The V-tuber Who Became Obsessed With Me Chapter 19: After the coffee date ( third person’s pov ) her

The ssage ca that night.

Unknown number. No warning.

Just a notification lighting up her screen while she sat alone in her room, the city dim beyond the glass.

She picked it up and read it once.

Then again.

Her fingers tightened slightly around the phone. Her eyes widened. Not dramatically. Not in a way anyone watching would catch. Just enough.

She didn’t reply.

She sat there for a long mont with the phone in her hand and the weight of sothing old and buried pushing quietly back to the surface.

Then she locked the screen and stood up.

The next morning was quiet.

Raina moved through her room with purpose, pulling a small suitcase from the closet and packing only what she needed. Light. Efficient. No hesitation in her movents even if her mind was running ahead of them.

Clothes. Docunts. Essentials.

Nothing unnecessary.

Her phone vibrated on the dresser.

She glanced at it. Didn’t pick it up.

Not yet.

"Malik," she said as she stepped out, bag in hand. "We’re leaving."

"Yes ma’am."

The drive to the airport passed in silence. She sat in the backseat eyes forward, thoughts moving in careful loops she refused to fully follow. Whatever that ssage was, whatever it ant, she would deal with it directly.

That had always been her way.

They pulled up at the private terminal entrance.

She stepped out. Black shades. A black wig falling neatly over her shoulders, just enough to distort recognition without drawing attention.

Inside everything moved quickly.

First class check-in. Minimal waiting. Minimal interaction.

Exactly how she preferred it.

At the counter the attendant offered a polished smile.

"Good morning. Passport please."

Raina handed it over without a word.

The na printed there read: Ishigami Himari.

The attendant scanned it, typed sothing into the system and looked back up.

"Flying to Tokyo today Ms. Ishigami?"

"Yes."

"Any checked luggage?"

"Just this."

"Thank you. You’ll be boarding shortly. Gate A3."

She nodded and took the passport back.

Security was routine. Bag scanned. tal detector. A brief glance. Nothing more.

At the gate boarding had already begun. She joined the line keeping her distance from the others, head slightly lowered, her presence intentionally forgettable.

Her phone vibrated.

She checked it.

Ethan.

"Thanks for yesterday. I had fun. Hope we can do it again soti."

Sothing in her softened . She hadn’t expected that.

A small smile touched her lips as she typed back.

"I had fun too. I’d love to do it again soti".

She sent it and locked the phone.

"Ma’am, may I see your boarding pass?"

She looked up. The airline staff stood in front of her, professional and patient.

She handed it over.

"Thank you Ms. Ishigami. First class, straight ahead and to your left once you board."

"Thank you."

Inside the aircraft the shift was imdiate.

Quieter. More space. Fewer people. Exactly as intended.

"Welco aboard Ms. Ishigami," the flight attendant said with a slight bow. "May I take your coat?"

"I’m fine. Thank you."

"Your seat is 1A. Please let know if you need anything during the flight."

She nodded and moved past.

The flight to Tokyo Narita took just over thirteen hours.

She didn’t sleep much. Didn’t watch anything either. Just sat there composed and still while her mind kept circling back to that ssage and the face attached to it.

They landed the next evening.

By the ti she stepped out of Narita the air felt different. Familiar. Heavier in a way she had never been able to explain and had stopped trying to.

A black car was already waiting at the kerb, engine running. The driver opened the door the mont he saw her.

She got in without a word.

The door shut.

The car pulled away into Tokyo traffic heading west.

An hour and forty minutes later they turned off the main road toward Mizuhara.

The compound sat behind a high stone wall lined with cedar trees, the gates opening as the car approached without anyone being called. n in dark suits stood at the entrance. A third stood further back near the main structure, ear piece in. Hand resting at his side, still in the way that only trained stillness looks.

The car stopped.

One of the n opened her door.

She stepped out.

The house was a traditional minka, large and low, dark timber beams running the full length of the facade, a tiled roof curved slightly at the edges. Sliding shoji doors glowed faintly from inside. A stone path ran from the gate to the entrance bordered by moss that had been growing there longer than anyone on the property had been alive. Lanterns sat at intervals along it, low and warm.

"Where is he?" she asked.

One of the n turned and walked. She followed.

Through quiet hallways. Tatami floors. The faint persistent scent of incense already in the air before she reached the room.

She pushed the door open.

He was kneeling before a small Buddha statue in the corner, incense burning in a holder beside it, smoke rising in a thin steady line. Hands pressed together. Eyes closed. His grey hair fell neatly down his back, fully silver now, tied loosely at the base.

Age had settled into him. It hadn’t weakened him.

She stood in the doorway and waited.

A minute passed.

He bowed once toward the statue, remained still for a mont then rose. He turned.

When he saw her he gave a single nod.

Follow .

She followed.

They walked out through a side door onto the engawa, the covered wooden veranda running the length of the garden side of the house. The garden beyond it was dark and shaped, stone and low water and the sound of nothing in particular.

He stopped and turned to face her.

「久しぶりだな.お前は一度も,この老いぼれに会いに来ようとは思わなかったのか...孫娘よ.」

(Hisashiburi da na. Omae wa ichido mo, kono oibore ni ai ni koyou to wa omowanakatta no ka... mago musu yo.)

"It’s been a long ti. Didn’t you ever consider visiting your old man, granddaughter."

She t his gaze.

「お久しぶりです,お祖父様.お元気そうで何よりです.」

(Ohisashiburi desu, ojiisama. Ogenki sou de nani yori desu.)

"It’s been a long ti indeed, grandfather. I hope you’ve been well".

Katsuro Arashigumi.

Her mother’s father. The man her mother had walked away from and never looked back at. Head of the regional syndicate. What most people outside called "Yakuza "

She had only found out he existed six years ago. College. A problem she couldn’t manage alone that had quietly disappeared and then introduced itself afterward. He had never asked for anything in return. That had been more unsettling than if he had.

"Himari," he said, switching to English, his accent sitting underneath it like stone under water.

"I don’t go by that na anymore," she said.

A pause.

"Ah!... Raina. Is it."

"Yes." I said

He laughed. Low and genuine, the laugh of a man who found the world consistently amusing in a way that had nothing to do with happiness.

"So Arican of you. Just like your mother. She raised you in a foreign country and you talk and sound like them." He shook his head. "I was surprised when she nad you Himari. That was my mother’s na. Your great grandmother. The strongest woman I have ever seen. She raised and my brother with almost nothing and still gave us everything."

"I know grandfather," Raina said. "You’ve told that story many tis."

"Have I?" He laughed again. "Forgive this old man for rembering too much."

The garden was quiet between them.

"Why did you call here?" she asked.

He didn’t answer imdiately. He raised one hand and one of the suited n stepped forward from the edge of the veranda, produced an envelope and handed it to him.

Katsuro passed it to her.

She opened it.

Photographs. Several of them. Taken from a distance with a lens that knew exactly what it was doing.

A man.

Her fingers stilled.

She knew his face. Knew it the way you know sothing you have spent a long ti trying to un-know.

"When was this taken?" she asked quietly.

"Four days ago," Katsuro said. "Narita arrivals terminal."

She looked at the photographs again. The tistamp in the corner. The angle of the shot.

"He’s in Japan," she said.

"Yes. And getting closer. Too close."

Sothing pulled tight in her chest.

They had been careful. Thoroughly, exhaustingly so. Every detail accounted for, every thread cut before it could be followed. She had made sure of it personally and she did not make mistakes.

So why was he here.

"Do not worry." Her grandfather’s voice was even. "My people are already on it. We are monitoring him. For now."

She slid the photographs back into the envelope.

The incense sll had followed them out here. Or maybe it was the garden. Or maybe it was just this house, which had always carried the scent of sothing old and quietly serious.

She stood on the engawa beside her grandfather and looked out at the dark shaped garden and said nothing.

For now was not the sa as handled.

She knew that.