From that day forward—
Haruki began changing.
He started moving gently, carefully… toward Kyouko.
She was shy.
Soft-spoken.
Graceful in a way that seemed untouched by the filth in that house.
And slowly…
He began to talk to her.
One sentence here.
A glance there.
He started watching how she moved, how she avoided eye contact when flustered.
And she started responding—quietly, but consistently.
A warmth began to grow.
That's where it started.
He noticed it over time.
How Satomi used her mother—that woman—to keep him controlled.
She was beautiful.
No—the most beautiful girl Haruki had ever seen.
Too perfect to be hidden inside a cold, loveless house.
But Satomi saw it.
And Satomi used it.
She knew Haruki was the kind of man who respected boundaries.
Respected her mother.
So she used that.
"Let my mom take care of you while I'm out."
"She's always at home anyway."
"She'll make your meals. She doesn't mind."
It sounded casual.
Harmless.
