The dining hall of the Shiraishi estate was steeped in an awkward elegance. The room was adorned with elaborate floral arrangements, a soft fragrance of lilies permeating the air. The polished, lacquered table stretched endlessly, its surface reflecting the warm glow of ornate chandeliers. Servants moved about with practiced efficiency, pouring tea and presenting dishes with silent precision. Yet, despite the beauty, tension hung as thick as the steam wafting from the bowls of miso soup.

Isamu sat near the head of the table, his posture immaculate and intimidating in its composed simplicity. Beside him, Aoi was an image of contrast—leaning slightly back, his fingers absently tapping against the table, his sharp eyes scanning the room with casual amusement. Across from them, Kamui and Nanako presided over the gathering, their smiles stretched just a little too wide. Further towards the twins, Sara sat like a shadow, her expression blank, though her brown eyes gleamed with sharp awareness.

The twins, Mahira and Izumi, alternated between exchanging wary glances with each other and shooting furtive looks at Sara, who appeared far more interested in her sashimi than the strained conversation.

Nanako, however, seemed oblivious to the palpable discomfort. Her radiant smile was a mask that refused to falter, and her voice was a lilting tune of forced hospitality. “Fujin-sama, Nahuya-sama, it is truly an honor to host such esteemed guests tonight. Rarely do we get the privilege to welcome men of your stature into our humble home.”

Aoi smiled back, though his eyes betrayed mild amusement. “Gumi-san, you’re far too kind. Humble wouldn’t be the word I’d use for such an exquisite setting.”

Nanako beamed, clasping her hands together in an exaggerated gesture. “Oh, you flatter me, Nahuya-sama! I only wish my daughter Izumi could learn a thing or two from such charming and cultured gentlemen.” She glanced meaningfully at Izumi, whose face immediately flushed crimson.

Izumi stiffened, her chopsticks clattering slightly against her bowl. “Okaasan... Please.”
Nanako waved a dismissive hand, her voice now tinged with faux innocence. “What? I’m merely pointing out how lucky we are to be in such company. After all, it’s not every day that a young woman has the chance to meet such... eligible bachelors.”
Aoi’s brows rose slightly, his lips twitching in amusement. Isamu, on the other hand, remained stoic, his chopsticks moving with deliberate precision as he picked at his meal. I am used to this...

Sensing an opening, Nanako pressed on, her voice taking on a syrupy sweetness. “Izumi has always been such a diligent learner, you know. She excels at the tea ceremony and even ikebana. Why, just last month, she was invited to demonstrate her skills at a cultural event.”

Sara, seated at the far end of the table near the twins, kept her gaze on her plate, her lips pressed into a thin line to suppress the occasional smirk that threatened to surface.
Nanako’s gazed upon her. “Sara-chan, you’ve been so quiet. Surely you have something to share with our esteemed guests?”
Sara’s grip on her chopsticks tightened slightly. “I wasn’t aware my voice was needed, Nanako-san,” she replied evenly, her tone polite but laced with an edge that didn’t go unnoticed by those paying attention.
Nanako laughed, a brittle sound. “Oh, but of course it’s needed! A family dinner is no place for silence. Isn’t that right, Fujin-sama?”

Isamu looked up briefly, his dark eyes settling on Sara for a moment longer than necessary before returning to Nanako. “Conversation should be organic, Gumi-san. Forcing it can often lead to... unintended consequences.”
Sara’s lips twitched ever so slightly at his words, but she remained silent.
Aoi, sensing an opportunity, leaned forward with an easy grin. “But I must admit, I’m curious about Sara-san’s thoughts. After all, she’s the most intriguing presence at this table.”

Sara’s gaze flicked to Aoi, her expression calm but her eyes sharp. “Intriguing, Nahuya-sama? I’m not sure how sitting and eating my meal quietly qualifies as intriguing.”

Aoi chuckled. “Sometimes, silence speaks louder than words."

Mahira groaned softly under his breath, muttering, “Here we go...”
Sara’s lips quirked upward, but she remained silent, her gaze flicking between Nanako and the men seated across from her.

Kamui cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. “Aoi-sama, Isamu-sama, perhaps we should focus on the meal. The chef prepared some excellent seasonal dishes that—”

Nanako interrupted, her tone turning syrupy sweet again.
“Ah,” Nanako continued, her tone almost theatrical, “and she’s such a wonderful cook! Izumi, dear, why don’t you tell Fujin-sama and Nahuya-sama about the dishes you prepared for New Year’s?”
Izumi looked like she wanted to disappear into her chair. “Okaasan, I really don’t think—”
“Nonsense!” Nanako interrupted, her laugh tinkling awkwardly. “She made the most divine osechi ryori! Truly, a modern-day yamato nadeshiko! Don’t you think so, Fujin-sama?”
Isamu set his chopsticks down and looked directly at Nanako, his deep voice carrying an undertone of detached politeness. “It’s admirable to uphold traditions, Gumi-san. However, I believe compatibility extends beyond surface skills.”

Nanako faltered for a moment, her smile slipping ever so slightly before she recovered. “Oh, of course, of course! I only meant that Izumi is a well-rounded young lady. And, you know, they say marriage brings luck to a family.”

At this, Aoi let out a soft chuckle, leaning forward slightly. “Luck? Perhaps. But I’ve found that luck often favors those who make their own path.”

Kamui cleared his throat, trying to steer the conversation away from dangerous waters. “Ah, yes. Speaking of paths, Fujin-sama, I’ve heard rumors about your company’s expansion into the international market. Fascinating developments—”

Nanako faltered, her smile slipping for a fraction of a second before she recovered. “Oh, but of course! Passion is so important. Izumi is very passionate about her studies, her art, and—” she hesitated for just a moment, her gaze darting between Isamu and Aoi, “building meaningful relationships.”

Aoi leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, his smile widening. “Ah, relationships. They’re quite the delicate art themselves.”

Sara, unable to resist the growing absurdity, spoke up, her tone light but cutting. “Delicate, indeed. One misstep and everything crumbles.”

But Nanako chose to ignore the jab. “And Mahira, my son, he’s just as accomplished! Why, he recently graduated top of his class and has been receiving offers from some very prestigious firms. Isn’t that right, Mahira?”

Mahira shot his mother a look of sheer disbelief. “Okaasan, this isn’t the time—”

But Nanako was already in full matchmaking mode. “Oh, and Mahira is such a dutiful son. Always looking out for his siblings, always taking care of the family. A true head of the household in the making!”

Sara couldn’t hold it in anymore. A soft, almost imperceptible snicker escaped her lips.
Mahira whipped his head toward her, narrowing his eyes.

“Sara nee-san, is something funny?”

Sara’s lips twitched again as she met his gaze. “Apologies, Mahira. It’s just... your mother’s enthusiasm is commendable. Truly, I’m in awe.”

Izumi buried her face in her hands, clearly mortified.
Aoi chuckled, shaking his head. “I must say, Shiraishi-san, your family is certainly... memorable.”

Nanako, oblivious to the growing tension, took this as a compliment. “Oh, you’re too kind, Nahuya-sama. We only aim to please.”

By the time dessert was served, the atmosphere had become a chaotic mix of amusement, embarrassment, and thinly veiled exasperation.
Before the meal concluded, Nanako made one final attempt, turning to Isamu with an almost desperate smile. “Fujin-sama, Nahuya-sama, we hope you’ve enjoyed this evening. Perhaps you’ll grace us with your presence again sometime?”

Aoi’s grin was sharp. “We’ll certainly consider it. This has been... unforgettable.”
Isamu stood, his movements fluid and deliberate. “Thank you for your hospitality. It’s been enlightening.”
As the guests began to leave, Sara remained seated, her gaze distant as if she were already elsewhere. Isamu paused briefly near her, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

“You handle tension well, Shiraishi-san. A skill that’s often underestimated.”
Sara looked up, her eyes meeting his with a quiet intensity. “Survival often requires it, Fujin-sama.”

With that, he inclined his head and walked away, leaving Sara to wonder if he had seen through more than she intended to reveal.

Aoi leaned towards Isamu, his voice low but amused. “You know, if this is what family dinners are like, I might start attending more often.”
Isamu shot him a sidelong glance, his tone dry. “You’re welcome to come without me next time.”