Speaking of which, Rika Kawasaki did indeed have a nominal Younger Sister who was four or five years younger than her.
However, this Younger Sister did not share the same Father with her, but was born to the same Mother with a different man.
She was the result of her flirtatious Mother’s fleeting indulgence with some nameless Younger Sister’s Father outside the home.
In their distorted family, the couple silently acknowledged each other’s affairs, each playing their own games, maintaining a decadent balance beneath a polished surface.
However, play was one thing—bringing a “child” into the mix was something that should never have happened.
Yet at that time, Rika Kawasaki’s Mother seemed to harbor some unusual affection for that man.
Deep down, perhaps she also felt that with only Rika Kawasaki as her daughter, the Inheritance line was thin, and the Family Fortune would need more blood to support its future.
After weighing it all, she ultimately insisted on giving birth to this child.
Still, with her Mother’s then—and later—prominent status in both the family and society, it was hardly suitable to keep a Bastard Daughter born of an affair by her side for long; it would tarnish her reputation.
So, not long after the child was born, her Mother gave that man a generous Compensation, enough for him to squander for a while, on the condition that he must take the child far abroad and disappear as much as possible from their sight.
In the days that followed, though that man would bring the gradually growing child back home every year or so for a short visit—perhaps out of a sense of duty or to secure continued Child Support—Rika Kawasaki herself had barely seen this Younger Sister more than a handful of times; she could count them on her fingers.
After all, her Father, who was also a titan in the business world, would never allow her Mother to bring the Younger Sister’s Father and that “bastard child” home.
Therefore, in Rika Kawasaki’s already indifferent recollection of family relations, her memory of that nominal Younger Sister was extremely vague, reduced to nothing more than a distant symbol.
She only vaguely remembered that the girl wasn’t very old now—probably a high schooler in the midst of her Rebellious Phase.
That was about it; she had no other concrete impression.
Staring at the message her Mother sent on her phone screen, Rika Kawasaki’s bold eyebrows furrowed imperceptibly, a flicker of doubt crossing her mind.
After all, according to usual practice, even if her half-sister came back from abroad for a visit, it was almost always just her Mother, the Younger Sister, and that man having a meal together in another house under her Mother’s name—a place they didn’t often stay in.
That space was the domain of their so-called Three-Person Family.
Why, this time, had they specifically called her—the “outsider”—back to that so-called “home” for dinner?
Even though a strong sense of resistance and reluctance rose instinctively in her heart, as if some invisible thread was pulling at her, she couldn’t easily refuse.
Because she had already signed a clear written Promise with her Mother—so long as her Mother summoned her home, for whatever reason, she had to return at the appointed time, no excuses allowed.
Otherwise, the generous Allowance she depended on to maintain her current lifestyle each month would be cut off instantly, without any room for negotiation.
This Promise was a unique product left behind from a few years ago, when Rika Kawasaki, caught in her Rebellious Phase, found her relationship with her parents frozen at rock bottom, with frequent clashes and conflicts.
Both sides had compromised to reach this arrangement.
Back then, although her Mother and Father were always preoccupied with their respective careers and private affairs, showing little real concern or company for their daughter and letting her go her own way.
When they heard from Teachers and other sources that Rika Kawasaki had been repeatedly skipping classes, hanging out with Delinquent Girls from society, and even getting involved in fights, they could no longer turn a blind eye as Society Elites—their reputation was at stake.
Perhaps out of a need to correct past neglect, or simply to maintain the family’s reputation, they handled her with a heavy hand—processing a Temporary Suspension from school and then forcibly placing her under Home Confinement.
They called it giving her time to reflect and deeply consider her wrongdoings, and also hoped to use the opportunity to sever her ties with those Delinquent Girls—who they viewed as unsavory influences.
Rika Kawasaki’s parents believed that such physical isolation and material restrictions would forcibly correct their wayward daughter, restoring her to the “right track” they expected.
In reality, during the period when Rika Kawasaki was forced to stay home, her parents still remained out of sight, busy with business and social engagements, or lost in their own romantic worlds, never sparing even a moment to sit down sincerely and talk with their daughter or listen to her heart.
They simply spent large sums hiring renowned Family Tutors and expensive Psychologists, trying to “fix” her with professional theories and courses—yet were stingy with the most basic familial communication.
The result was predictable.
This lack of genuine “discipline” did not yield any positive effects, but instead greatly intensified the conflict.
Feeling lonely and humiliated, Rika Kawasaki could not endure it for long. She seized the chance to run away again and again—each time more determined than the last.
Afterwards, her parents would use their connections and wealth to find her and bring her back, each time costing them considerable effort.
This tug-of-war repeated several times, exhausting all involved.
After several rounds, Rika Kawasaki’s parents seemed to have finally lost all hope in this “incorrigible” daughter who had slipped completely from their control—even developing a hint of disgust.
It was as if they’d given up on her, no longer trying to understand or truly educate her, and simply for the sake of duty and family dignity, reached a cold agreement with her:
Each month, they would still provide enough money for her to live comfortably, provided that whenever they summoned her home, she must show up on time to maintain at least the appearance of family harmony.
“All right, you guys keep playing here, I’ve got something to do, so I’m heading out.”
Rika Kawasaki didn’t reply to her Mother’s message, simply swiping her finger swiftly across the screen to clear the notification.
She stood up and gave a casual wave to the Junior Members still laughing and fooling around in the room, her tone flat as she spoke.
Then she picked up the black leather jacket draped over the arm of the sofa, slipped it on smoothly, and got ready to leave.
But just as she turned to step out, a nearly animalistic intuition made her sharply aware of a powerful, complicated gaze fixed firmly on her.
She stopped, looking coldly in the direction of that gaze.
There, in her line of sight, was a Boy who looked rather young.
He was curled up in the corner of the sofa, half-forcibly embraced by one of her Junior Members.
His eyes were swollen red like overripe peaches, tears still clinging to the corners, as if he had only just finished a fierce bout of crying.
His features were delicate enough, but his face was bloodless now, filled with panic and helplessness, like a fawn trapped in a snare.
Rika Kawasaki found it odd, not understanding why this unfamiliar Boy was staring at her with such a gaze—one that mixed hope, pleading, and perhaps a hint of resentment.
But she was preoccupied and had no intention of lingering here, nor any patience to investigate someone else’s troubles.
She simply withdrew her gaze indifferently, as if she had seen and felt nothing, striding away without a backward glance and leaving the noisy Villa behind.
Outside the door, the evening breeze was cool on her face.
She started up the Motorcycle parked in the yard, the engine growling low as it carried her off toward the so-called Kawasakiya residence.