Inspector Nakamura wasted no time launching an investigation into how Ryohta had managed to send the letter to Aika. The prison was put on high alert, and every piece of mail going in or out was scrutinized. But despite their efforts, the source of the letter remained a mystery.
Aika tried to focus on running the café, but the fear was always there, lurking in the back of her mind. Every time the door opened, she would glance up, half-expecting to see Ryohta standing there. The letter had shattered the sense of safety she had worked so hard to build, and she wasn't sure how to get it back.
Yumi stayed by her side, offering support and encouragement. "We'll figure this out," she said firmly. "Ryohta's behind bars. He can't hurt you."
But Aika wasn't so sure. The letter had been a reminder that Ryohta's reach extended far beyond the walls of his prison cell. He had connections, resources, and a twisted determination that made him dangerous, even from behind bars.
One evening, as Aika was closing up the café, Inspector Nakamura stopped by with an update. "We've identified a possible accomplice," he said, his expression grim. "One of the guards at the prison has been smuggling messages for Ryohta. We're questioning him now, but it's clear that Ryohta's influence runs deeper than we thought."
Aika's heart sank. "What does this mean? Is he planning something?"
Inspector Nakamura hesitated. "We don't know yet. But we're doing everything we can to ensure your safety. In the meantime, I want you to be extra cautious. Don't go anywhere alone, and keep your phone with you at all times."
Aika nodded, though her mind was racing. The thought of Ryohta orchestrating something from prison was terrifying. She had thought she was safe, that the worst was behind her. But now, the shadows of the past were closing in again, threatening to undo everything she had worked so hard to build.
That night, as she lay in bed, Aika couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. She checked the locks on her doors and windows, her hands trembling as she double-checked each one. The city outside was quiet, the streets bathed in the soft glow of neon lights. But inside her apartment, the shadows seemed darker, more menacing.