Another eting ended successfully, and after the contract was signed, Haruno politely shook hands with the other party.
"I hope everything goes smoothly in our collaboration."
The man across from her, who looked to be in his mid-thirties, let out a hearty laugh. "I've heard plenty about Miss Yukinoshita in the industry, and now that we've t, it's clear the reputation is well deserved. It's been a real pleasure working with you."
He chuckled and added, "To be this outstanding at your age—honestly, it makes feel a little old."
No kidding.
Haruno had started collecting information on this company's executives—likes, dislikes, habits, and even those of the higher-ups at the parent group—over half a month ago. Only after she'd prepared every possible angle with ticulous detail did she strike today, clean and decisive.
With a gentle smile, she replied modestly, "You're too kind. I'm only standing here today because of the foundation my family laid for . When it cos to ability, I'm still miles behind you."
Not true.
I'm the most capable person in the room. Idiots like you better have the self-awareness to realize that.
But the man looked genuinely pleased to be praised by such a stunningly beautiful woman. "Oh, aren't you still in school, Miss Yukinoshita? You're young, with plenty of room to grow."
He was the head of a subsidiary under one of the Shionomiya Group's many branches, and he truly believed the Yukinoshita heiress was exceptional—flawless in appearance, impeccable in skill, and near-perfect in emotional intelligence and social grace.
When they had first t, he'd assud she was just another spoiled pretty face coasting on her family na. But within thirty minutes, Haruno had used her professionalism and charm to completely disarm his skepticism.
After signing the contract and wrapping up the eting, the two companies—as per tradition—agreed to have dinner together that evening.
In Japan, with its rigid social hierarchy, these corporate dinners were a thoroughly tedious affair—especially inter-company ones.
At least, since this was a formal gathering between firms, the usual hazing rituals for newcors would probably be skipped. But vulgar jokes and tireso small talk were inevitable.
With ti still to spare before the evening banquet, and rembering there were still loose ends to tie up at the office, Haruno decided to head back first.
In the back seat of the car, she let out a quiet breath and resisted the urge to stretch, instead pulling out her phone.
As the Yukinoshita heir, she never allowed herself to relax her posture in front of others. That kind of discipline had long since beco second nature.
She scrolled from Line to her email inbox. Annoyingly, Yukino hadn't sent her even a single ssage today.
Their mother had, though—two short emails, surprisingly, despite her busy schedule.
[The rivalry between the Shionomiya and Shijō families is escalating. The Yukinoshita family would do well to avoid getting involved.]
Haruno tugged at the corner of her mouth in a dry smirk.
Easy for her to say.
The Shionomiya Zaibatsu—so powerful that even a whisper from them made the entire nation tremble. And the Shijō family, forced into exile abroad years ago after breaking from the Shionomiya clan, had since built up their power base in Europe and Arica. Now, they were ready to return and wage a full-scale counteroffensive.
Their battle now spanned all of Japan, not only in finance but also in politics, industry, and even academia.
For the Yukinoshita family to remain uninvolved? That was a fantasy.
The second email:
[Yukino is almost of age. As her elder sister, you should start arranging more social events for her with other young people.]
Sitting in the passenger seat, Haruno's secretary happened to glance up at the rearview mirror—and imdiately froze.
The Yukinoshita heiress, always the picture of warmth and elegance, had suddenly transford. Her expression was terrifyingly cold.
When the secretary had first joined the company, she'd admired this legendary figure of grace and beauty.
That was until one day, she watched Haruno smile sweetly while utterly crushing a business rival.
That competitor's company went bankrupt. His family, ruined. Rumor had it, he nearly jumped off a building afterward.
The secretary quickly averted her gaze, not daring to look any longer.
In the back seat, Haruno's fingers clenched around her phone until her knuckles turned white.
She stared at the screen for a long ti.
The car was silent. No one said a word.
Of course she understood what their mother ant.
It was ti for the Yukinoshita family to start looking for a fiancé for Yukino.
To mold her into the perfect future lady of a noble house—that had always been their mother's vision for her second daughter.
Haruno bit down on her lip just to keep the fury inside from exploding.
Was it her mother's cold indifference toward Yukino that enraged her? Or the thought of soone else being betrothed to Yukino?
Haruno shut her eyes.
The world before her seed to go dark.
…
In the back seat of another car, a blonde girl in a maid outfit with a side ponytail quietly watched Haruno's vehicle disappear into the distance.
"We're heading back," she said.
"Yes, ma'am," replied the driver, and the black sedan began to move.
The girl opened the notebook on her lap and scribbled down several nas. She drew lines between them, annotating the relationships on either side.
Nas like Yukinoshita Yukino, Yukinoshita Haruno, Yui Yuigahama, and Yumiko Miura stood out on the page.
At the center of it all: Yukinoshita Yukino. The lines radiating from her twisted in complex, jagged directions, tearing the web of connections around her into sothing tangled and fragnted.
The girl let out a soft scoff and closed her notebook.
Soon, the car stopped before a grand, stately manor.
She gently smoothed the hem of her dress and stepped out.
"Where's the young lady?" she asked one of the household maids.
"She's in the archery field out back."
The blonde girl nodded and headed toward the rear of the estate.
As she approached the private archery range, the sharp sound of an arrow slicing through the air reached her ears.
She stood respectfully to one side, waiting for a pause as the lady of the house changed arrows. Only then did she speak, reporting her findings.
"Since approximately three weeks ago, perceptions toward the younger Yukinoshita sister among those around her have steadily shifted. As you predicted, the most notable change ca from Yukinoshita Haruno."
Silence.
In the distance, frad by the backlight, stood a slender, graceful figure in an archery uniform. She raised her bow.
The muscle in her forearm tensed into a beautiful arc.
Thwack!
Even from far away, the sound of an arrow striking dead center was unmistakable.
And even without looking, the blonde maid knew exactly whose photograph had just been pinned to the bullseye, pierced straight through the heart.
-Yukinoshita Yukino.
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