Chapter 3 — Secrets, Lies, and Lemon Tea

The next morning came with the smell of lemon tea and distant laughter.

Sunshine Orphanage glowed in soft gold light — calm, peaceful, almost pretending nothing could ever go wrong.

But Mekisa’s eyes were heavy from another sleepless night.

She sat at the small dining table, staring at her laptop.

A new message blinked on the screen from Lusteré Designs Co.

“Thank you for your work, Miss M. The client was pleased. Expect a payment transfer within three business days.”

Her lips curved faintly. “Three days… that’s enough to cover the month.”

But before she could close the laptop, a new email popped up — strange, unsigned.

Subject: You shouldn’t be doing this work alone, Princess.

Her heart froze.

No sender name. No signature. Just that one word.

Princess.

She slammed the laptop shut, pulse racing.

“…No. It can’t be him. That name... no one uses that anymore.”

Midday — Orphanage Garden

Yukiro was repairing the fence, sleeves rolled, sunlight catching the sweat on his neck.

The children buzzed around him like worker bees.

“Yukiro-nii! The hammer’s too heavy!”

“Then you’re too small,” he teased, handing the boy a smaller one.

“Use this. Future builders start tiny.”

Mekisa walked over, trying to look casual, though her mind was still spinning from the mysterious email.

“You look serious,” Yukiro said, noticing.

“Did the pancake spirits haunt you in your sleep again?”

 “You’re not funny.”

"Ouch. That bad, huh?”

She hesitated. “Yukiro… do you ever feel like the past tries to find you again?”

He looked at her quietly — longer than usual.

 “All the time,” he said softly.

“The past never really lets go, does it?”

Something flickered in his eyes — something heavy and hidden.

Before she could ask, one of the kids shouted, “Yukiro-nii, we need more nails!”

He smiled again, that easy grin that erased every shadow.

 “Duty calls,” he said lightly, walking away.

Mekisa watched him go, uneasy. His words echoed in her head.

The past never lets go.

 Evening — Quiet Before the Storm

The kids were asleep. Rain whispered against the windows again.

Mekisa sat at her desk, sketching a new jewelry design — but her thoughts kept slipping.

Her phone buzzed.

A message. Unknown number.

Unknown:

"Nice pendant you’re wearing, Miss Mekisa. It still shines after ten years.”

Her breath hitched. She looked around the room — nothing but shadows.

She texted back with trembling fingers.

Mekisa:

"Who is this?”

No reply.

Only a new photo appeared seconds later.

Her father’s car. Burned. Twisted. The same one from her nightmares.

Her hands went cold.

The Next Day — Marketplace

Mekisa tried to shake off the unease as she went to sell handmade earrings to a local shop.

Every smile felt heavier than usual, every shadow longer.

When she returned to the orphanage, she stopped dead at the gate.

A sleek black car was parked outside.

Yukiro was standing beside it, speaking to a man in a suit.

She hid behind a post, watching.

The man handed Yukiro an envelope — thick, formal.

 “Lady Shizuka appreciates your updates,” the man said before leaving.

Mekisa’s heart pounded in her ears.

Lady Shizuka? That name again?

She didn’t move until Yukiro went back inside, whistling like nothing happened.

Inside, she found him making tea as if the world hadn’t just cracked open.

"You’re home early,” he said cheerfully. “Lemon or mint?”

“Lemon,” she said slowly, watching him. “You… got mail?”

“Hmm? Oh, that? Just work stuff.”

He smiled — but it didn’t reach his eyes.

She stared at him. The man she trusted, laughed with, fought with — suddenly felt like a stranger.

"Yukiro,” she said quietly. “How  you are connected to Lady Shizuka?”

The mug slipped from his hand, shattering on the floor.

Hot tea splashed across the tiles.

For a long moment, he said nothing.

Then, very softly—

“Where did you hear that name?”

 “Answer me,” she whispered.

His jaw tightened.

“You wouldn’t understand, Mekisa. Not yet.”

 “Then make me understand!”

He looked up — and for the first time since she’d known him, his smile was gone.

His eyes were sharp, filled with something between regret and fear.

 “Because if I tell you,” he said, voice trembling,

“You’ll hate me.”

NEON CITY— Shizuka’s Penthouse

Rain streaked the glass walls. The city pulsed with distant light.

Shizuka stood by her window, phone pressed to her ear.

Her crimson lips curved as she listened to the lawyer’s voice.

“Yes, Madam, the contract is ready. Should we send it tonight?”

"Perfect,” she said. “Deliver it in person.”

She poured herself a glass of wine, her reflection smiling back like a ghost.

“It’s time to give my honey a surprise.”

She ended the call and turned slightly.

Behind her, her personal assistant stepped forward, bowing low.

 “Madam, shall I prepare for the trip to Hill Station?”

Shizuka’s eyes gleamed with quiet satisfaction.

"Yes. I’ll deliver the contract myself,” she said softly.

“It’s time I finally meet Mekisa… face to face.”

Her tone was gentle — almost loving.

But her smile carried the chill of a storm waiting to break.

End of Chapter 3