Chapter 37: Fissures in The Facade
The morning air was dense with tension as Takumi sat stiffly in the back of a sleek black car, parked at the edge of the city. His phone buzzed on the seat beside him—unread messages piling up like debris. He stared out the window, jaw tight, rage simmering beneath his skin.
Across from him, a high-ranking police officer, gray at the temples and immaculate in uniform, cleared his throat before speaking. "We did as you asked. We combed through government databases, immigration logs, local surveillance hubs."
Takumi didn't look at him. "And?"
The officer hesitated. "Nothing."
Takumi turned slowly, eyes sharp. "What do you mean nothing?"
"I mean there's no trace of them. No official names. No backgrounds. It's like they don't exist."
"That's not possible," Takumi snapped. "You're telling me four people infiltrated my life, sabotaged my marriage, erased my security footage—and you found nothing?"
The officer shifted uncomfortably. "Sir, we even had a tech team try to reverse-engineer the deleted files. All we got was static. The systems were overridden—intelligently. Not even my most trusted men could track it. Whoever these people are... they're not ordinary."
Takumi's jaw clenched. He punched the car door with the side of his fist. "Keep digging."
The officer straightened. "We are. But we did find something. A lead—not about them, but about your wife."
Takumi's head snapped up. "Where?"
"A tip from a nearby surveillance node—low quality but it might be her. The timestamp lines up with the window of disappearance. It's near an abandoned district outside the city. A place locals don't visit anymore. We're verifying."
Takumi's lips curled into a bitter smile. "So she's hiding. And someone's helping her."
The officer said nothing.
Takumi leaned back in his seat, fingers trembling slightly as he ran a hand through his hair. His chest rose and fell unevenly, tension swelling behind his ribs like a flood ready to burst.
He snatched his phone, checking the screen.
6 hours, 58 minutes.
The numbers glared back at him.
He grit his teeth. "You're telling me no trace of her, but suddenly there's a flicker on some back-alley camera? Someone wiped the footage. Someone helped her. They've been playing me."
The officer didn't respond.
Takumi slammed the back of his fist against the door. The sound echoed through the vehicle.
He muttered to himself, voice seething. "She was nothing without me. I gave her a life people would kill for. And now she thinks she can vanish and live in peace?"
He looked up again, his eyes wild with rage. "No. She doesn't get to run. She doesn't get to erase me."
His fingers tightened around the phone until the screen nearly cracked.
"I'll find her myself," he hissed. "And I'll make sure she remembers exactly who she walked away from."
Elsewhere, in the safehouse, a fragile calm held. The soft hum of a kettle on the stove, the rustle of pages from Damian's magazine, and the subtle click of Kenzo's keyboard filled the air.
Audrey sat by the window, watching the sun creep across the floor. Rina stood beside her, a pen in one hand and a small notebook in the other, its cover worn and edges curled. She was trying to sip tea despite the tremor in her hands.
Audrey tilted her head. "What's that?"
Rina hesitated, then offered a shy smile. "My bucket list."
Audrey blinked. "Bucket list?"
"I started it when I was in high school," Rina said softly. "Back then, it felt like a dream list. Things I wanted to do once I had the money or the freedom. But when I finally had a job and some savings... I got trapped. And it just stayed a list."
Audrey reached over, her voice low. "Can I ask what's on it?"
Rina opened a page and traced one item with her finger. "Swim in the ocean at night. See cherry blossoms in Kyoto. Learn how to bake something without ruining it." She gave a nervous laugh. "Simple things. But they mattered to me."
"You're going to do all of it," Audrey said firmly. "Every last one."
Rina's eyes shimmered. "Do you really think so?"
"I know so." Audrey squeezed her hand. "You're free now. And you're not alone."
Rina wiped at her eye. "Thank you... I don't even know how to say it. I feel like I can finally breathe."
Audrey smiled gently, but before she could respond, Damian's voice called from behind, lighthearted and gruff. "Hey, Rina—ever tried knocking someone flat with their own suitcase? Might add that to your list. Self-defense 101, Fitzgerald style."
Rina blinked, startled into a small laugh. Audrey looked over her shoulder, eyebrows raised. "Really, Damian?"
"What? A little empowerment never hurt anyone," he said, walking in with a lopsided grin. "Thought maybe I could teach her a few simple moves. In case life tries to throw hands again."
Rina's lips parted, then slowly curled into a genuine smile. "You'd teach me?"
"Of course," Damian replied, tone softening. "And I promise not to take offense if you use one of them on me."
Audrey chuckled quietly. "Just not on Kenzo. He's got glass bones."
"Hey," Kenzo said from the other room, voice dry. "I'm still here."
Damian threw Rina a wink. "What do you say? We can start slow. First lesson—how to stand your ground."
Rina nodded, a little more sure of herself. "I'd like that."
Damian rubbed the back of his neck, stepping in with a grin. "Alright, but full warning—this may include me yelling 'block!' a lot and you probably laughing at me falling."
Rina giggled, the sound surprising even her. "Deal."
They cleared a small space in the common area. Audrey moved to sit on the couch nearby, smiling as Damian showed Rina how to keep her balance.
"First rule," Damian said, demonstrating a stance. "Feet shoulder-width apart. Plant yourself like you're not moving for anyone. Not today. Not ever."
Rina copied him, unsteady but trying.
"Now give me a shove," he added, flashing a crooked smile. "Promise I won't cry. Much."
She hesitated, then pushed. He exaggerated a stumble, clutching his chest dramatically. "Okay wow, she's strong. Audrey, remind me not to get on her bad side."
Kenzo, still at his laptop, muttered, "You're the one who told her to hit you."
"Details," Damian said, grinning.
Even Hana cracked a tiny smile from where she leaned against the kitchen counter.
Rina looked around, suddenly flushed with warmth she hadn't felt in years. Safe. Included.
She sat back down beside Audrey, breathless from laughing. "I never thought I'd be laughing this soon."
Audrey's smile widened. "That's what healing feels like sometimes. Sudden. Awkward. Loud. Beautiful."
Rina nodded again, tears springing back to her eyes.
"You don't have to say anything," Audrey whispered once more, her voice steady with kindness. "Just keep dreaming. We'll help you get there."
Across the room, Hana paused mid-step, glancing toward them. She exchanged a look with Kenzo, who gave a silent nod. The team knew the clock was ticking—but so far, all signs suggested they were still ahead.
Back in the car, Takumi opened his contact list again. He stared at his father's name, then his lawyer's, and finally the officer's.
He wasn't going to wait for them to fix this. Not anymore.
He was going to the district himself.
He didn't care if it was dangerous.
He didn't care if it broke the rules.
He needed to see her. To make her understand.
To make her regret it.
His phone buzzed once more. A reminder of the deadline.
6 hours, 12 minutes.
Takumi's smile was cold, but there was something manic behind it now—something unraveling. "Time's almost up."
His phone buzzed again—this time a call. It was the officer.
"We confirmed it," the voice said, clipped and low. "There was a CCTV hit an minute ago. Your wife—Rina—was spotted outside a small hotel in the outer district. We also traced a credit card transaction at the front desk. She might be staying there."
Takumi's body went rigid. Then his mouth curled into a grin—sharp and triumphant. "She's there. She's actually there. Keep digging. Find out her room number."
"We're working on it, sir. But tread carefully."
He hung up without answering and leaned forward in his seat.
"Driver," he barked. "New address. This one." He read the hotel name and address off his screen. "Step on it."
As the car jerked forward, weaving into traffic, Takumi's knee bounced rapidly. He couldn't stop grinning. A twisted thrill ran down his spine.
"She thought she could run," he muttered. "Thought she could hide."
His fingers drummed along the armrest. "You think you won, Rina? Just wait."
Behind him, still near the police station, the officer who had made the call stood in silence. Something in his gut twisted. The pieces of this case no longer fit. Something was off. Deeply off.
But Takumi didn't care.
He was getting closer. His thoughts weren't about redemption or coming clean. They were about revenge. About control. About putting Rina back where he thought she belonged—under his power.
In his mind, she hadn't escaped. She'd betrayed him. And no one betrayed Takumi and got away with it.
He gripped the edge of the seat tighter, face twisted with resentment.
"I made her. I gave her everything," he muttered to himself, voice quaking with fury. His eyes burned not just with obsession—but the wounded pride of a man who had never been told no. "And she's going to pay for throwing it away. For making me look like a fool. For walking away like I'm the villain. They'll all see soon—just how dangerous it is to humiliate someone like me."
But as he reached the hotel and stormed up the stairs, the scene awaiting him wasn't what he expected.
Room 407.
He banged on the door, breath ragged, voice trembling with rage. "Rina! Open the damn door!"
Silence stretched like a wire about to snap.
Then the door creaked open.
Not Rina.
Audrey stood there in the doorway, posture steady, eyes unreadable. A calm mask over storm-wrought intensity. Her figure backlit by the soft glow of the room.
Inside, Damian straightened from where he leaned against the wall, arms folded, gaze sharp. Hana shifted her weight beside the window, fingers twitching near her pocket. Kenzo, closest to the desk, gently closed a laptop, as if finalizing the last line of a trap.
Takumi blinked, completely thrown.
"What the—" he stammered.
Audrey's voice was even, yet carried an unmistakable weight. "Hello, Takumi."
His eyes darted from face to face, pulse quickening.
Damian stepped forward slightly. "You picked a hell of a door to knock on."
Kenzo tilted his head, voice dry. "We figured you'd find your way here. Eventually."
Takumi took a step back instinctively, sweat blooming at his collar.
This wasn't a coincidence.
This was a reckoning.
His breath caught.
"You've come far," Kenzo added.
"You're not Rina," Takumi growled, eyes darting around. "Where is she? What the hell is this?"
"Let's talk," Audrey said softly. "You wanted answers. We thought we'd give you some."
And as Takumi's eyes adjusted to the room—lit low but crackling with tension—he realized, far too late, that this was never about finding Rina.
Several hours earlier, the safehouse was quiet—but not idle. Around the kitchen table, the team had already begun preparing the trap.
They had already predicted every step.
Kenzo sat with his laptop open, lines of code streaming down the screen. He adjusted the digital records, creating a carefully crafted trail—Rina's forged credit card transaction, blurry hotel lobby footage, and a CCTV hit that appeared to capture her walking into a small building. The trick, as always, was subtlety.
"Make it just believable enough to draw him in," Audrey had said, standing behind him with crossed arms.
"He'll take the bait," Kenzo replied. "He wants to win too badly. He won't see it coming."
Meanwhile, Hana had infiltrated the building listed in the false trail, renting the decoy hotel room herself. She placed a few of Rina's things there—clothing that matched the surveillance image, even a perfume bottle—and worked her power to blur the mental trail of any hotel staff who might remember a check-in.
Damian installed a discreet alarm sensor near the door and secured the perimeter. "So what happens when he bangs on the door expecting Rina?" he'd asked with a smirk.
Audrey's eyes hadn't wavered. "Then we greet him. And make him listen."
"It's time he learns fear," Audrey said quietly. "The kind he fed to Rina every day."
They didn't expect Takumi to go to the police. They knew him too well by now. Arrogant. Predictable. Dangerous.
This wasn't about getting him to confess.
It was about making sure he knew—this time, he was the one being hunted.