'Where is Yoichi?' Big Aunt Tsusiko's voice rang out from the dining room, sharp and demanding as she questioned the maids about his whereabouts. The sound made Yoichi's legs shake as he hesitated at the top of the stairs. <Guess this is fear>, Yoichi thought as he finally forced himself to descend. He knew his Big Aunt valued punctuality above all, and being late was already painting a bad picture of him.
On a normal day, he would have ratted out Haruki for her part in the fiasco, but he still needed her—for favors. Taking a deep breath, he quickened his pace down the stairs. When he reached the dining room, he found himself standing across the table from his Big Aunt. He bowed slightly before addressing her.
"Good evening, Aunt Tsusiko. I trust you had a splendid and fruitful day," he began, voice steady despite the hammering in his chest. "I apologize for my lateness. I spilled tea on myself earlier and had to clean up. It was all my fault, and I am truly sorry. I hope you can forgive me."
Kamiko rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, her irritation evident as she turned to Kameko, who was barely holding back a laugh. Of course, she knew what had really happened. Aunt Tsusiko, however, maintained her poised demeanor. She took a wine glass in hand and gently tapped it twice with a spoon, signaling Yoichi to stand properly.
"Page 42, Line 8 of 'Grace in the Modern World", she recited in her calm yet authoritative tone, leaving Yoichi momentarily stunned. "I see you're learning how to associate and communicate, Yoichi. Good job. I forgive you, but don't let this happen again. Understood?"
"Yes, Aunt Tsusiko," Yoichi replied before taking the seat beside Kamiko. She made a show of inching her chair away from him but froze when her mother shot her a disapproving glare. Yoichi noticed this and moved to switch seats, but before he could act, the maids hurried in, carrying trays of food. Seconds later, the table was filled with an assortment of dishes.
Yoichi began eating with meticulous care, recalling the lessons he'd absorbed from books on culinary etiquette and elite dining habits. He maintained a balanced pace, cutting his food neatly and dabbing his mouth with the napkin after every bite. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Aunt Tsusiko watching him. She smiled faintly, though whether it was in approval or amusement, he couldn't tell.
Just then, Kamiko's chair screeched as it was pushed back. Yoichi's head snapped to her, and his heart lurched—she was choking. Reacting without a second thought, he sprang from his seat, grabbed her by the arm, and pulled her to her feet. Wrapping his arms around her stomach, he performed the Heimlich maneuver. After three firm thrusts, Kamiko coughed out a fishbone that landed right in front of Aunt Tsusiko's plate.
Yoichi guided Kamiko back into her seat before rushing to dispose of the bone. He deposited it in the trash and washed his hands thoroughly, returning to his seat as if nothing had happened. The entire room remained silent, save for Aunt Tsusiko's bell-like laugh that broke the tension.
Aunt Tsusiko rang a small bell beside her, summoning a maid to her side. "Bring me the chefs and all the maids," she ordered. Her voice was calm, but the underlying edge sent a chill down Yoichi's spine. The maid bowed low and scurried away. Confused, Yoichi glanced at Kameko, who downed her glass of water before bolting out of the room. His curiosity grew as he turned to Kamiko, who looked ready to follow suit but froze at her mother's command.
"Stay put," Aunt Tsusiko said firmly. "You'll need to learn how to handle this sort of situation someday."
Kamiko's shoulders slumped, and Yoichi noticed the light in her eyes dim. Whatever was about to happen clearly wasn't going to be pleasant.
Moments later, the staff filed into the dining hall, their faces pale with fear. Two individuals—a maid and a chef—were forced to their knees in front of Aunt Tsusiko. Scattered before them were vials of poison and crumpled letters, bearing the markings of anonymous threats.
"Are you certain these are the culprits, Miss Chiyoko?" Aunt Tsusiko asked the head maid, who knelt beside the accused pair.
"Yes, Madam. The investigation was thorough, and they've been under surveillance for days. This oversight is entirely my fault. I should have acted sooner," Chiyoko admitted, bowing her head.
"Very well. Report to Master Iwao for your punishment later," Aunt Tsusiko said coldly.
"Yes, Madam," Chiyoko replied, rising to her feet.
Aunt Tsusiko turned to the kneeling pair. "Do either of you have any last words?"
"No, Madam," they said in unison, their voices trembling.
"Very well," she said, opening a small purse and pulling out a sleek handgun. Yoichi's breath caught in his throat as she raised the weapon and fired a single shot into the chef's forehead. Without hesitation, she shifted her aim to the maid and pulled the trigger again. The sound of the gunshots echoed through the hall, followed by the sickening thud of bodies hitting the floor.
Blood pooled around the fallen figures, the stark red staining the pristine marble floor. Aunt Tsusiko stood, gun in hand, and addressed the remaining staff.
"Let this serve as a warning," she said, her voice sharp as a blade. "Any attempt to harm my daughters or me will be met with the same fate. Am I clear?"
"Yes, Madam," the staff replied in unison, their voices quaking.
"Dismissed," she commanded. The group quickly filed out, their faces pale with terror. Two security guards entered and dragged the bodies away, while a pair of maids began scrubbing the blood from the floor. Aunt Tsusiko returned to her seat, placing the gun on the table beside her. She turned to Kamiko, who was still visibly shaken.
"Have you learned anything?" she asked.
Kamiko's gaze remained fixed on the glass of water in front of her. "No, Mother," she replied softly. "I don't understand."
"Patience, my child," Aunt Tsusiko said with a sigh. "One day, you'll understand."
Her gaze shifted to Yoichi, who immediately stiffened under her scrutiny. A faint smile tugged at her lips as she observed him. He swallowed hard, feeling a chill crawl down his spine. Yes, he thought, <this feeling is definitely fear>.