Kyouko stood at the front door, her posture graceful as ever, hands gently folded in front of her.
Outside, the cab door closed with a soft thunk.
Satoshi and Satomi were already inside.
Neither of them looked back.
Not even once.
Kyouko didn't wave.
Didn't call out.
She simply watched the cab pull away.
I wouldn't have seen you off, Satoshi…
If it weren't for my parents being here.
She remained silent.
Her expression composed.
But inside, there was no sadness.
No longing.
Only a quiet sense of finality.
Over twenty years of being a faithful wife… and you didn't even glance at me before leaving.
That cab didn't just carry her husband and daughter back to Tokyo.
It carried away the last thread of her loyalty to a marriage that no longer existed in anything but name.
Kyouko watched the cab disappear down the street, her expression serene—outwardly the image of a dutiful wife seeing off family.
But inside?
Inside, her heartbeat whispered faster.
