Chapter 16: Lines Beneath the Surface

Morning arrived quietly.

Too quietly.

Wakasa sat in his office chair, a pen spinning slowly between his fingers. The work in front of him was already done—clean, precise, complete.

But his mind wasn’t.

The silence felt… restless.

He exhaled, stood up, and stepped out of his office.

And then—

Fred.

Standing not too far, already watching him.

There was something in his gaze.

Not friendly.

Not hostile.

Just… knowing.

Fred tilted his head slightly, then gestured toward the exit.

“Come.”

No explanation.

Wakasa followed.

They stepped outside the building, walking toward a nearby luxurious park. The air was calm, people scattered, conversations distant.

For a while, neither spoke.

Then—

Fred broke the silence.

“How’s work?”

A pause.

“Recovered from that humiliation?”

Wakasa glanced at him.

“Management sent an update. They’re going ahead with the route I proposed.”

He added calmly,

“After his brother rejected it.”

Fred gave a faint scoff.

“I wasn’t asking about results.”

“I asked about humiliation.”

Wakasa slowed slightly.

“…I didn’t see a reason to argue.”

His tone stayed even.

“I wasn’t in a position to challenge it.”

“So I accepted it.”

Fred studied him.

Then said quietly—

“You’re just like your father.”

That made Wakasa stop.

He turned his head.

“…About that.”

A brief hesitation.

“When I first arrived… you called me Unikawa’s son.”

A beat.

“How do you know him?”

Fred didn’t answer immediately.

They reached the park.

He stopped walking.

Then said, almost absently—

“He was a friend of mine.”

Wakasa blinked, slightly surprised.

“…I see.”

Fred nodded once.

“Was.”

Wakasa caught that.

Still, he said lightly—

“Then you should visit him sometime.”

Fred’s eyes shifted toward him.

“…And why would I do that?”

Wakasa shrugged.

“You said he was your friend.”

Fred looked away.

Took out a cigarette.

Lit it.

A slow inhale.

Then—

“I said he was.”

“I didn’t say he is.”

Silence settled between them.

Wakasa didn’t push further.

Fred exhaled smoke into the air.

“…How’s everything else?”

“Fine.”

Wakasa paused, then added—

“How long have you been working here?”

“You seem… experienced.”

Fred let out a quiet scoff.

“A polite way of calling me old?”

“…Twenty years, give or take.”

“I’ve been around since I was a kid.”

Wakasa nodded.

“…That’s a long time.”

Fred continued, almost casually—

“Karliel and I worked together back then.”

Wakasa glanced at him.

“Are you related to him?”

Fred looked at him, faintly amused.

“No.”

“Why would you think that?”

Wakasa shrugged slightly.

“He hired his daughter.”

“So I assumed… maybe it’s a family-driven system.”

Fred paused.

Then chuckled under his breath.

A quiet, private kind of amusement.

He didn’t explain.

Because explaining would mean saying too much.

Instead, he shifted the topic.

“…You ask a lot of questions.”

Wakasa replied simply—

“I prefer understanding where I stand.”

Fred studied him again.

Then nodded faintly.

After a moment, Wakasa spoke again.

“…Who is Silvano Giovanni?”

Fred’s expression changed—just slightly.

“Ambitious question.”

He took another drag.

“Silvano Giovanni…”

“…is the man sitting at the top.”

A pause.

“The owner.”

“His father built an empire—forty-nine branches, across cities, across borders.”

“Not just this place.”

“Not just this country.”

“Everywhere.”

He almost said more—

then stopped himself.

A small cough.

Wakasa didn’t miss it.

But he didn’t question it.

Instead, he nodded.

“…He looks young.”

“But he carries himself well.”

Fred smirked faintly.

“With people like you around…”

“…he might build something even bigger.”

Wakasa’s lips twitched slightly.

A compliment—

from someone like Fred.

Unexpected.

Above them—

behind glass—

Silvano Giovanni stood in his office.

Watching.

His fingers pulled the curtain aside just enough.

Wakasa.

Fred.

Talking.

Too comfortably.

His jaw tightened.

“…So he’s approaching him now.”

A pause.

“No.”

He exhaled slowly.

“I don’t have proof.”

“…Not yet.”

His gaze sharpened.

“But I won’t ignore it either.”

He stepped back.

“…I just hope Wakasa is as perceptive as his father.”

His phone buzzed.

Two notifications.

He opened them.

And froze.

UPDATE: Two branches have been seized.

Kabane control confirmed.

Silvano’s eyes widened slightly.

“…When?”

His grip tightened around the phone.

“…How did this happen so fast?”

A flicker of anger rose.

Not loud.

But heavy.

“…Kabane.”

He clenched his jaw.

“This isn’t strategy.”

“This is provocation.”

The door opened.

Elira stepped in, composed as ever, documents in hand.

“Kabane has taken over the branches.”

“I’m aware,” Silvano snapped.

Then corrected himself, lowering his tone—

“…I’ve seen the report.”

He turned away, pacing slowly.

“This is because of Kiritatsu.”

“He’s forcing escalation.”

“I’m trying to contain it—and he’s tearing it open.”

His voice tightened.

“I can’t just sit and watch everything collapse.”

Elira remained calm.

“Then don’t.”

A pause.

“Anger won’t solve this.”

Silvano ran a hand through his hair.

“What if they demand something we can’t give?”

“Something that costs us more than money?”

“Our reputation is already fragile.”

“This could break it completely.”

Elira’s voice stayed steady.

“Then think clearly before it does.”

Silvano stopped.

Took a breath.

Slower this time.

“…I can’t involve my father yet.”

“I’m the one in charge.”

“…Which means I fix it.”

A pause.

“…Unikawa.”

His eyes narrowed slightly.

“He knows more than he’s saying.”

Elira tilted her head slightly.

“So you’re still in contact with him.”

“Of course.”

Silvano replied immediately.

“He’s the only one Kabane is targeting this precisely.”

“…This entire situation was engineered.”

“To isolate him.”

“To remove him.”

His voice dropped—

“And when I find who’s behind it…”

“…I’ll make sure they regret it.”

A brief silence.

Then he muttered—

“…Preferably without getting my hands dirty.”

Elira rolled her eyes slightly.

“Focus.”

“Emotion clouds judgment.”

Silvano exhaled.

“…Fine.”

He turned toward her.

“For now—keep an eye on Fred.”

“I need time.”

No hesitation.

Elira nodded once.

“Understood.”

Silvano walked past her, tension still clinging to him.

Because the situation wasn’t just slipping—

…it was tightening.

Quietly.

 What Was Left Behind

The house was quiet.

Too still for the middle of the day.

Unikawa sat near the wardrobe, keys in hand. He unlocked the drawer and slid it open, his movements careful… almost habitual.

He reached inside.

Paused.

His fingers stilled.

“…Where is it?”

He shifted things around. Papers. Old receipts. A few envelopes.

Nothing.

He checked again.

Slower this time.

Nothing.

A faint crease formed between his brows.

Behind him, his wife moved around the room, dusting shelves, humming softly under her breath.

Unikawa glanced back.

“…Did you clean this drawer?”

She didn’t even turn.

“No. I clean on Saturday, remember? Not Wednesday, my dude.”

He exhaled lightly, scratching the back of his head.

“…Something’s missing.”

That made her pause.

She turned now, eyebrow raised.

“What kind of something?”

“I don’t know… I just—”

He stopped.

“…Did you take anything from here?”

She stared at him for a second.

Then scoffed lightly.

“Oh please. The milkman came earlier, I took some money from your wallet. That’s it.”

Unikawa nodded slowly.

But that wasn’t it.

The money wasn’t what he was looking for.

She crossed her arms, giving him a teasing look.

“…Are you seriously suspecting me right now, old man?”

He looked at her.

Then smiled faintly.

“Why would I?”

A small pause.

“You already stole my most precious thing twenty years ago.”

She froze.

Just for a second.

Then rolled her eyes quickly, turning away.

“Unbelievable.”

But her lips betrayed her.

She left the room.

And the quiet returned.

Unikawa sat down on the edge of the bed, frustration settling in.

“…Where did it go?”

His eyes drifted—

Then stopped.

On the table.

Right there.

He stared at it for a moment.

Then let out a soft breath.

“…Ah.”

There it was.

An old diary.

Worn edges. Faded cover. Time pressed into every page.

He picked it up carefully.

Like it mattered.

Because it did.

He opened it.

Slowly.

Page by page.

Old ink.

Old handwriting.

His father’s.

Not records.

Not reports.

Observations.

Names.

Routes.

Irregularities.

Things that never made sense.

Things that were never proven.

But never forgotten.

Unikawa’s eyes moved across the page—

Then stopped.

The route.

The same one.

Exactly the same path that had been used twenty years ago.

His grip tightened slightly.

“…So it really is connected.”

He reached for his phone, quickly taking a picture.

Sent.

To Silvano.

No message.

Just the image.

That was enough.

Then—

He turned another page.

Names.

Rows of them.

Some crossed.

Some marked.

Some untouched.

His eyes scanned carefully—

Until—

He froze.

“…Berat.”

His voice dropped.

He leaned closer.

Fred Berat.

Right there.

Clear.

But not alone.

Below it—

Another name.

Same surname.

Hanna Berat.

But that name—

was crossed out.

Roughly.

With old pencil.

And beside it—

a single word.

Dead.

Unikawa didn’t move.

Didn’t blink.

Something about that—

didn’t sit right.

Not the name.

Not the mark.

Not the way it was written.

He stared at it longer than he should have.

As if the page might answer him.

But it didn’t.

The room remained silent.

But something had shifted.

Quietly.

Deeply.

End of Chapter 16.