Chapter 39 – Words She Was Never Meant to Hear

The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the old ceiling fan.

Mai sat cross-legged on the bed, swinging her legs slowly, her small fingers tracing invisible shapes on the blanket. Rin stood near the window, pretending to scroll through her phone, though she hadn’t read a single word in minutes.

Something felt wrong.

Mai had been quiet all evening. Too quiet.

“Aunt Rin,” Mai said suddenly.

Rin flinched. “Hm?”

“Can I use your phone?”

Rin turned, surprised. “Why?”

Mai hesitated, then lifted her face. Her eyes were serious. Older than they should have been.

“I want to talk to Aiko.”

Rin’s chest tightened.

She had known this moment would come. She just hadn’t expected it to hurt this much.

“…Okay,” Rin said softly and handed her the phone.

Mai held it carefully, like something fragile. Rin watched her small fingers press the contact name she had memorized long ago.

The call rang.

Once.

Twice.

“Aiko here.”

Mai’s voice trembled. “It’s me.”

There was a pause on the other end. A sharp intake of breath.

“…Mai?”

“Yes.” Mai smiled faintly. “Where are you?”

Rin couldn’t hear Aiko’s reply, but she could imagine it. The surprise. The joy. The fear.

“I’m near the old river park,” Mai repeated aloud. “The one with the red bridge.”

She listened, nodding.

“…Okay. I understand.”

Mai ended the call and looked up at Rin.

“She’s there,” Mai said. “Can we go?”

Rin opened her mouth.

Closed it.

Then sighed.

“…Alright,” she said. “Get your jacket.”

Mai’s face lit up instantly.

The wedding venue glowed with soft lights.

White flowers lined the entrance. Crystal chandeliers shimmered above polished floors. Everything looked perfect. Too perfect.

Mai stood near the gate, holding Rin’s hand tightly.

“This place is big,” Mai whispered.

Rin swallowed. “Yeah… it is.”

They weren’t supposed to be here.

When Mai had overheard the word wedding on the phone, she hadn’t cried. She hadn’t screamed. She had simply looked at Rin with those quiet, serious eyes and said—

“I want to see Aiko.”

Rin had tried to refuse.

But Mai had already put on her shoes.

They entered through a side corridor, hidden from guests. Soft music drifted through the walls. Somewhere inside, Aiko was preparing to become someone else’s wife.

Mai didn’t know that.

She only knew her chest hurt.

They stopped near a private lounge when Rin froze.

Voices.

Rin pulled Mai gently behind a decorative pillar.

“Wait here,” Rin whispered.

Mai nodded, obedient.

But children were never good at staying where they were told.

Inside the lounge, Hiroshi Hoshizora stood with his back straight, his suit flawless. Across from him, Rin’s voice trembled with restrained anger.

“You went too far,” Rin said. “She’s just a child.”

Hiroshi replied calmly, “Children forget. Especially when raised properly.”

Mai’s fingers tightened around the edge of the wall.

Raised properly?

Rin’s voice rose. “You lied to Aiko. You lied to that child. You said Yuji and Mai were dead.”

Hiroshi exhaled. “Necessary lies.”

Mai’s heart skipped.

My name.

She leaned closer without realizing it.

“You destroyed three lives,” Rin said. “Yuji suffered. Aiko suffered. And Mai—”

“—is better off,” Hiroshi cut in. “A child born from disgrace has no place in my family.”

Mai’s ears rang.

Disgrace?

Rin laughed bitterly. “She’s your granddaughter.”

Silence.

Then Hiroshi spoke, colder than before.

“That child is nothing to me.”

Mai’s breath caught.

“She was born to trap my daughter,” Hiroshi continued. “And when that failed, I disposed of the problem. Orphanage. Accident story. Clean.”

Mai’s legs trembled.

Disposed?

Rin’s voice broke. “You kidnapped a newborn.”

“I corrected a mistake,” Hiroshi said flatly. “Aiko was sent abroad. Yuji was erased. And now she will marry properly.”

Mai felt something crack inside her chest.

Rin whispered, “She deserves to know the truth.”

“No,” Hiroshi replied. “Aiko will never meet that child again.”

Mai stumbled back.

Her heel hit the marble floor.

The sound echoed.

Rin spun around. “Mai—!”

Too late.

Mai stood there, eyes wide, face pale.

Hiroshi turned.

Their eyes met.

For the first time, he actually looked at her.

“So,” he said slowly. “You heard.”

Mai couldn’t speak.

Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.

Rin rushed to her side. “Mai, listen—”

“You’re… my grandfather?” Mai whispered.

Hiroshi didn’t answer.

Mai’s voice shook. “You said my mother died.”

Hiroshi’s gaze hardened. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

Tears spilled down Mai’s cheeks.

“You lied,” she said softly. “Papa never lies.”

Rin knelt in front of her. “Mai, please—”

Mai stepped back.

Her small hands clenched into fists.

“Aiko… is my mother,” she said, not asking.

Rin closed her eyes.

“Yes.”

Mai pressed her hands to her ears.

“No,” she whispered. “She didn’t come to me. She didn’t look for me.”

Rin reached for her. “She tried. She was stopped.”

Hiroshi turned away. “Enough. Take the child and leave.”

Mai looked past him, toward the closed doors of the hall.

“Aiko is in there,” she said.

Hiroshi blocked her path.

“She is not your concern.”

Mai looked up at him, tears streaking her face, but her eyes burned with something new.

“You’re scary,” she said quietly. “Papa said bad people don’t feel sorry.”

Hiroshi stiffened.

Mai turned to Rin. “I want to go home.”

Rin nodded, choking back tears. “Okay. We’ll go.”

As they walked away, Mai didn’t cry loudly.

She didn’t scream.

She simply held her chest like it hurt to breathe.

Outside, Rin’s phone rang.

Yuji.

She answered immediately.

“Where are you?” Yuji asked, panic clear in his voice.

Rin looked at Mai, then at the glowing wedding hall behind them.

“…She knows,” Rin said.

Silence.

“She heard everything.”

Yuji’s breath shook through the phone.

“Put her on.”

Rin handed the phone to Mai.

“Papa?” Mai whispered.

Yuji’s voice broke instantly. “Mai… I’m here.”

Her lips trembled. “Why didn’t she come?”

Yuji closed his eyes.

“Because she was trapped,” he said softly. “Just like you were.”

Mai cried then.

Not loud.

Just quietly, like her heart was too tired to scream.

“I don’t want her to marry,” she whispered.

Yuji swallowed. “I know.”

Rin watched the wedding hall doors open slightly as laughter drifted out.

Inside, Aiko was smiling for guests.

Outside, her daughter finally knew the truth.

And nothing would ever be the same again.