Chapter 38: Time's Up
Takumi's hand trembled on the doorknob as he stepped deeper into the room, his gaze darting from one face to the next. Audrey, standing firm in the center. Damian leaning against the wall, arms folded. Kenzo seated with a laptop, calm but watchful. Hana near the window, eyes sharp as a blade.
"You guys did all this?" Takumi's voice cracked—half disbelief, half fury. His eyes scanned the room like a cornered animal. "You set this up? You're the ones behind this?"
Audrey tilted her head slightly, voice cool but steady. "You came looking for Rina. You found something else instead."
Takumi let out a harsh laugh, filled with disbelief. "You broke into my life. You manipulated everything. Who the hell do you think you are?"
"You're playing god," he snarled. "Who gave you the right—"
"You did," Kenzo said simply, not looking up from his screen. "Every bruise, every threat, every file you buried. Every system you thought you owned. You gave us everything we needed the moment you laid a hand on her."
"Don't act like heroes," Takumi growled. "You don't know what she did. You don't know what she's like behind closed doors."
Damian pushed off the wall, arms uncrossing. "We know enough. We've seen enough."
Takumi's eyes narrowed. "You think exposing this makes you righteous? You don't know what you've just started."
Damian pushed off the wall. "Time's up."
At his words, Kenzo hit enter.
A soft beep. Then the sound of digital fireworks—files auto-uploading to every major news outlet in the country, including anonymous tips sent directly to law enforcement. Confessions, recordings, the hidden camera footage from the apartment hallway, hospital documents, even the forged medical reports Takumi had arranged through bribed physicians.
Takumi's phone lit up instantly.
One. Three. Ten messages. A dozen more.
The screen glowed with notifications from coworkers, family, business associates.
- Is this true?- What the hell is going on?- You need to respond. Now.- Call me back. Now.
More notifications arrived—news updates:
BREAKING: Prominent Executive Tied to Domestic Abuse Cover-UpLeaked Footage Shows Violence Hidden Behind Power
Takumi's expression twisted as he scrolled through the headlines. His jaw clenched, thumb tapping furiously to stop the cascade. But it was too late.
"You… you idiots," he spat, voice rising in pitch. "Do you even know what you've done?"
"Held up a mirror," Audrey said softly.
"You just ruined a man's life!"
"No," Hana stepped forward now, arms crossed. "You did that yourself. We just turned on the lights."
Takumi shook his head violently, pacing, muttering to himself. "This is war. You realize that, don't you? You think the truth matters? You think people care about facts? They'll twist this. My team—my family—we'll crush this. I'll bounce back. I always do."
Kenzo finally looked up, his tone steady and clinical. "Not this time."
Audrey stepped closer, voice still calm but resolute. "You had 24 hours. You could've chosen justice. Now you'll taste judgment."
Takumi's chest rose and fell rapidly. His phone buzzed again. He looked down. It was his father.
He didn't answer.
"Tell me who you are," he barked. "What is this? Who even are you people?"
Kenzo clicked open another window and rotated the laptop.
There, a black screen with white text:
We are the echo of every scream you silenced.
Takumi stared. Then he stumbled back, knocking into a chair, face pale.
"You're insane," he whispered. "All of you. This is terrorism."
Damian laughed. "Big word for someone who beats his wife."
Takumi whirled on him, fists clenched.
But he didn't move.
Because for the first time in his life, he was the one being watched.
Then Hana took a step forward, eyes burning with a quiet intensity. "You want to know what you did?" she said.
Hana stepped forward, her gaze hard and unblinking. She didn't reach for any device. Instead, she closed her eyes.
Takumi blinked—and the room shifted.
It wasn't physical. No lights dimmed. No screen flickered.
But in an instant, his breath hitched.
The walls around him blurred, melted—and suddenly, he was seeing a bathroom mirror, fogged and cracked. He saw trembling hands applying concealer to a cheekbone already purpling. He saw tear-blurred vision trying to align eyeliner like nothing had happened. He felt the ache in his chest, the raw sting of breath through bruised ribs.
"What—" Takumi staggered, clutching the back of a chair. "What the hell is this?"
"You're seeing what she lived," Hana said quietly, eyes still closed, hand just barely lifted in his direction. "Through her eyes."
Takumi turned his head—but the scene followed him. Rina's vision. Her trembling. Her fear.
The hallway. The sound of footsteps. Keys turning in a lock that made her flinch. The pressure of silence.
A hand yanking her back by the wrist. Words like weapons. You embarrassed me. Do you want me to lose everything because you can't shut your mouth?
"Stop it!" Takumi cried out. "Get out of my head!"
Hana opened her eyes. "You wanted to see the truth? This is the only way you'd understand."
He collapsed into the chair, gasping for air. But it wasn't guilt clouding his face—it was panic. Desperation. Because no amount of charm or connections could erase what he had just felt.
And he knew: there was no escaping it now.
"No—" Takumi's voice broke. "Stop this. You don't get to twist my—"
"We didn't twist anything," Audrey said softly. "We're showing you. You just never looked."
Takumi's breathing grew ragged. He tried to stand, then sank back down. He gripped the armrests of his chair, watching as the very worst of himself played on loop.
He didn't break because he felt guilty.
He broke because he finally understood—he couldn't undo any of it. And everyone knew now.
Audrey's voice cut through the silence.
"You can run. You can scream. But it's over. The world sees you now."
Takumi didn't respond. He sat heavily in the chair behind him, staring at the phone in his hand, at the dozens of messages, at the unraveling thread of his perfect world.
Then—
The distant sound of police sirens began to grow.
Cliffhanger.
Takumi staggered to his feet, wild-eyed. Panic licked at the edges of his thoughts. His gaze shot to the door. For a split second, he thought maybe—just maybe—he could bolt. Get out. Disappear. He turned on his heel.
But before his hand could even graze the doorknob, Damian stepped forward. Silently. Unflinching.
He didn't say a word.
Just blocked the exit with the weight of his body and the fire in his stare.
Takumi froze.
The message was clear.
You're not leaving.
The team didn't move. They waited.
Takumi tried to square his shoulders, still breathing hard—but the sound of heavy boots on the hallway tile broke through the thick silence. He looked toward the door.
A sharp knock. Then a commanding voice: "Police. Open up."
Takumi stumbled backward as Audrey stepped forward and pulled the door open.
Two officers entered, firm and professional. "Takumi Sakamoto, you are under arrest for domestic abuse, obstruction of justice, falsification of medical records, and unlawful surveillance."
"No, wait—wait!" Takumi held up his hands, his eyes wide with panic. "This is a setup. I was going to go to the police! I was—"
The officer didn't flinch. "You've had your chance."
Cuffs clicked around his wrists mid-denial.
Damian stood by the wall, arms crossed. Audrey remained still as stone.
As Takumi was led past them, he turned to glare at the team one last time.
"You'll regret this."
But no one responded.
Kenzo simply murmured, "You're already regretting it."
Takumi was dragged into the corridor, his protests growing fainter with every step.
Outside the window, camera flashes exploded in bursts of white and red, illuminating the hallway in erratic strobe-light flashes. Reporters shouted his name, their voices rising above the chaos.
"Mr. Sakamoto! Is it true you abused your wife?" "Takumi—do you have anything to say to the victims?"
He winced, turning his head, but the flashes followed him like hounds. One bulb burst so close to his face that he had to shut his eyes against the onslaught.
Earlier that morning…
The safehouse was calm, quiet, but brimming with purpose. Kenzo hunched over his laptop, tapping rapidly as he traced and forged a false trail—credit card transactions, blurred CCTV footage, travel pings from burner phones. Hana paced slowly behind him, her mind already forming the containment pattern around the decoy hotel.
Damian stood near the window, arms folded, watching traffic routes and confirming exit strategies. Audrey was the last to arrive, her voice low and certain as she said, "Now is the time. Tip the press."
Kenzo nodded and clicked send.
A list of carefully curated files, timestamped, geo-tagged, and titled ANONYMOUS WHISTLEBLOWER: HIGH-PROFILE ABUSER COVER-UP was dispatched to every major media outlet in the city.
The location? Exactly where Takumi would be arrested.
They had planned it all.
And now, Takumi—flanked by cops and swarmed by cameras—was walking straight into the storm they built.
Back at the safehouse, the team watched the breaking news unfold on the muted television screen. The footage looped: Takumi in cuffs, his face pale under the onslaught of flashbulbs. The anchor's voice described the charges in clinical detail.
Rina sat curled on the couch, hands clenched in her lap, eyes locked on the screen.
Audrey knelt beside her and quietly reached for the remote. She turned the TV off.
The silence after the broadcast was heavier than any words.
"He's gone, Rina," Audrey said softly. "He can't touch you anymore."
Rina's lips trembled. "I... I didn't think it would ever happen."
Audrey wrapped her arms around her. "You're safe now. You're not alone."
Across the room, Damian leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed—but his eyes were gentle. He pushed off the counter and walked over, gently placing a hand on Rina's shoulder. "You did good," he said softly. "Really good."
Hana crouched beside her and offered a half-smile. "If you ever want to scream into a pillow or punch something, I know a great rooftop."
That actually earned a small laugh from Rina—fragile, but real.
Kenzo finally approached, kneeling slightly to meet her eyes. "You were brave," he said quietly. "You didn't just survive. You fought."
Rina swallowed hard, nodding, and let herself cry—not from fear, but release. She was surrounded. She was seen.
Audrey didn't let go.
They didn't need to say it out loud.
This wasn't the end.
But it was a beginning.
One hour later
She sobbed into her sleeve, curling inward. For the first time in a long time, she let herself fall apart.
A knock came—soft, hesitant.
She didn't answer.
"...Audrey?" Kenzo's voice was quiet through the door. "Can I come in?"
Audrey sniffled and wiped her face quickly. "Yeah."
He stepped inside, gently closing the door behind him. He didn't speak right away—just sat near her, not too close, just enough to be present.
"I saw the light on," he said finally. "And... I don't know. I just thought maybe you didn't want to be alone."
She laughed softly, still teary. "You thought right."
Kenzo's expression was full of quiet worry. "Today was a lot. For all of us... but especially you."
Audrey nodded, trying to breathe through another wave. "I thought I could handle it. I always think I can handle it."
"You don't have to," he said gently. "Not alone."
There was silence for a moment.
Then Audrey said, her voice raw, "Rina looked at me like I was the strong one. But I'm not. I still remember the night I didn't run. I remember every second I stayed."
Kenzo looked at her then—not with pity, but with something softer. Something fierce.
"You were there for her," he said. "You gave her something no one else could. That matters. That changes everything."
Audrey exhaled, tears returning. "Why does it still hurt so much?"
"Because you care," he whispered. "Because you haven't stopped fighting."
She let out a shaky breath, her voice barely audible. "I try so hard to hold it all together. For the team. For Rina. For everyone. But sometimes I... I just can't."
Kenzo reached out without hesitation, wrapping his arms around her—warm, protective, steady. Audrey didn't resist. She crumbled into him, sobbing into his chest, her hands clutching at the front of his shirt. He pressed his cheek gently to the top of her head, his voice steady and quiet.
"I've got you," he murmured. "You don't have to be the strong one all the time. Not with me."
She let out a soft cry, her body shaking in his arms. "I'm just so tired, Kenzo."
"I know," he said. "But you're not alone."
One of his hands reached down to hold hers, fingers intertwining, grounding her. She held on tightly.
"You ground me, Audrey," he whispered. "More than I know how to say."
Audrey let out a soft breath and shifted just slightly, wrapping her arms tighter around him. Her cheek pressed closer to his chest, where she could hear the steadiness of his heart beneath the quiet fabric.
"I don't want to lose this," he murmured.
"You won't," she whispered. "Not as long as we keep showing up."
Kenzo kissed her temple—gentle, almost reverent. Not needing to be more. Just enough.
They stayed there—two souls half between worlds, hearts still healing.
To the rest of the world, they were ghosts walking borrowed ground. But here, in this quiet moment, they were real. Just two people who had held too much for too long.
Kenzo let out a quiet breath and rested his forehead lightly against hers. In the soft warmth of the room, with her tears drying against his shirt, he felt a stillness he hadn't known he needed.
In all his life—spent chasing truths, buried in code and solitude—he had never cared for someone like this. Never wanted so badly to protect something fragile and fierce all at once.
He closed his eyes.
"I've always thought it was easier to stay alone," he said, voice barely above a whisper. "Easier to focus, to survive. But now... I don't want easy. I want this. You."
Audrey looked up at him slowly. Her eyes red-rimmed, but calm now. Grounded.
"Then stay," she said.
He didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
They stayed there—two souls half between worlds, hearts still healing.
But not alone.
Never alone.