The Yakuza’s Mute Bride novel Chapter 76

Chapter 76

Chapter 76

When Naomi woke, the room was empty.

It took a long moment for my mind to catch up with her body, for the quiet to settle into something recognizable rather than alarming.

The ceiling above me was unfamiliar, pale and high, and the faint scent of antiseptic lingered in the air, mixed with something older-wood, incense, history. My throat throbbed dully, a reminder of the surgery, of the words I could not speak, of everything that had unraveled since I arrived in Japan.

Kyoto.

The memory returned slowly, painfully. The hospital. Tadashi’s eyes looking through me instead of at me. His voice, cold and distant, cutting away everything we had been.

I exhaled softly and lifted a hand to my hair, brushing my fingers through it in a familiar, grounding gesture. The ache in my chest pulsed steadily, but it was quieter now, less sharp than before. Maybe that was exhaustion. Maybe it was resignation.

Carefully, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and sat up. My body protested faintly, weakness still clinging to my muscles, but I was stronger than I expected. Strong enough to stand. Strong enough to walk.

I crossed the room slowly and stopped in front of the window.

61

Kyoto stretched out before me in muted morning light-temples tucked between modern buildings, narrow streets already stirring with life. It was beautiful in a way that felt distant, untouchable. Every time I came to this country, I felt the same quiet truth settle over me.

I did not belong here.

Not truly.

The only person who had ever made me feel welcome in this world of shadows and power had been Shun-sama.

Shun-sama.

The thought of him softened something inside me. He had looked at me with kindness the first day we met, as if he already knew I would matter. He had trusted me. Protected me. Given me a place when I had none.

And now he was gone.

I remembered hearing where he was buried. The information had come quietly, passed along with respect, as though his resting place was something sacred that should not be spoken of lightly.

I could go there.

The idea formed fully before doubt could interfere.

I could visit him. Say goodbye properly. Thank him.

And then I could leave.

The realization felt both terrifying and inevitable. I had already caused enough disruption simply by existing here. The council whispered. The elders questioned. Tadashi suffered. Every problem seemed to trace its way back to me, the foreign woman, the mute one, the weakness they all feared.

I could not fix Tadashi.

12:57 Mon, Jan 12

Chapter 76

I would not make him remember.

And I could not stay where I was no longer wanted.

I glanced at the clock on the wall. Early morning. Yukito would be gone for a short while. He had mentioned leaving to get coffee or breakfast, something small, something routine. An hour, perhaps less.

That was enough time.

I reached for my bag and pulled out my phone, my fingers steady as I searched for a local car service. The words came easily as I typed, as though I had been preparing for this moment all along. A destination. A pick-up location. No return trip

When the confirmation arrived, my heart tightened painfully, but I did not cancel.

I moved quickly then, quietly changing into the clothes I had arrived in. They felt strange against my skin, like remnants of another life, but I welcomed the familiarity. I did not know where they had placed my luggage, but that no longer mattered. I could buy what I needed later. I did not need much.

Only distance.

Only space.

Only enough courage to walk away.

As I stepped into the hallway, I paused briefly, listening. The house was quiet, the kind of quiet that came with vigilance rather than peace. I moved carefully, my footsteps light, my breathing shallow.

At the entrance, I saw Ota and Gio.

They looked up immediately, surprise flickering across their faces when they saw me dressed to leave. For a moment, none of us spoke. I met Ota’s gaze and gave a small nod, silently asking him not to stop me.

His expression shifted, conflicted.

I did not wait for him to decide.

I kept walking.

My phone vibrated in my hand, the message simple and final: Your taxi has arrived.

I stepped outside into the cool morning air and slid into the back seat of the waiting car. The driver glanced at me through the mirror, waiting.

“Please,” I typed quickly and showed him the screen, already knowing he understood. “Drive.”

The car pulled away just as a familiar voice called out behind me.

“Naomi-!”

Yukito.

I did not turn around.

I sank back into the seat as the car accelerated, the mansion disappearing from view. My chest ached, and tears burned at the corners of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.

This was not running away.

This was choosing to stop being a burden.

Chapter 76

I stared out the window as Kyoto passed by, streets unfolding like memories I would never truly own. Somewhere deep inside, a part of me screamed that I was making a mistake, that love was not something to abandon so easily.

But love should not require me to erase myself.

When the car stopped, I knew immediately that I was in the right place.

The cemetery was quiet, nestled against a backdrop of trees and stone, the air heavy with reverence. I stepped out slowly. my legs steady despite the tremor in my heart.

It did not take long to find him.

Shun Masayoshi’s gravestone stood dignified and simple, his name carved with care. I knelt in front of it without hesitation, my movements instinctive, respectful.

“How are you, Shun-sama?” I whispered silently, my lips barely moving.

My throat tightened as memories rushed in unbidden. The first day I met him. His gentle smile. The way he had looked at Tadashi with both pride and concern. The day he died, and the day I was forced to leave Japan, thinking I would never

return.

And now here I was again.

Back at the beginning.

Tears slipped free despite my resolve, blurring my vision as I bowed my head. “I tried,” I thought fiercely. “I really tried.”

I did not know how long I sat there. Time lost its shape, dissolving into grief and gratitude tangled together. Eventually, footsteps reached my ears, soft but unmistakable.

My body stiffened.

Slowly, I looked up.

My heart stopped.

Tadashi stood a short distance away, his posture rigid, his expression guarded/He looked different without the hospital bed, stronger even with the lingering injuries, but his eyes were the same as they had been when he told me to leave.

Cold.

Distant.

Unfamiliar.

“I should ask why you are here,” he said at last, his voice controlled, stripped of warmth. “But I was told you were Shun- sama’s helper before he died.”

The words struck with quiet cruelty, reducing everything I had been to a title stripped of meaning.

I nodded.

I did not trust myself to look at him fully. The sight of him hurt too much, a wound still open.

He watched me for a moment longer, then added, “You seem to have made yourself quite comfortable leaving without informing anyone.”

I swallowed and stood slowly, brushing the dust from my knees. I bowed my head politely, formally, the way one would to a

stranger.