When the alarm pierced the mansion's silence, Tsurumi Yukichiyo was in her bedroom, leafing through a book on the aesthetics of the tea ceremony.
She set the book down and raised her head, her brows drawing together slightly.
The alarm was brief. It sounded only twice before being cut off, as though someone had forcibly stopped it midway.
Yet the instant those two blasts sounded, something seemed to drain the warmth from the air throughout the mansion, leaving it cold and heavy.
Yukichiyo rose, walked to the window, and pulled back a corner of the curtain.
The stone lanterns in the front courtyard were still lit, and the white sand of the dry landscape garden gleamed a chilly silver beneath the moonlight.
Everything appeared normal, yet she knew something was wrong.
It felt like standing at the edge of deep water. The surface was perfectly still, but she knew something was moving below-and swimming toward her.
Hurried footsteps sounded outside the door.
"Madam, it's me, Number Two."
"And Number Four."
Yukichiyo recognized their voices. She went to the door but did not open it immediately, first checking the surveillance feed through the intercom beside it.
On the screen, Number Two and Number Four stood shoulder to shoulder in the corridor, their expressions tense, hands resting on the weapons at their waists as their eyes kept sweeping both ends of the hallway.
Yukichiyo opened the door.
"I heard the alarm. What happened?"
Number Two looked grim.
She was a lean, capable woman in her early thirties, with neatly cropped hair.
Among the Tsurumi Family's guards, Number Zero was the leader and the most senior.
Numbers One through Four were personal guards trained by the Tsurumi Family, each assigned to one of its four masters.
But now, a fine sheen of sweat