Chapter 28: A Corrupted Home (Part 2)

So Rika Kawasaki didn’t bother trying to look for her parents.

She simply relied on her instincts and wandered through the labyrinthine mansion, searching for signs or the location of the restroom.

When she finally found a restroom at the end of a long corridor, she suddenly noticed, in a particularly dim corner by the corridor, half-shrouded by a giant potted plant, two blurry figures—a man and a woman—pressed tightly together.

The man was affectionately wrapping his arms around the woman’s neck, his face slightly turned as he kissed her passionately, their pose deeply entwined.

Rika Kawasaki only shot them a quick glance from the corner of her eye, then immediately looked away, not daring to stare any longer.

She lowered her head and hurried straight into the nearby restroom.

After all, she was rather mature for her age and knew this was not something a child should be watching; of course, she wouldn’t just stand there foolishly, staring at such a private moment.

But when she came out of the restroom, the couple who had been lost in their kiss in that dark corner had also finished their tryst.

They stepped out from their hidden spot, one after the other, adjusting their appearances, and walked out toward the bright, bustling main banquet hall.

Rika Kawasaki, who also needed to return to the Banquet Hall, kept a distance that wouldn’t attract attention and quietly followed behind them.

Her gaze, almost involuntarily, landed on the man’s back.

There was something inexplicably familiar about his figure and the way he walked.

When that couple—just moments ago so intimate—walked out from the quiet, dimly-lit Corridor and stepped into the dazzling, music-filled, and laughter-soaked luxury Banquet Hall—

They seemed, in an instant, to be bound by some invisible rule.

With practiced ease, they exchanged a glance, a silent look of mutual understanding.

Then, as if they were simply two unrelated strangers by chance going the same way, they quickly and naturally parted, faces expressionless, each blending into the crowd in a different direction.

But Rika Kawasaki, who had quietly followed behind and witnessed every subtle change, stood frozen as if struck by lightning.

Her feet felt nailed to the smooth marble floor, unable to move at all.

Her cold, distant gray-black eyes were now wide open, filled with utter disbelief and a dazed sense of her entire world falling apart.

The noise around her seemed to instantly fade away; all she could hear was the roar of blood rushing to her head.

It turned out, just now, when that man turned his face for a final silent exchange with the woman, the corridor’s wall lamp shone perfectly on most of his profile.

In that instant, Rika Kawasaki could not possibly have mistaken— the man who had just been passionately kissing a strange woman in the shadows was actually…

It was her Father…

At that moment, little Rika Kawasaki felt as if her mind was about to burn out from the overwhelming surge of information, her CPU buzzing as if overloaded, her stomach churning with nausea rising in her throat.

Because at ten years old, she was completely unable to process, unable to comprehend, the explosive and shocking scene before her.

【Why… why would Dad do that… with that woman…?】

Although even as a child, Rika Kawasaki had vaguely felt that her Father and Mother were nothing like the other kids’ parents; they never spent much time with her, their hugs were always brief, and their smiles often seemed tired and perfunctory.

But almost every child, when young, instinctively idolizes their Mother and Father, seeing them as all-powerful superheroes, thinking they are wonderful, amazing people—their very first idols.

Grandfather Kawasaki and Grandmother Kawasaki often patted her head and comforted the lonely Rika Kawasaki in gentle, elderly voices, telling her that her Mother and Father were working hard outside, earning lots and lots of money, and that’s why they didn’t have so much time to be with her.

Grandfather Kawasaki and Grandmother Kawasaki also often reassured Rika Kawasaki, telling her that her Mother and Father were earning lots and lots of money, so they didn’t have time to accompany her.

So, in the innocent worldview of the still-young Rika Kawasaki, though her parents’ images were vague and distant, they were still strong and worthy of Trust, and made her feel a secret pride in front of her classmates.

But now, at this very moment, it was as if something—a certain “Trust” and “Perfect Family Fantasy” Crystal—had shattered in her heart with a clear and piercing crack, splintering into countless irreparable pieces.

A cold wave of disappointment and betrayal drowned her.

Rika Kawasaki, in a daze, subconsciously wanted to go find her Mother.

She didn’t even know if she wanted to tell her Mother what she had seen.

But by the time Rika Kawasaki, threading her way through the chattering crowd, finally found her Mother sitting on a luxurious velvet Living Room Sofa, her legs felt suddenly filled with heavy, icy lead, unable to take a single step forward.

Because she saw her Mother, cheeks flushed from drinking, sitting sideways on the Living Room Sofa.

Her Mother was smiling in a way Rika had never seen before—so strange, even a little disgusting—at a very young, student-like handsome man sitting close beside her, a smile that was unmistakably flirtatious.

What made her feel like she’d fallen into an ice cave was that her Mother’s hand was naturally resting on the young man’s smooth thigh, exposed by his knee-length shorts, her fingers tracing an ambiguous, gentle rhythm.

The young man replied with a shy yet suggestive smile.

“Hey, child, don’t stand in the middle of the way. What if someone bumps into you?”

A woman wearing a custom-tailored Suit, holding a tall glass of golden Champagne, and looking rather impatient, almost bumped into the frozen, soulless Rika Kawasaki.

She frowned and spoke with displeasure.

But Rika Kawasaki was like a puppet whose soul had been snatched away, unresponsive, driven only by instinct as she stiffly, step by step, made her way back to the unnoticed corner from before.

Not far away, the children still laughed and played, their voices now especially jarring to her ears.

Precocious as she was, Rika Kawasaki, in that moment, though still so young, could already, by a sense beyond her years, understand the meaning behind her parents’ actions—naked betrayal.

Both had, with unspoken understanding and practiced skill, betrayed this so-called sacred Marriage, betrayed whatever vows of Love may have once existed, and betrayed the fragile shell called “Family.”

And she, Rika Kawasaki, was nothing more than the Crystal—so ironic, so unnecessary—born from this already riddled and decayed Marriage, from this so-called Love that had long since soured…