on the walls of Kenshiro's room, but its warmth did little to dispel the lingering chill that had gripped him through the night. He had barely slept. Each attempt to rest was interrupted by the gnawing dread that something was wrong, that something had gone terribly awry.
Kenshiro sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, his fingers intertwined as he stared at the faint glow of his phone. He had sent yet another text to his father, though he already knew it would go unanswered.
The minutes crawled by. Finally, a decision crystallized in his mind. Sitting here and waiting wouldn't help; he needed to act.
He pulled on his coat and headed downstairs, the wooden steps creaking under his weight. Misaki was in the kitchen, her hair tied back in a neat bun as she busied herself preparing breakfast. She turned when she heard him enter, her brow furrowing at the sight of his determined expression.
"Young Master," She said, setting down the knife she was holding. "You're up early. Breakfast will be ready soon."
"I need to step out for a while," Kenshiro said, his tone clipped.
Misaki's hand froze mid-motion. "So early? Where are you going?"
"To Kyoko's house," He replied, grabbing his scarf from the hook near the door. "Her father has connections. He might be able to help us get information."
Misaki hesitated, her eyes searching his face for answers he wasn't offering. "Shouldn't you wait for a little while? It's barely morning, and..."
She trailed off, catching the resolute glint in his eyes.
"I can't wait any longer," Kenshiro said firmly. "I need to know if they're okay."
After a moment, Misaki relented. "Be careful, Kenshiro-sama," she said softly.
"I'll call the hotel again in the meantime."
----
The walk to Kyoko's house was eerily quiet. Kenshiro shoved his hands into his coat pockets, his breath forming small puffs of mist in the crisp morning air. Usually, the neighborhood buzzed with activity at this hour—children playing, neighbors exchanging greetings, and the distant hum of passing cars.
Today, however, the streets were unnaturally still, and the silence pressed against him like a tangible force.
As he walked, his mind raced, conjuring scenarios both mundane and sinister.
Had his parents been delayed by an unforeseen commitment? Or was it something worse?
The possibilities gnawed at him, each one darker than the last.
He reached the Shimizu residence, its small iron gates looming before him.
Kenshiro stepped through the gate.
The gravel pathway crunched beneath his boots as he approached the main house.
Kyoko met him at the door, still in her pajamas, her long black hair loose over her shoulders.
"Kenshiro?" She said, blinking in surprise. "What are you doing here so early?"
"I need to speak with your father," Kenshiro said, his voice steady but urgent. "It's important."
Kyoko's brows furrowed, concern etching lines into her otherwise serene face. She didn't question him further, simply stepped aside and motioned for him to come in.
----
The living room was warm and inviting, the scent of freshly brewed coffee lingering in the air.
Kyoko guided Kenshiro to a chair near the fireplace before disappearing down the hall to fetch her father.
Shimizu Hideki entered a few moments later, dressed sharply despite the early hour. He exuded an air of authority, his movements precise, his gaze sharp as it landed on Kenshiro.
"Kenshiro-kun," Hideki said warmly, setting down the stack of papers he had been holding. "To what do I owe this early visit?"
Kenshiro didn't waste time. "My parents left for the capital yesterday morning," he began, his voice calm despite the turmoil roiling within him.
"I've been trying to reach them since the afternoon, but their phones are out of reach. They haven't checked into their hotel either."
Hideki's expression shifted, his warm demeanor giving way to a more serious tone.
"Out of reach, you say?" He repeated, leaning forward slightly. "That is unusual."
"Yes," Kenshiro said, his hands tightening into fists on his lap. "I was hoping you might know someone in the capital who could help us find out what's going on."
Hideki studied him for a moment, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as he assessed the situation. Then he nodded.
"I do have a few acquaintances who might be able to assist," He said. "Give me a moment to make some calls."
----
While Hideki stepped into his office, Kenshiro sat in the living room with Kyoko. She perched on the edge of the couch across from him, her expression a mixture of concern and curiosity.
"Are you okay?" she asked gently, breaking the silence.
Kenshiro exhaled, running a hand through his hair.
"Honestly? No," He admitted. "I can't shake the feeling that something's wrong."
Kyoko hesitated for a moment before leaning forward, her dark eyes meeting his.
"Whatever's happening, you're not alone," She said softly. "If there's anything I can do to help, just let me know."
He glanced at her, appreciating the sincerity in her words.
"Thanks, Kyoko," He said quietly. "That means a lot."
----
Hideki returned after what felt like an eternity, his expression carefully neutral. He sat down across from Kenshiro, steepling his fingers as he spoke.
"I've reached out to a few contacts in the capital," He said. "One of them is already looking into the matter. We should have more information by tomorrow morning."
Kenshiro nodded, though the tightness in his chest remained.
"Thank you, Uncle," He said earnestly.
Hideki offered him a reassuring smile. "For now, try not to let your imagination run wild," he advised.
"Sometimes these things have simple explanations."
Kenshiro nodded again, but his instincts wouldn't let him rest. Every fiber of his being screamed that this was far from a simple misunderstanding or delay.
----
As the sun began its slow descent, casting long shadows across the Shimizu estate, Kenshiro reluctantly decided to head back home. Hideki had offered to have a driver take him, and though Kenshiro initially declined, the older man insisted.
The ride was silent, the car cutting through the quiet streets like a blade. Kenshiro stared out the window, his mind replaying every moment of the past twenty-four hours.
When he arrived back at the Hirano estate, Misaki was waiting for him in the foyer, her expression grim.
"I called the hotel several times," She said softly, wringing her hands. "No one's picking up."
The weight of her words settled heavily on Kenshiro's shoulders, but he forced himself to remain composed.
"Keep trying," He said, his voice steady despite the turmoil within.
Climbing the stairs to his room, Kenshiro paused at the window, staring out at the darkened street below. The unease that had been brewing all day now felt suffocating, like a storm on the horizon.
He clenched his fists at his sides, his knuckles white.
"Please," He murmured into the silence. "Please be safe."