The V-tuber Who Became Obsessed With Me

Raina’s POV

I stood beneath the entrance canopy until Ethan’s car disappeared beyond the estate gates.

Neither of us had spoken much after leaving the sitting room. There hadn’t been any point. Grandfather had denied knowing anything about Jade’s disappearance, Ethan had left with more questions than answers, and I was left with the uncomfortable feeling that somewhere between them, a piece of the truth had gone missing.

The sound of the engine faded into the distance, leaving the estate wrapped in its familiar silence.

When I turned back inside, nothing had changed.

Ayumi was clearing away the tea service with quiet efficiency. Grandfather had already unfolded his newspaper again, as though the confrontation that had taken place only moments earlier had been nothing more than a brief interruption to his morning.

I watched him from the doorway.

Not because I expected him to acknowledge me.

Because I was trying to gather the courage to ask the question I’d spent months avoiding.

Ever since Kuro confronted me at the warehouse, one sentence had refused to leave me alone.

Ask him about your father.

Each new crisis had pushed it aside. Susan , Anna being here and now Jade has disappeared. There had always been something more urgent demanding my attention.

Now there wasn’t.

I glanced toward Anna.

She was standing near one of the windows, looking out across the gardens as though she’d been admiring the view all morning. The moment our eyes met, she understood exactly what I needed.

She always did.

Without a word, she straightened her jacket.

"I’ll make myself scarce," she said lightly.

Our eyes met for only a second before she gave the faintest nod and disappeared toward the kitchen, leaving the two of us alone.

I drew a slow breath.

"Ojii-chan."

He didn’t respond.

I tried again, this time in Japanese.

「おじいちゃん,話さないといけない.」

Ojii-chan, hanasanai to ikenai.

"Grandpa... we need to talk."

The newspaper lowered.

His gaze settled on me with quiet attention.

Whenever I spoke to him in Japanese, he knew immediately that this wasn’t business. This wasn’t about the company or public appearances.

This was family.

He folded the newspaper with deliberate care and placed it beside his teacup before rising to his feet.

「ついておいで.」

Tsuite oide.

"Follow me."

He walked past me without another word.

I fell into step behind him.

We left through the rear entrance, following a narrow stone path that wound between rows of towering pines before opening onto a secluded stretch of coastline.

I’d been here only once before, after everything that happened at the warehouse.

Back then I hadn’t noticed the view.

Today I did.

The afternoon sun scattered across the water in ribbons of gold. Waves rolled gently onto the shore before slipping back into the sea, carrying the hiss of foam across the sand. A cool breeze lifted my hair from my shoulders, bringing with it the sharp scent of salt and the distant cries of gulls circling overhead.

It was peaceful.

The kind of place that seemed untouched by the rest of the world.

Grandfather walked with his hands clasped behind his back, saying nothing until the estate had faded into the distance behind us.

Only then did he stop.

He kept his eyes on the horizon.

「二人きりになったね.さあ,言いたいことを話してごらん.」

Futari kiri ni natta ne. Saa, iitai koto o hanashite goran.

"We’re alone now. Tell me what you wanted to say."

The words I’d rehearsed for weeks refused to come.

I stared at the sea instead, twisting my fingers together before forcing myself to meet his gaze.

"I wanted to ask you..."

My throat tightened.

"...about my father."

For the first time since we’d left the house, he turned to face me.

His expression didn’t change.

"What about him?"

For a while, neither of us spoke.

The waves rolled onto the shore in a slow, steady rhythm, the breeze carrying the scent of salt between us. Grandfather simply waited.

He had always been like that.

He never rushed a conversation or filled silence with unnecessary words. He let people speak when they were ready, knowing that silence often revealed more than questions ever could.

I lowered my eyes to the sand before gathering enough courage to meet his gaze.

"The last time I saw my father was at the AGRESSA ."

His expression remained unchanged.

"You gave him money. You told him to leave, and you promised I’d never have to worry about him again."

I swallowed.

"I believed you. I thought that was the end of it."

The words came more easily now that I’d started.

"But after everything that happened, I tried calling him. His phone was disconnected. I asked around, but no one had seen him."

I searched his face for something—anything—that might tell me I was wrong.

"You don’t lose track of people, Ojii-chan. Not people connected to me. You’ve had someone watching over my life since I was a teenager."

I took a hesitant step toward him.

"So what happened to him?"

He looked out across the ocean before answering.

"I don’t know."

I frowned.

"What do you mean, you don’t know?"

"I don’t know."

His tone never changed, and somehow that made the answer even harder to accept.

"How is that possible?" I asked. "You had people watching him."

A faint smile touched his lips.

"You sound very certain."

"Because I am."

For a moment, only the waves answered.

Then he gave a quiet nod.

"Very well. Let me correct what I said."

He clasped his hands behind his back and looked toward the horizon.

"I do not know what became of your father after a certain point."

A chill settled over me.

"What does that mean?"

"It means I stopped caring."

The words were delivered without bitterness or satisfaction. They were simply facts.

"When your father accepted my money and chose to leave, I gave him one opportunity to disappear with whatever dignity he still possessed."

He paused briefly before continuing.

"After he left Harrington, I contacted every person to whom he owed money."

My breath caught.

"I told them where to find him."

The sound of the sea suddenly seemed louder.

I stared at him.

"You... did what?"

"They were already searching for him."

His voice remained calm.

"I merely saved them the inconvenience."

I felt my stomach knot.

"Ojii-chan..."

The word barely left my lips.

"That was cruel."

He considered the accusation for a moment before shaking his head.

"No."

His eyes drifted back to the water.

"There is an old saying."

He spoke in Japanese, his voice carrying easily above the waves.

「家族を捨てる者は,最後には家族にも世界にも捨てられる.」

Kazoku o suteru mono wa, saigo ni wa kazoku ni mo sekai ni mo suterareru.

"He who abandons his family is, in the end, abandoned by both his family and the world."

There was no anger in his voice.

No attempt to defend himself.

He spoke as though he were reciting something as inevitable as the tide before us.

"Your father abandoned my daughter."

Then his eyes found mine.

"He abandoned you."

"He gambled away every opportunity life gave him and mistook forgiveness for weakness."

A quiet breath escaped him.

"I simply ensured that his past caught up with him."

I wanted to argue.

I wanted to tell him he was wrong.

But every memory that surfaced betrayed me.

The unpaid debts.

The drinking.

The gambling.

The threats , all the money I had sent to him .

I hated admitting it, even to myself.

Not because Grandfather was right.

Because he wasn’t entirely wrong.

"But..." I said at last, my voice barely above a whisper.

"He’s still my father."

Something softened in Grandfather’s expression.

Only for a moment.

"Himari."He waited until I looked at him again.

"Blood may make a man your father."

His voice was quiet, but every word carried its own weight.

"But it isn’t what makes him family."

The words settled heavily in my chest.

I looked away, blinking against the sting in my eyes before he could notice it.

The sea continued its endless rhythm, as though the conversation meant nothing to it.

After a long silence, I found my voice again.

"Can you find him?"

Grandfather didn’t answer immediately.

"I don’t mean bring him back," I said quickly. "I just want to know if he’s alive."

He closed his eyes for a brief moment.

When he opened them again, I already knew what he was going to say.

"No."

I stared at him.

"You can’t..."

"I will not."

"Why?"

"Because I have spent too many years removing poisonous people from your life."

His tone never hardened.

"I will not be the one to invite one back into it."

He looked at me with the same calm certainty he had carried throughout our conversation.

"He is no longer my concern."

Then, more gently,

"He should no longer be yours."

I lowered my eyes.

I had expected this answer before I asked the question, yet hearing it spoken aloud hurt in a way I hadn’t prepared myself for.

Grandfather allowed the silence to settle between us before speaking again.

"Was that everything?"

I remained still.

No.

It wasn’t.

There was one question left.

The one I’d spent even longer avoiding.

Slowly, I lifted my head.

to be continued .