After classes, she walks to the hospital where her father is staying. She reminds of her Childhood..
Her mother passed away when she was just three years old. She was raised by her grandmother, but when she turned twelve, her grandmother left her too.
Around the same time, her father's business began to fall apart. Unable to take care for her properly, he placed her in a hostel, hoping it would be a safer place.
They were never very close—not even during her childhood—but he always loved her deeply in his own quiet way. He would send money, making sure she had what she needed, but rarely visited. Not even on her birthdays.
She used to cry every year on her birthday, waiting for him to show up.
But now, the tears have dried.
She hated her father.
There was a time—just once—when he came to see her. But she refused to meet him. She couldn't. The years of silence, the birthdays spent alone, the absence—it had all built up into something cold and sharp inside her.
And now, this would be the first time she'd see him since then.
Her thoughts were scattered. Nothing made sense. A week ago, out of nowhere, she was informed she'd be transferred to a university in the city where her father lived. She declined immediately—she didn't want to be near him.
But then his assistant called again.
This time, the words hit differently.
"His condition has gotten worse. He's in the hospital now."
And just like that, her resolve broke.
She didn't know why she agreed to go. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe curiosity. Maybe something she couldn't name. All she knew was that her chest felt too tight, and her mind wouldn't stay still.
Now, after classes, she found herself walking towards the hospital—towards the man who had been a ghost in her life, yet never truly left her heart.
She walked quietly, her steps slow and unsure, the hospital just a few blocks ahead. Her eyes were fixed on the ground, lost in thought—her father's face in her memory was a blur, but the ache he left behind was sharp and clear.
She didn't notice Yuri walking behind her.
Yuri's POV:
Where is she going?
Why does she look so… heavy today?
What's in her mind?
He had seen her leave the university gates with that faraway look in her eyes—the kind she wore when she was somewhere else entirely. He didn't mean to follow, not at first. But something about the way she walked—like she was carrying the weight of the world—pulled him in.
He kept his distance, careful not to be seen.
Just as Yuri was about to cross the street behind her, his phone buzzed.
Caller ID: Annoying Head
He sighed and answered, keeping his voice low.
Yuri: "Hello?"
Father: "Yuri, where are you?"
Yuri: "I'm with the boys," he lied without thinking, eyes still on her back as she walked ahead.
There was a short pause, then his father's voice turned sharp.
Father: "Don't be naughty. If you see Y/N, bring her back to our home. I can't reach her."
Yuri: "Why would I bring her? It's my free time. Class is over. Can't I hang out with the boys for once?" he argued, frustration leaking into his voice.
The other end of the line went quiet. Just for a second.
Then the shout came.
Father: "YURII!"
Yuri flinched.
Father: "Don't ever question me. I gave you a duty to protect her. That's all. Bring her back. Now."
The line cut off.
Yuri stood still, staring at his phone. The screen had gone dark, but the weight of his father's words lingered like smoke in his chest.
He looked up again.
She was already at the hospital gate.
"Why… why do I have to protect someone who doesn't even know I am?"
Still, his feet started moving.
He followed.
Yuri glanced around, making sure she didn't notice him, and quickly pulled out his phone.
He typed a message to his father:
"She's in front of City Hospital now."
He hit send and slipped the phone back into his pocket.
Mr. Hanamitchi's POV:
Ding.
The phone buzzed in his hand. He opened the message.
"She's at City Hospital."
He stared at the words for a second, then scoffed under his breath then quickly dialed a number. The line clicked.
"Hello " he said coldly. "Y/N is right outside the hospital. Yuri followed her."
He paused, then added, "Do not let her see Fernandez today. Go down and tell her to come back tomorrow. I want her to meet me first."
The man on the other end gave a quiet "Yes, sir," and hung up.
Outside the Hospital — Y/N's POV:
She stood frozen near the entrance, her eyes scanning the walls of the building like they held answers. Her hands clenched the straps of her bag. Her heart was racing. She didn't know what she was expecting—but it wasn't this sick feeling curling in her stomach.
Before she could step forward, a voice called gently from behind.
"Hello, Y/N."
She turned.
A man in a neat black suit stood a few feet away.
"I'm your father's assistant," he said with a calm smile. "Mr. Hanamitchi—your dad's old friend—would like to see you first before you meet your father." He gestured politely.
"Please come back tomorrow. Young Master Hanamitchi is here to pick you up."
She blinked, confused, her gaze slowly shifting past the man—
And there he was.
Yuri.
Standing behind her
His red hair caught the late sun like fire, eyes unreadable, arms crossed, waiting.
She didn't move. Her throat tightened.
Why is he here…?
Y/N stared at Yuri, the assistant's words still sinking in.
Her eyebrows furrowed.
"Young master? Hanamitchi?"
She took a step closer, squinting as if the sunlight was messing with her vision.
"YURI Hanamitchi??" she asked, her voice filled with disbelief.
Yuri casually leaned against the car, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Yeah, that's me, bakka," he said,
She blinked hard, then mumbled under her breath,
"Am I dreaming?"
Yuri rolled his eyes.
"If you're done dreaming, come with me. My dad's waiting for you."
"I just came to pick you up, troublesome kid."
Y/N didn't move right away. She just stood there—half in shock, half still caught in whatever storm was spinning inside her chest.
Yuri Hanamitchi… all this time?
Yuri glanced at her, then at his watch.
"Wait here. My car'll be here in a minute," he said coolly.
Y/N didn't reply—she just nodded slowly, still processing everything.
Moments later, the smooth hum of an engine approached.
A sleek blue BMW sports car pulled up right in front of the hospital entrance, catching the light just right, like something out of a movie. The driver stepped out quickly and bowed slightly.
"Young Master, here are the keys."
He handed the key fob to Yuri with both hands, a tone of quiet respect in his voice.
Yuri took the keys casually, about to slide into the driver's seat—
But then he glanced over his shoulder.
Y/N was still standing in the same spot, her eyes wide, mouth slightly open in disbelief.
He raised an eyebrow.
"What?" he said with a smirk. "You look like you just found out I'm secretly royalty or something."
She didn't respond. Just stared.
Yuri sighed and tossed the keys once in the air before catching them smoothly.
"You getting in or what? Or should I roll out the red carpet too?"
She rolled her eyes at his dramatics and muttered,
"Whatever."
Then she slipped into the passenger seat.
The ride was quiet.
Awkward.
But strangely… safe. Comfortable, even.
She didn't understand why. Maybe it was the way the car moved so smoothly. Or how Yuri didn't try to make conversation—just let the silence be what it was. He kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually, his eyes fixed on the road.
She glanced at him once… then quickly looked away.
⸻
When they arrived, the car slowed in front of a villa.
Not a house.
Not an apartment.
A villa.
Her eyes widened as the car passed the iron gate, driving up a stone path lined with manicured hedges and soft lights. In front of the house stood white marble pillars, a massive fountain in the center, water gliding like it belonged in a movie scene.
And then… a doorkeeper. In uniform.
Her mouth fell open a little.
"What the f—" she whispered under her breath.
Is this even real? Yuri? This Yuri? Red-haired, hoodie-wearing, lazy-in-class Yuri??
She turned to him, brows furrowed in disbelief.
Yuri casually parked, got out, and tossed the keys to the doorkeeper like this was just a routine
Yuri led the way through the grand hall. Y/N followed, trying not to stare at the extravagant details—the chandelier above, the echo of her steps, the silence that filled the space like it was watching her.
They stopped in front of a tall door. Yuri didn't knock—he just pushed it open.
Inside was a warm, private lounge area. The vibe was less formal, more lived-in. Dim lighting. Shelves full of old books. A faint smell of coffee and cigar smoke lingering in the air.
On the couch sat a man in his late 40s, dressed in simple black joggers and a loose, gray sweater. No flashy watch, no formal shoes. Yet somehow, his presence still filled the entire room.
Mr. Hanamitchi.
He looked up slowly, one arm resting on the back of the couch, the other holding a warm mug.
His sharp eyes locked onto Y/N instantly.
"So… you finally came."
He set the mug down and stood—casually, but with a quiet authority.
"I'm Haru Hanamitchi. Your father's old friend.. you can call me Uncle .. come sit here ."
There was no fake warmth, no smile. Just a steady gaze that made her shift where she stood.
"I asked to see you first because I have something to say before you meet him," he said, stepping closer, voice low but clear.
"Your father is in worse shape than you were told."
Y/N swallowed hard. Her hands clenched the sides of her jacket. She didn't speak—didn't know what to say.
Yuri stood off to the side, arms crossed, eyes flicking between the two of them.
Mr. Hanamitchi gestured to the couch beside him.
"Yuri, come sit here too."
Yuri sighed quietly and walked over, dropping onto the cushion with the kind of casual energy only he could pull off.
Mr. Hanamitchi leaned forward, fingers laced together.
"You'll be staying here with us for some time," he said, eyes on Y/N.
She blinked.
"Huh?"
"Your father is unconscious right now," he continued. "He's stable, but it's serious. I had a room cleaned and prepared for you. Starting tomorrow, you'll attend your classes with Yuri."
Then he looked at his son.
"Yuri."
Yuri glanced up.
"Keep her safe."
Y/N stared at them both, stunned.
"Uncle," she said quickly, finding her voice, "I can stay at my dad's house. You don't have to worry about me—I can take care of myself, really."
There was a brief silence. Then Mr. Hanamitchi smiled—just faintly.
"You're just like your dad."
That simple sentence made something twist in her chest.
She looked away, jaw tight, heart confused.
Yuri glanced at her from the side but said nothing.
Y/N stepped inside.
The room was neat—too neat.
White walls, pale curtains, a bed that looked like no one had ever dared to mess up the sheets. There was a soft scent of lavender in the air. Everything was spotless, tidy, organized.
She stood in the center of the room, unsure of what to do.
After years in the hostel, this felt… alien. Too quiet. Too clean. Too untouched.
Her eyes caught the glass sliding door. She walked over and stepped out onto the balcony.
The cool night breeze brushed her face gently. She inhaled deeply, trying to settle the ache in her chest.
Then her eyes shifted.
Just across, on the next balcony over—Yuri stood.
He had a piece of a cigar between his fingers, shielding the flame of a lighter with his hand, trying to light it.
Her breath hitched slightly. She hadn't expected him there.
He looked up, noticing her staring.
He exhaled and said casually,
"Don't tell my dad."
Y/N blinked.
"Huh?"
"That I smoke."
A smirk tugged at her lips.
"What if I do?"
He looked at her, eyes narrowing slightly, then said with a quiet, mocking threat:
"You'll see the last sun at that moment."