Hidden Legacy

Everywhere was chaos. Journalists scurried about, desperate for a headline. The news channel head stormed in, barking, "Any of you useless drones any good? Every channel's blaring the Hiroto Anzai mystery, and you're still scrambling for an exclusive!"

"Headline?" the employees stammered.

"Yes, the secret of Hiroto Anzai!" he boomed.

"Secret?"

A voice rose from the back, a hand shooting up. "I'll cover it!" Fumiko declared.

"Fumiko?" The head raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, sir," she affirmed, her jaw set. "Give me this story. I'll crack that secret, no matter what."

"One chance," the head conceded. "Fail, and..."

"I'll accept any punishment without complaint," Fumiko cut him off, her voice firm.

"Hear it first then!" The head's voice was stern. "Fail to unveil the Anzai Group CEO's secret, and your resignation letter lands on my desk before deadline. Crack it, and I'll discuss your promotion with the higher-ups."

"Agreed, sir," Fumiko replied, the head stalking off to his chamber.

Colleague voices buzzed around her. "Fumiko, are you crazy? Stalk CEO Anzai? He's surrounded by bodyguards! For five years, reporters haven't gotten a decent picture, and you aim for his secret?"

"Yeah, it's madness," agreed another. "But what choice do we have? No explosive headline, no future in this dying company. Growth, life, everything hangs in the balance. I guess the risk is worth taking."

Fumiko rose, grabbing her camera. A flicker of doubt crossed her eyes, but she quickly squashed it. "I've already made one big mistake," she muttered. "No more."

"Where are you off to?" her colleagues called.

A hint of a defiant smile played on her lips. "To meet the secret hidden behind Hiroto Anzai," she said, exiting the office and hopping on her scooter.

As she sped towards the Anzai Group building, her phone buzzed. She pulled over, answering the call. "What's wrong? Is Akie okay? Do I need to come back? Is it an emergency?"

"No, no, nothing like that!" the voice on the other end chuckled. "Just asking what Akie likes to eat. It's his birthday tomorrow, and I want to surprise him."

Fumiko sighed, relief washing over her. "He loves your special pancakes," she said, a faint smile returning. "And some strawberry shortcake for dessert."

"Got it! Thanks, Fumiko," the voice chirped. "See you later!"

Fumiko hung up, a warmth blooming in her chest. The year-end tradition of celebrating Akie's arrival always brought back vivid memories of that first night, the shock and joy of feeling him inside her. He wasn't a burden, despite the challenges; he learned independence while she chased her dreams as a journalist. Yet, that elusive promotion continued to evade her.

Determination hardened Fumiko's gaze. "I must uncover the truth," she declared, her voice unwavering. She rode towards Anzai Group, finding a swarm of reporters staked out.

"Event happening?" she inquired, her voice polite yet firm.

A reporter shoved her back, snarling, "Back off! We were here first. Think you're some hotshot reporter, pushing people around?"

Fumiko stood her ground, her eyes narrowing. "I wouldn't push anyone. But public assault has consequences. My camera recorded everything, and this bruised elbow speaks volumes. Human rights, remember?"

The reporter sputtered, cornered.

Fumiko pressed on, her voice steely. "Want to avoid trouble? Tell me how to snag a glimpse of Hiroto Anzai. Or face legal action."

Panic flickered in their eyes. "Okay, okay! The CEO always leaves through the back gate. Our team's waiting there. I'm just distracting the crowd."

"Thank you," Fumiko said, heading towards the back gate with renewed purpose. There, two reporters were setting up camp. With a swift kick, she disrupted their preparations.

"What the hell?!" one roared.

"Interrupting your news-hunt," Fumiko replied coolly.

Another sneered, "Another monkey after Anzai's secret?"

Fumiko smirked. "I wouldn't call myself a monkey. You, however..."

The reporters lunged, but Fumiko's agility proved formidable. "Size isn't everything," she taunted, darting past them like a nimble. 

As they fumbled, she noticed the open back gate, unguarded. Seizing the chance, she slipped inside and hid behind towering boxes. Disheartened, they retreated, missing the gate swing open as Hiroto Anzai emerged, surrounded by bodyguards.

Hiding, Fumiko's hand instinctively flew to her chest, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. "Is that Anzai? But who's that boy, hand-in-hand with him?" Sapphire eyes...just like mine. An unexpected jolt of familiarity coursed through her, leaving her momentarily paralyzed. 

Suddenly, the bodyguards spotted her. "Who are you? How did you get in?" they barked.

Fumiko stammered, "I'm... Fumiko Suzuki."

"How did you get in? Who let you in? What brings you to the Anzai Group?" the security guards peppered her with questions. 

Fumiko's heart hammered against her ribs. "I... I was looking for... the restroom," she stammered, desperation lacing her voice.

"What reason do you have for trespassing? Excuses won't fly here," a guard growled dismissively.

Fumiko's heart hammered against her ribs. "I... I was hoping to interview Mr. Anzai," she stammered. "I... I had no choice but to sneak in."

One guard scoffed. "Surely you know Mr. Anzai grants interviews to no one."

"Just leave," they barked, forming a human shield around the little boy.

"No! This interview means everything to me. It's... it's my life on the line," Fumiko cried, shoving through the crowd. As she reached Hiroto Anzai, a tremor ran through her, a cold sweat prickling her skin. His eyes, breathtakingly beautiful yet icy blue, sent shivers down her spine.

"Who is this woman? How did she get near my son?" Anzai's voice cut through the air, like frost cracking pavement.

"Son?" Fumiko mumbled, barely audible.

"Didn't I say no one gets close to Haru? Didn't I say no one sees his face?" Anzai's gaze raked over his bodyguards.

"We tried, sir, but she was... forceful. Insisted on interviewing you, no matter what we said."

Anzai's face contorted with fury. "Excuses are worthless. I demanded my son's safety, and you failed." His voice echoed with icy rage. "You're all fired. Effective immediately."

Fumiko, emboldened by desperation, stepped forward. "It was my fault! Please..."

"Your opinion, woman, holds no value to me," he spat, dismissing her with a final, chilling glare.