katamarinka .✦ ݁˖

The morning of your first day he would either walk you or drive you as far as you wanted - he would be cognizant of not making you feel embarrassed or self conscious at school, definitely not one to make a scene, especially when it involved you. Before you left, he would give your hand a little squeeze and smile telling you, take it one step at a time, i’ll be here when you get done.

─ ⊹ Mitsuya

Mitsuya is truly the greenest flag to me. He’s so emotionally intelligent and would always calm you down and build your confidence back up.

He would immediately sense something bothering you and ask you to tell him about it. Listening intently to everything you said, brushing the hair out of your face gently. 

If you got overwhelmed and began crying he would wipe away your tears and pull you into a hug not saying anything until you got it out of your system. He’d rub your back, hold you close and let you sit there for as long as you needed.

Once you were ready to talk about it, he would try to reframe your worries into a different perspective, showing you how there’s nothing wrong with being nervous, anyone who wouldn't be nervous in this situation would be the weird one. 

Mitsuya genuinely want to know every little thing bothering you, not so he could pretend to fix everything but to help you overcome your anxieties or at the very least, lessen the amount of stress they had on you. If you were nervous to strike up a conversation, he would let you practice with him. If you were anxious about getting lost he would somehow find or draw a map of the school and show you where to go. If you were worried about people judging you he would remind you that new people were always going to get more attention but that doesn’t necessarily mean they’re judging you. 

He would encourage you to try to stay positive and remind you of all the accomplishments you achieved on your own merit without him - every hard thing you got through, every moment where you were scared but kept going and it turned out fine. He wanted you to remember who you were, and feel confident in your abilities.

The morning of your first day, he would show up at your house to walk you / take you to school. Bringing a small accessory with him (a headband that matched your uniform, a little charm for your bag, cute socks in your favorite color) basically anything little that could remind you that he’s there with you even when he physically can’t be. 

Holding out his hand for you to take as you headed out and when you worry about him being late he just waves it off like I handled it, don’t start stressing about me too squeezing your hand and smiling lightly at you

The moment you disappeared into the building He would text you once telling you to have a great day, text me later what you want for dinner and we’ll celebrate tonight ♡

─ ⊹ Shinichiro

a/n - i never really think about Shinichiro but after writing this I feel like i’ve overlooked him for far too long. *adds shinichiro to my list of fictional boyfriends*

Shinichiro would be so endearing - he knows so much about feeling awkward and not quite fitting in but he also knows everyone has their own agenda and aren’t going to remember every little thing someone else does

He would be so goofy and I mean that in the sweetest possible way, he would honestly probably be a little nervous himself, wanting to make sure he was able to comfort you properly. 

He’d let you vent, tell him everything that’s bothering you, listening with a serious yet soft look on his face before sharing some mortifyingly embarrassing story about himself to try to break the tension, pulling a smile and laugh out of you. 

He would do anything he could to make sure you felt seen, letting you know he’s probably failed at every single thing you’re nervous about and look, he ended up mostly fine - but he seriously would try to show you that it’s ok if you mess up, no one’s perfect. One awkward moment or weird first impression doesn’t define you. As cliche as it is, we are our own worst critic and things you think made you painfully awkward didn’t even get noticed by anyone else.

However, he would still remind you of all of your accomplishments and tell you how proud he was of you. He might get a little carried away listing all the things he loves about you before realizing he’s rambling.

Once you feel a little better he would try to make the night a little more memorable for you, watching your favorite movie with you, maybe going somewhere you love, grabbing your favorite food, or just driving around getting your mind off of everything. Making sure you had happy memories fresh in your mind before your first day.

He would absolutely walk with you you to school, showing up at your house with lunch he made for you - he even popped a note into the lunchbag, just yapping about how much he adores you, how strong you are, how no matter what you do you could never possibly be as much of a mess that he was. The note would be filled with little doodles, maybe some lame jokes but you can tell he put so much time and effort into it.

Before you finally walked inside he would give you the warmest, most sincere smile and tell you to just be yourself, it’s the best version anyways. 

He would check in multiple times throughout the day, he can’t help himself. Texting you randomly throughout the day with little words of affirmation, silly memes, dumb selfies with Waka, anything to pull a smile from you and make you feel more at ease.

─ ⊹ Chifuyu

⊹Bonus⊹ because i can never refuse Chifuyu. Oh Chifuyu, you precious little sweetheart. This is his moment to be the Shojo boyfriend of your dreams (and his).

He doesn’t immediately notice something is bothering you but the moment he realizes you were quieter than usual, he would set down whatever manga he was reading or pause whatever he was doing so he could give you his full attention.

He was a little nervous at first, thinking you were upset at something he did, he absolutely hates seeing you upset so he’s antsy to rectify the situation.

If you were quiet, he’d sit closer, scooting over to you, ducking his head a littl to catch your eyes. He would be ready to listen, ready to hold your hand or be a shoulder to cry on if you needed one.

Once he knew what was upsetting you, he would be your biggest hype man. Rambling on and on about how you’re going to be fine! You’re cute, you have an amazing personality, you’re not weird in a bad way– wait i mean you’re not weird, you’re normal but not normal in a bad way–oh my goddd. 

Poor boy would panic trying to say the perfect thing only to stumble over his words thinking he was making it worse, leaving you laughing at how sincere he was and how hard he was trying to cheer you up.

Making you laugh is where he succeeds, he knows if he can get you to laugh at least once, he’s alleviated a fraction of your stress - but after the laughter, he gets sincere, looking you in your eyes making sure you truly knew how he sees you.

He would want to walk you to school, holding your hand the whole way, catching you up on the latest chapter of his favorite manga - really trying to keep your mind off of your nerves and keep your attention on anything else.

Okinawa was the closest thing the brothers had to a second home outside of Roppongi. Whenever they could disappear, they disappeared there. Ran had connections, knew someone with an obscene house that sat on a beach that was private enough that they could go days without seeing other life on the island.

The moment they got there it was like the world outside of the island ceased to exist. Vacation mode on, Ran lulled to sleep by the sound of crashing waves, her soaking up every ray of sunlight the world had to offer, Rin catching every wave he could, letting the salt water wash away his anxieties.

It was the most free Rin had felt in years.

He had gone into the water to clear his head and came out feeling refreshed, the sun already drying his shoulders by the time he reached the shore. He stood at the water's edge, shaking the excess water out of his hair, watching her stretched out on the beach exactly where he left her.

Five days in the Okinawa sun had deepened the color of her skin, leaving lighter strips where her bikini straps had been. He noticed them the day before and couldn’t stop thinking about them, something about the contrast on her skin had been driving him quietly insane.

He crouched beside her, trailing his fingers up the back of her thigh, going up over the curve of her ass, lightly dancing up her spine, before pressing a kiss into her shoulder. 

“Having a nice nap?” he murmured against her skin.

She turned her head, eyeing him suspiciously, “What are you up to now?”

“Nothing.” He kissed her neck. “You’ve gotten so tan.”

She dropped her face back into her arms. “I’m busy relaxing, go back in the water.”

He trailed his fingers along the strap across her back, hooking his finger under, pulling it taut and letting it snap back against her skin.

“Rin!” She twisted to look at him, half laughing half annoyed, “What was that for?”

“No reason.” he was already untying the bow on her back, undoing it slowly while she tried to swat him away.

He flipped her over once he managed to get it undone, got her legs around his hips, trapping her underneath him while she fought to stifle her laughter, blinking up at him in the sun. 

He was still wet, hair dripping onto her warm skin.

She wrinkled her nose. “Rin, you’re getting me wet–”

“God, I hope so.” he smirked.

She stared at him, then rolled her eyes, “What is wrong with you.”

He was already reaching up to push her bikini top aside. Uncovering the tan lines on her chest. The untouched skin meeting the warm afternoon light and something in him completely short circuited.

He groaned somewhat helplessly at the sight and heard her laugh under him.

“Rin–”

He ran his thumbs over her slowly, felt her nipples harden under his touch, the laughter dying in her throat as her breath caught and stuttered.

“God Rin, we’re outside–”

He bent down and licked across her nipple and she gasped hard.

“Oh my god, Rin–” she squirmed beneath his hold.

“Shhh.” He kissed across to the other side slowly. “Ran’s asleep.”

She tried to protest until he grazed his teeth over her forcing her to swallow the noise trying to escape her.

He kissed down her chest, her stomach, taking his time, the salt on her skin against his tongue, her stomach rising and falling faster under his mouth, breath getting shorter every second that passed. 

He reached the waistband of her bikini bottoms and dipped his fingers under, pulling the fabric down enough to reveal the little pale patch of skin just below her tanned stomach,and pressed his lips there.

“Your tan lines drive me insane,” he said in between kisses.

He let his hand drift lower, over the fabric, fingers dancing lightly over her through the thin material.

“Rin.” Her voice was unsteady now, “what if someone sees.”

He kept his gaze locked onto her as he slid his thumb under the side of the fabric, pressing a slow circle directly against her. Her breath completely left her.

“No one will.” He cooed, keeping the pressure there, watching her try to keep still and quiet. “It’s a private beach and besides…we can be quick.” He grinned down at her.

She let out a small breathy laugh, her hips shifting against his hand wanting more. He moved his hand to pull her bottoms to the side, feeling just how worked up he’d already gotten her. He pushed his shorts down enough to free himself, stroking himself slowly while looking at her - spread out in front of him, bronzed and trembling slightly.

He rubbed against her slowly, until neither of them could stand it anymore, finally pressing into her.

“God,” she breathed and tipped her head back on the towel.

“Shhh.” He was smiling, held himself there watching her face, completely unbothered by how badly she was already squirming. “You’re gonna get us caught if you keep doing that”

She squinted at him ready to make a snarky remark but choked on her words as he pushed all the way into her at the same moment. Her back arched immediately, a sound escaping her she couldn’t catch in time.

“You’re such a di– ahhh–”

He pulled almost all the way out and snapped his hips back into her, watching her face contort, her words dissolving into mewls. “Sorry what was that, sweetheart?” He smirked and huffed a laugh, entirely too pleased with himself.

He stilled for just a moment, taking in the sight, dropping his head to her ear. “You have no idea,” he said quietly, “how fucking sexy you look right now.” He pulled back and drove his hips hard into her again, feeling her gasping on his neck. 

She clenched around him and he had to stop speaking for a second, letting out a rough exhale. “Fuck, baby.” The sun on his back, the breeze cooling the water on his skin, her under him looking at him like that, it was almost too much.

He gripped her hip harder, pace quickening. She pulled him closer, one hand twisted in his damp hair, the other gripping his arm hard enough to leave marks, small helpless noises escaping her every time his hips moved against hers.

He could feel her getting close - her breathing was shallower, grip tightening in his hair. He trailed one hand down between their bodies, fingers finding her again and began pressing slow, steady patterns into her.

“Jesus, Rin–” her hips bucked under him.

She had nowhere to go. His weight holding her down while his hand never letting up. The desperate sounds she was making, the sight of her face, it all nearly undid him right there.

“Rin–” her voice cracked. “Rin rin rin please–”

He didn’t let up, “Come for me, baby”

Her back arched up hard, chest pressing into his, her whole body tightening as her orgasm tore through her, clenching around him so hard and suddenly that he lost the last thread of control he was holding onto.

He came with her, a groan tearing out of him as he buried his face into her neck, holding her tight through it - her body still trembling under his - until neither of them could move.

He slipped out of her slowly, glanced down between them and couldn’t help but laugh.

“What?” she asked, chest still heaving.

He was grinning, breathless, looking at the state of her. “I made a mess of you, again.”

She groaned and put her arm over her face, blocking out him and the sun, he laughed again leaning down to pepper kisses on her while she tried to not smile.

He pulled his shorts back up, then before she could fully process what was happening, he scooped her up and threw her over his shoulder.

“Rin– oh my god, Rin, no–”

“Cleanup time.”

“No Rin, it’s so cold–”

He carried her down to the water, laughing the whole way, her shrieking and kicking, failing to free herself before he jumped into the water.

She came up gasping, soaked, swatting at him. He caught both her wrists, still laughing and pulled her against him, kissing her.

“You’re so annoying,” she said, teasing.

“What can I say, you drive me wild.” He pushed her wet hair back from her face, thumb brushing her cheek, kissing her again. He pulled back, his voice losing all trace of teasing and held her face in both hands, “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy in my life.”

cw: sexual content

sorry this is a long chapter ~8.5k words

She had given up trying to concentrate around twenty minutes ago.

Rindou was in the chair across from her desk with papers spread between them, actually trying to work through some issues that had been sitting in her inbox for a few days. His pen moved quickly through the details, working like someone who wanted this resolved so he could leave.

Sanzu was also there. 

He had materialized sometime after Rin for reasons nobody had established and was currently in the chair beside him with his feet kicked up on the edge of her desk without care. shuffling a deck of playing cards loudly enough to qualify as psychological warfare.

She was trying to focus on the reports spread across her desk when Sanzu extended a fanned deck toward her and she unfortunately made the mistake of glancing at it.

Sanzu grinned, “Pick a card, my dear.”

“Haru, we’re trying to wo–”

“-Awww, it will only take two seconds.”

“No.”

“You guys truly lead boring lives.” He collapsed the fan of cards into a neat deck and began shuffling them, moving onto a new topic barely skipping a beat.“Okay soooo hypothetically.”

“-We’re actually trying to work.” Rin didn’t look up from the papers. “I truly don’t have the capacity nor patience for your bullshit right now.”

“Rindou, Rindou, Rinnn-dou, I’m trying to create a GOOD culture in this office, you’re stifling my team building exercises, you didn’t even let me finish–”

“I don’t need to hear the end to know it’s stupid.” He turned a page. “Can we please just finish this.”

“We’re almost done,” she said, pulling another report toward her. “We just need to get through this–”

“As i was saying, hypothetically-”

Rin slammed his pen down, “Is there a fucking brain missing in your skull?” he said, finally looking at him. “Did you not just hear me speak?”

The door opened and Ran appeared. He stepped inside, pausing long enough to take in the scene – Rin one more inconvenience away from homicide, Sanzu flourishing cards in his hand like a manic, casino dealer and her caught somewhere in the middle of it all.

“Why are you both always in here?” he asked.

“Why are you in here?” Sanzu shot back immediately, “You have no business purpose for your appearance. Be gone.”

Ran ignored him entirely and moved around the desk to come to her side. 

The atmosphere changed subtly the moment he got closer. It was a shift that only registered to her, noticing the warmth of him, the faint scent of his cologne, the eyes she didn’t dare meet but could feel tracking her every move.

Across from her Rin picked up his pen with the exhausted resolve of a man choosing productivity over violence.

“Okay.” Rin said, to only her, tapping a finger on one of the reports. “This last quarter–”

Sanzu rifled through his cards making them disappear one at a time, then held up Rin's lighter between two fingers, turning it over amused.

Rin looked up and rolled his eyes in annoyance, “Can you stop stealing my shit?”

Rin and Sanzu spiraled into incessant bickering she already lost the thread of. Resigned, she looked back down at the report, trying to pick up where Rin had left off. She was trying hard to concentrate but everything in the room was working against her.

“Focus.” she muttered under her breath.

Ran heard it and immediately leaned one arm along the back of her chair. “Need some help?” he murmured quietly next to her.

That alone nearly shattered what remaining concentration she had left.

She felt him reach past her for one of the papers on the desk, the sleeve of his jacket brushing her arm in the process. “You seem a bit distracted,” he said softly.

Across the desk, Sanzu and Rin were still bickering, she caught a fragment of their conversation, Sanzu asking Rin if he was suddenly a penguin expert and she could barely process any of it anymore.

The sound of cards shuffling. Sanzu spiraling through nonsense like a tab on her computer blaring sound she couldn’t locate. Rin desperately trying to steer everyone toward productivity, Ran’s velvety voice seeping deep into her skin.

His fingers finding her arm. Curling lightly around her elbow, sliding ever so slowly down the outside of her forearm, tracing the length of it - elbow to wrist - until his hand met hers where she held the report. Such a light touch, barely any contact at all, yet she felt this touch surge through every nerve ending in her body.

The entire room felt overstimulating, it was honestly making her head feel underwater.

“Maybe I should take a look,” he whispered, close enough that only she would hear. “You look like you could use some help.”

He lifted the paper from her fingers slowly. She was aware of everyone in the room, of the report she could no longer focus on, of the heat creeping into her cheeks that she had no control over.

The worst part was she could feel Ran notice all of it. Could feel him noticing the small hitch in her breath, every second her attention drifted away from the files and back toward his touch.

He leaned in slightly closer, “You know,” he whispered, “you look awfully cute when you lose your concentration.”

She opened her mouth–

“If you had to–” Sanzu interrupted without warning, the cards going still in his hands for the first time all afternoon, making a slow, deliberate jerking off gesture without an ounce of shame, "--finish in front of everyone in this room, to save my life of course, would you do it.”

The room went dead silent.

Ran straightened. She turned. Rin looked up from the papers.

All three of them staring at Sanzu, trying to process something that had no reasonable response.

Sanzu looked back at them, unbothered, waiting for their answer.

“Not a single day goes by,” Ran said finally, “where i don’t question whether you’re a real human or just a rage bait simulation.”

“In what world.” Rin’s voice came out controlled but it was raising incrementally. He set his pen down carefully. “What kind of people are you involved with where that is ever a condition? What scenario– what actual, real, existing scenario on this fucking planet – results in THAT being the solution. What is wrong with you? Genuinely, there is something fundamentally wrong with you.”

Sanzu turned to him with a serious look, “Rindou, my life is on the line–”

Rin’s hand shot out and snatched the deck out of Sanzu’s grasp and flung them hard. Cards exploded across the office in every direction, scattered across the floor, the desk. “You want a fucking game?” Rin said, his voice eerily even. “There. Fifty two card pickup, enjoy.”

The room went dead silent.

“Bro.” Sanzu stared at the carnage, then at Rin, genuinely taken aback for the first time all afternoon. “What the fuck. Chill out.”

Rin said nothing, just breathed deeply through his nose and tried to resume his work.

Sanzu looked around at the cards on the floor, pressed his lips together and reached into the inside of his jacket producing another deck of cards.

It took everything in her to not hysterically laugh at how the situation was unfolding.

Rin threw his hands up, “Oh my god, am i in the fucking twilight zone?” He pushed his chair back from the desk and left without another word.

Ran said nothing. Just looked at Sanzu with an expression that said more than any words could.

She had her head in her hands, shoulders shaking, fighting for her life to not make a single sound.

Ran looked at her, then at Sanzu, then back at her with an expression of both fondness and annoyance.

“You know,” he said quietly, “everytime you laugh he thinks he's won.”

She shook her head still not trusting herself to speak.

“You’re feeding him,” he said. “He’s like a pavlovian dog. Rin loses his temper or you crack and he knows he’s won and he’ll just keep going.” He looked at her, eyebrows raised. “You’re the problem.”

She pressed her lips together but failed and a laugh escaped her, prompting Sanzu to immediately turn to her with bright eyes. “Okay sooooo–”

Ran looked at her, “Case in point.”

She buried her face back into her hands before anything else could betray her.

She was never going to get any work done again. She had fully accepted this.

Working alongside Ran in the early weeks had been exhausting but somehow manageable - it was still electric and uncertain but both of them still had a hard line of professionalism between them. But this? Oh, this was so different. This was him knowing exactly what he did to her and enjoying every second of it. Anytime he managed to pull her into his orbit he took full advantage of it.

He stole a kiss from her in an empty hallway on a random Tuesday afternoon.

She had been walking back from a meeting, a bit in her own head - wheels still turning in her mind of the new puzzle that needed solving - when he appeared beside her mid stride. Without breaking pace, without even fully turning toward her, just caught her chin with one finger and tipped her face up to his to kiss her. Quick, barely there, over and gone before she registered what just happened.

He put his hands in his pockets and kept walking. “Did you and Rin figure out that little discrepancy from the other day?”

She stared at him.

He clicked his tongue. “Tsk tsk. Honestly. The lack of focus in this organization is becoming a real problem.” He shook his head like this genuinely troubled him. Then glanced back at her over his shoulder with a grin that was nothing short of devilish before disappearing down the corridor.

She came back to her office another afternoon to find her favorite tea sitting on her desk. A sticky note stuck to the side with his handwriting.

Thought you might like this ;)

She stood there for a moment feeling silly over how giddy this little surprise made her feel, biting the inside of her cheek to try not to smile. She peeled the sticky note off carefully, looking at it for a second longer before folding it and tucking it into her notebook. Setting it back down on her desk like nothing had happened.

There were other things he did that caught her off guard.

She once was talking to a few lower level associates and out of nowhere, they stopped. Stopped talking mid sentence, looking distracted by something over her shoulder, suddenly remembering they were late for an urgent meeting. It was bizarre to say the least.

She turned to look over her shoulder only to find nothing, just an empty hallway. Weird. 

“Your situational awareness,” Ran said, from approximately three feet to her other side, “is genuinely concerning.”

She jumped and turned to see him leaning against the wall, watching her with immense amusement. 

“You gotta stop doing that.” She put her hand over her chest, “You’re always sneaking up on me. You’re literally the only person who can actually startle me.” She looked at him. “How long have you been standing there?”

He considered his answer, “A while.”

“Did they just– did they scurry off because you were creeping in the hallway behind me?”

He shrugged, looking completely unbothered.

Before she could say anything else he closed the distance between them, “Where ya headed?”

She squinted at him. “My office.”

“Hmm,” his smirk appeared again, “what a coincidence, me too.”

He was going to be the absolute death of her. But she stopped minding.

She hadn’t heard him coming, she never did anymore. It was honestly dangerous how he was somehow able to completely disarm her. How little warning her body gave when he was close.

His arms came around her from behind before she processed how. Both of them, wrapping around her waist, pulling her back against him – the warmth of his body, his scent enveloping her, ambushing her senses before she could even do anything about it.

His face dropped into her hair. “Finally,” he said softly, “I get you to myself.”

She laughed, slightly startled, hands going to his wrists. “Ran– we haven't even been back for 5 minutes, I haven't even had a chance to–”

“Ohh, too bad,” his grip didn’t loosen. “Now you’re not going anywhere.” He pressed closer, breathing her in. “You always smell so incredible.”

“Mhm, sweet compliment, Cassanova.” She pulled at his hands, “Now, are you going to let me go?”

He dragged her back a step, pulling her along like she was weightless, “Nope. I don’t think so. I just got you.”

“God, you truly are insufferable.” She laughed, giving away a flicker of her amusement.

“Ohh yeah?” His lips brushed just behind her ear and her breath escaped her before she could stop it. She wanted more but she was absolutely not going to tell him that. “You don’t sound too inconvenienced.”

She had no defence against him. None. One light touch and her breath was already gone, her body already responding to him before she could register his actions. It was deeply unfair and she was running out of ways to be annoyed about it.

“You’re a little too sure of yourself, Haitani.” she managed, just. Her words coming out weaker and softer than she intended. 

He turned her quickly and suddenly she was facing him - hands at his chest, his at her waist - and a second later her back met that ridiculously comfortable couch of his. He followed her, his knees on either side of her legs, one hand braced beside her head, the other still holding onto her waist. Hovering over her with no intention of going anywhere.

She stared up at him. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Oh?” He pressed a slow kiss into her lips. The warmth of it surged through her body instantly. Then the corner of her lips, her cheek. Mapping out the planes of her face with agonizingly slow and gentle kisses.

His mouth drifted down to her neck.

She jumped before she could stop it, letting out the smallest yelp, her shoulder coming up instinctively to block the touch.

He paused and lifted his head just enough to look at her, his features clearly amused. “What’s wrong?” he said in mock sympathy.

“Nothing,” she replied, too quickly.

His eyes moved languidly over her face. The small smile, that look, already seeing through her. “Mhmm. Nothing, eh?”

His gaze held her for a moment longer before he drifted back down to the sensitive spot. Only his breath caressed her like a lazy summer breeze.

She felt her body involuntarily shiver at the sensation.

“Ohhh.” he said softly, right against her skin. The vibration of his voice alone was enough to completely undo her. “Ticklish?”

“No–”

His lips barely grazed the spot and she felt like she was going to implode. “Then, you won’t mind if i–”

He pressed his lips to the spot, kissing it lightly, tracing his tongue slowly over her skin.

She couldn’t help but squirm under his touch. His hand pressed down firmly at her waist, holding her exactly where she was while his mouth did whatever it wanted. She could barely compose herself and he knew it. He caught the slight hitch in her breath, the way her hands had stopped actively pushing him away.

“You are ticklish,” he said, against her neck. The vibration of his voice seeping deep into her skin, making her feel like her body was melting under him.

“You’re an ass,” she managed to shoot back.

“I’ve been called worse.” He lifted his head to look at her properly. That smug satisfied expression, completely in control.

She looked back at him, then reached up slowly and caught his tie between her fingers. Pulled him down just enough to bring him closer. 

His eyes dropped to her hand and back to her face, his smug expression changing into something close to surprise. He let her pull him, continued to watch her with a curious, amused look - wanting to see where she was going with this.

She bent her knee slowly, letting her leg brush against the inside of his thigh. He exhaled a short laugh and his breath changed, just barely.

She pulled him closer by the tie until his face was inches from hers. She just looked at him and smiled. “Not so smug now, are you?” she cooed, then let his tie go.

He held her gaze for a moment, amused, like he got pleasure from her getting on his level and pushing him right back. His teeth caught his lower lip briefly before he closed the distance and kissed her.

The kiss was a little different now - less teasing. His hand met her chin tilting her face toward him, the slow press of his lips, so soft at first,  his tongue tracing her lips so gently she felt the sensation spread through her entire body. She parted her lips without even deciding to, with her thoughts slipping away one by one until there was nothing left but the slow yet intense way he kissed her.

Her hands found their way to his hair and he kissed her deeper.

His phone started buzzing somewhere on the coffee table but neither of them moved.

It stopped. Started again immediately. Stopped. 

The phone was irrelevant, someone else's problem, not theirs.

It rang again. And again. And again…

Ran didn’t move. His mouth moved back down to her neck, trailing lower and she tipped her head back, fingers tightening in his hair as his hand slid lower down her body - fingers curving around the back of her thigh, drifting toward the hem of her skirt–

“Jesus Christ, my pure eyes.”

They both jumped at the sound of the voice.

Sanzu was standing in the middle of the living room, like he just materialized out of thin air. He had one hand covering his eyes, fingers spread wide enough that the gesture was purely for dramatics.

She was startled so hard she elbowed Ran in the side of his head.

“Oww– damnit Sanzu what the fuck–”

“Oh my god i’m so sorry– I didn't mean to–” She was scrambling to sit upright. 

“I knocked,” Sanzu said, “Spiritually. Spiritually, I knocked.”

“Why are you in my fucking living room?” Ran asked, very annoyed.

“You wouldn’t answer your phone, what was I, your best bud, to think?” Sanzu finally lowered his hand blocking his eyes, looked between them – her hair a mess, Ran’s shirt half untucked, the general state of things. “I was worried you might be dead… but this…–” he gestured at the scene, “--this is the death of innocence for me. My innocence died here today.” 

Ran stood up, ready to physically remove him from his apartment.

Ran looked at him, “If you don’t tell me why the fuck you’re standing in the middle of my apartment in the next two seconds,” he said firmly, “I’m going to throw you off the balcony.” He tilted his head, “Shorter trip than the elevator.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be here if you’d just answer your phone, you prick.” Sanzu shot back.

Ran smiled at him but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I. Was.” he said deliberately, “A little. Fucking. Busy.”

Sanzu glanced at her, then back at Ran. He straightened, shifting gears to 'dead serious' and dropping the temperature in the room. “We need to handle something. Both of us. Now.”

Sanzu looked back to her momentarily, something in his expression almost apologetic, then with the same serious tone of voice he looked Ran dead in the eyes, sighed, bowed deeply, and said politely “Condolences for cockblocking,” then repeated the movement back to her and repeated. “Condolences for cockblocking.” 

She couldn’t help it and a laugh came spilling out of her.

Something about her laugh always stirred something deep within Ran. He looked at her with a dumb smile on his face.

“Okay, okay.” Sanzu waved a hand, “Stop staring at her like that, it’s getting uncomfortable and I don't appreciate being the third wheel. Let’s go.”

Ran didn’t look away from her. “Give me five minutes.”

“Two,” Sanzu said, already moving to leave. “Hurry the fuck up.”

Ran strolled back over to her, reached out and brushed hair from her face, fingers lingering at her cheek for just a moment. “Don’t wait up,” he teased, the corner of his mouth pulling into a small smirk. “Who knows what this asshole is walking me into.”

He took a moment to adjust and compose himself, grabbed his jacket, shrugged it on and was gone.

She wasn’t waiting up…at least thats what she kept telling herself for the past four hours. She was just on the couch reading, engrossed in the book he bought her, ignoring the fact that every word she read the past hour was meaningless. The only sounds in the apartment were the rain tapping gently on the windows and her thoughts running rampant.

She told herself she wasn’t anxious, but she couldn’t stop herself from checking the clock at least six times within the past hour. Sanzu had dragged Ran away almost five hours ago and she couldn’t stop her mind from imagining all the scenarios they may have been caught in.

She knew what they did, knew roughly, what Ran did. She had sat across from him in meetings where he gave orders that ended badly for whoever was at the end of them. She had heard his voice go flat that meant something irreversible was going to happen. Had seen him come through the door with blood on his hands that wasn’t his and watched him clean it off like it was nothing. Because to him it was nothing.

She had tried to make peace with that or at least tell herself she had. But tonight for the first time she wondered what situation they were in. Wondered what exactly he was capable of, what he was doing in this exact moment, but also felt oddly anxious about if he was ok.

That was new.

She heard the elevator ding before her thoughts could spiral further and was on her feet before she decided to even stand and moved toward wherever he was.

She slowed before she reached the kitchen. He was at the counter with his back half turned, one hand braced against the surface as he rolled his neck slowly, letting out a quiet groan. His tie hung loose at his collar, his hair had fallen into his face and despite pushing it back several times it still remained in his face.

There was no blood, nor any visible damage done to him. He just looked tired and worn down enough that his usual facade quietly slipped off of him.

Relief flooded over her so quickly it almost embarrassed her, she hadn’t known how unsettled she was until just now.

A small paper bag sat open on the counter beside him, he reached in and pulled out a small box, opened it and took a bite of its contents while standing there in the low kitchen light. Watching him stand there in his kitchen at one in the morning eating a little sweet treat to ground himself back into reality after whatever the night had been, should not have been as disarming as it was.

He reached into the bag again and set a second box on the counter. “You can come in here you know,” his eyes met hers immediately.

The heat that rushed to her face was deeply annoying. She leaned against the wall and tried very hard to look like she hadn’t been just standing there watching him quietly.

“I wasn’t hiding.”

“Mhm.” He smirked at her but his face was somehow softer than usual, tired and slightly disheveled handing the little box of treats to her.

She crossed over and took it from him. Their fingers brushing against each other, lingering for longer than necessary. It was barely anything, barely a second yet the feeling just shot through her entire body.

Which was insane, honestly, completely insane, given how he had her pinned under him a few hours ago. And yet somehow this felt exponentially more dangerous than any of that. More intimate, more like something she had no idea how to navigate properly.

She snapped back to reality and took the box quickly from his grasp hopping onto the counter opposite of him. Putting a little bit of distance between those heated touches.

Ran watched her do all of this clumsily and just said nothing. Just leaned back against the counter and looked at her like he had already read all of the thoughts she was desperately trying to hide.

She opened the box and tried to calm her mind, channeling all of her focus on this little dessert.

That he went out of his way to buy… 

That he saw and thought to give her… 

Her mind was never going to stop racing at this point.

She took a bite but didn’t taste anything. Too aware of him without even looking up, knew his gaze was boring through her. It was taking everything in her to pretend to be unaffected, why of all things was this getting to her?

She looked over at the window, the rain, the counter, basically anything that wasn’t meeting that gaze that made her skin heat up. She shifted uncomfortably on the counter, took another bite she didn’t taste. 

After a few minutes she realized she stopped eating and was caught up in her own thoughts. She wasn’t sure when it happened but Ran noticed.

His eyes lifted from the box in her hands to her face and lingered. He pushed off the counter and walked over to her slowly, taking the box lightly from her hands, their fingers brushing again in the exchange and set it aside.

Standing close, finding her eyes in the low light and she could swear he could hear her heart racing.

His eyes narrowed slightly, noting whatever thoughts were being advertised on her face she couldn’t hide.

“What.”

She opened her mouth but nothing came out.

He stepped closer, fully between her knees now, near enough that looking anywhere except directly at him required a conscious effort she was rapidly losing the ability to make.

“Are you ok?” he said, quieter.

She had nothing. Which made no sense. She had been in far more compromising situations with him and had been fine, was able to make a snarky remark and never let him fully dismantle her.

But something about tonight– just felt different. It was different. But she didn’t know why or how or what was making her feel like she was losing her fucking mind. Why he had managed to get completely under her skin tonight.

She felt completely exposed, like he could read her better than she could read herself. Like he knew something she didn’t.

There was no joke, no deflection, nothing she could say that didn’t sound like a lie. Her brain stopped producing sentences and her body stopped pretending she wasn’t completely overwhelmed by his proximity and all she could think was to just touch him until it drowned out everything else.

Her hand came up to him, palm gently grazing his cheek, her thumb brushing slowly along his jaw until she felt him go completely still under her touch.

He looked at her and his hand came up slowly, covering hers where it rested against his face and held it there for a second before drawing it away slightly. Just enough to turn his head and press his lips to the inside of her wrist.

Her breath escaped her so quickly.

He didn’t stop there. His lips moved slowly up the inside of her wrist, her forearm, the inside of her elbow. Inching slowly up her body, with each kiss landing softer and slower than the last. Keeping a pace like he had all the time in the world.

His other hand came to rest on her thigh and her nerves felt like they had been ignited. Her breath was becoming increasingly more uneven and breathless.

He felt it. His mouth paused against her skin with a pleased exhale. Lifting his eyes to hers, all teasing completely gone, just a focused, dark and devastatingly warm look.

“You have no idea,” he said quietly. His gaze dropped briefly to her mouth, then back to her eyes. “What you truly do to me.”

Every thought she had was gone. The way he looked at her, it was like the whole world narrowed and she was the only thing in his existence.

He stepped even closer. One hand braced beside her on the counter, the other hand at her thigh slid higher, snaking around her body to pull her even closer to close any distance of space between their bodies. Her own arms wrapping around his neck.

She could feel the restraint in him, his hands struggling to not move too fast or be too rough. It was beginning to make her dizzy. Every touch felt chosen, measured, dragged out because he wanted to watch what it did to her. 

He groaned quietly into her neck. “There are so many things I want to do to you right now.” His voice was low and rougher than usual, his mouth moving against her throat as he spoke. He pulled back for a moment, eyes finding hers again, bringing his hand up to her face, thumb brushing slowly over her lips. “But I want to savor every part of you.”

God. She felt those words in every part of her body too. She couldn’t take it anymore and pulled him down into her to kiss him.

He exhaled against her mouth the moment their lips met, like he had been waiting for her to do exactly that, give him the green light to do what he promised. His arms sliding tightly around her, holding her closer, kissing her slowly.

She barely registered him gently sliding her off the counter - too focused on his hands and the slow path of his lips against her skin as he walked her backward out of the kitchen. Still kissing her wherever he could reach.

It wasn’t until the backs of her knees met the edge of the bed that she realized how far they had drifted. A soft laugh escaped her.

For once the voice in her head that always had something to say - some joke, some excuse, some stupid reason to avoid situations - had gone completely quiet.

He pulled back just enough to take her in, really look at her. His hair falling into his face, that expression that made her knees feel weak. He sat down on the edge of the bed and drew her toward him until she was standing between his knees, looking up at her with tired eyes.

That look. She felt like he was baring his soul to her through these sleepy eyes.

She didn't understand why every little thing he did tonight felt exponentially more intense.

His hands moved slowly. Starting at her thighs, tracing up over her hips, finding the hem of her shirt and slipping underneath. Just his palms against her bare skin, dragging up her waist, her ribs, her back, each touch barely there and still somehow scorching. He knew exactly how little pressure it took to make her skin feel like it was burning.

She reached for his shirt. 

Fingers finding the buttons, working through them one by one, slower than she meant to be. Her hands were not entirely steady anymore and Ran noticed.

She felt him still beneath her, felt the subtle pause in his breathing as his eyes dropped to her hands. Watching her fumble, seeing how her fingers hesitated against him. 

When she finally looked up his gaze was already locked onto hers.

He had such a focused, dark expression that caught her off guard. His exhaustion still clung to him but beneath it all was something ruinous. Something that made her feel like he saw completely through her. 

She didn’t think she was ever going to get used to seeing him like this.

She unfastened the final button and slowly pushed his shirt off of his shoulders. The fabric sliding down his arms before he shrugged it the rest of the way off. 

Her palms settled against his chest letting her fingers trail over him carefully. Following the dark lines of his tattoo, tracing them with the pads of her fingers - up over his chest, his collarbone - toward the Bonten symbol at his throat.

Ran’s head tipped back, swallowing against her touch. His chest rose against her palms and for a brief moment he closed his eyes. His grip tightened at her hips just enough to remind her - and himself - that he was holding himself back.

The thought made heat pool low in her stomach.

When his eyes opened again, the tiredness was still there, making him look almost soft, but that hunger intensified.

His hands found the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head in one slow movement, knuckles grazing her sides as the fabric was removed. His hands pressed into the small of her back, coaxing her closer until her stomach brushed his mouth. The first kiss he pressed was barely there but it made her breathless. He kissed her again, slower this time, his breath trailing warm over her. She felt her body growing weak under him, slowly unraveling by how carefully he was choosing to wreck her.

His hands slid down, fingers spreading over the backs of her thighs, pulling her into his lap with that same unbearable patience.

His mouth moved over her slowly, too slowly, his tongue dragging light enough to make her breath catch before she could stop it. Back arching into him on instinct, fingers sinking into his hair as a soft sound slipped out of her.

Ran paused just long enough for her to want more and then let out the smallest whisper of a laugh against her skin. Amused, pleased, like he just learned something new about her he intended to use again.

Her nails raked down his back, slower than she meant to, catching over his muscles, over his ink. His breath changed, barely, but she could feel it. Felt the tension radiating through him before his hands slid down to her ass and pulled her hard against him. She felt all of him now, the very obvious evidence of how badly his patience was thinning beneath his lazy control. It should have made her feel powerful how affected he was by her, instead it made her body answer before her mind could, shifting her hips against him in one unconscious movement.

His grip tightened on her for a second and held her close enough that she could feel every bit of restraint he was still choosing to keep.

But then he moved her gently. The softness and careful way he laid her back on the bed made her chest ache for a moment. His mouth trailing down her with infuriating patience, each kiss deliberately placed, each pause deliberately made.

His fingers dipped into her waistband, looking up at her as he drew them down slowly, taking his time with the last bit of clothing standing between them.

The cool air that touched her skin was short lived as Ran’s breath followed a moment later. He was moving so slowly. So carefully. It somehow made her feel even more exposed.

Her breath kept evading her. Staring up at the ceiling, trying to remember how breathing normally actually worked, trying to find some part of herself that wasn’t yielding to his every touch.

His mouth pressed into her inner thigh. She almost flinched from how badly she wanted him closer.

He kissed there again, teeth grazing just enough to make her fingers grasp the sheets a little tighter. He worked his way higher with that same maddening pace, driving her absolutely insane with anticipation. 

He knew exactly what he was doing and moved away once he got close to where she craved. She squeezed her eyes shut. There was no rushing him. She understood with sobering clarity that he was going to get there exactly when he decided to and not one second before.

Her body was already aching for something just out of reach, every nerve ending on fire. She bit down on the sound trying to escape her but it was futile.

“Ran–” his name came out unsteady.

She felt him smile against her thigh. She could have screamed.

His hands slid beneath her, arms hooking around her thighs drawing her closer. Pressing her legs open exactly where he wanted, it felt gentle but she knew there was nothing gentle about what he was about to do.

Ran just looked up at her with that intense focus and his signature smirk.

His tongue met her with one slow, deliberate stroke. Her hips jerked immediately making a helpless sound that she couldn’t even suppress. Ran groaned against her in response, her reaction clearly affecting him too. Every reaction she had was clearly undoing some of the remainder of his control.

God. She felt it everywhere. Whatever shred of her composure that was left was quickly dissolving under his touch.

Ran moved like he had all the time in the world, ruinously attentive, learning her body by every breath she lost, every shiver, every broken sound. When his eyes lifted to hers she truly almost forgot how to breathe.

He was watching everything. Not just dismantling her but studying the way it happened. The way her pleasure moved through her face before she could hide it, how her lips parted, the way she tried to hold onto some last piece of dignity when he clearly wanted to see the exact moment it left her. All he wanted to do was make her fall apart.

His gaze was too much. Too intimate. Too consuming on top of everything happening. She couldn’t bear to hold it, head falling back against the bed, voice breaking in her throat.

Everytime his name slipped out, his grip tightened. Everytime her breath hitched, he adjusted his pace or pressure, like her body was giving him instructions and he was listening to every single one.

“Ran–” Her voice broke again, “Please–”

The sound he made in response was lower this time, arms tightening around her thighs as he held her exactly where he wanted her. Moving with intense focus without a shred of teasing or edging.

The tension inside of her pulled tighter and tighter, coiling deep until it felt almost unbearable. She tried to move toward him, helplessly chasing what he had been keeping just out of her reach. But his arms stayed firm around her, keeping her there, making her take every second of it.

Tears pricked at her eyes from the intensity. From the way she couldn’t hide from him, how determined he was to know every sound she made, every place her body gave into him. It was too much and too little and exactly what she had been needing.

The tension finally snapped. Her whole body tightening in long shuddering waves. His name on her lips, fingers gripping the sheets hard. Ran didn’t stop, staying with her through every last tremor, drawing it out of her until she had nothing left to give but ragged breaths.

She could barely move. Flushed, breathless, teary eyed, completely undone beneath him. He stared down at her and for the first time in the entire night she saw his composure completely fall.

His hand slid slowly along her thigh, his thumb brushing over her skin with absentminded tenderness.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said quietly.

He stood as she watched him through heavy eyes. His hands unbuckling his belt slowly, gaze never leaving hers. Not once. Like looking away from her was not something he was willing to do. The belt slipped free, his clothing followed, piece by piece, until there was nothing left for him to hide behind.

She took the moment to finally see him. All of him for the first time. 

Her mouth parted before she could stop it.

The full extent of his tattoos on display. Intricate lines curling and disappearing over the contours of him. Her eyes traced them helplessly, every inch she took in stole even more of her breath. Her mouth went completely dry. There was no coherent thought available to her. 

Only him. His black ink, his disheveled hair, his dark eyes that fixed on her so intensely. He didn’t shy away at letting her see him completely.

She felt overwhelmed by the reality of the moment, by the absurdity of him existing this close to her, looking like something she had no business touching. Something expensive and dangerous and unreal. Something designed with exquisite cruelty to ruin what was left of her composure.

She was still trembling, still damp eyed and breathless from his doing. And somehow she had to survive this too.

She didn’t understand how she was the one he was looking at like that. Didn’t understand how any of this was real.

Ran smiled, just barely. Just enough to tell her he had seen every thought that crossed her face.

He looked pleased with himself in the laziest, most insufferable way. He lowered himself back onto the bed between her legs, one hand braced beside her, hair falling forward as he leaned over her. Gaze moving over her features with slow attention.

She couldn’t read his expression. The hunger still lingered, but it felt like his was holding himself together through sheer will.

His hand came up and brushed her hair from her cheek. Eyes moving over her face, searching for something in her features. He leaned down and kissed her, so softly.

Her hands found his shoulders, wrapping around him, fingers spreading over his warm skin. The slow drag of him against her made her breath catch but the kiss kept her there.

When he pulled back, his forehead hovered close to hers. His breath was uneven now. 

“Tell me what you want.” 

Her face went hot. “Ran–”

“Say it.” His voice was rough, almost undone beneath it. “I need to hear you say it.”

This broke through the last bit of her embarrassment. The need under his command.

Her fingers tightened against his back. “I want you, Ran.” she whispered, “God–i just…i just want you.”

He kissed her again, harder this time. Pushing into her slowly, filling her inch by inch, hand sliding to her hip, holding her steady beneath him. Watching her, watching every second of this, moving slowly enough to make sure she felt every part of him.

Everything in her was set ablaze. The sound that left her was helpless, torn from her body. Her hands tightening against him, nails pressing into his skin as he pushed further into her.

He stilled for a moment. Long enough for her to feel the strain in him. The restraint, the way his body was holding it together by the thinnest of threads, before moving again. Slowly. Deeply.

The rhythm he set was devastating, every movement was enough to make the room blur, the slow drag of him made it impossible to think past the next stroke. Her legs wrapped around him, drawing him closer, as if there were any possible way to make the space between them to disappear completely.

His mouth found her throat, the rough graze of his stubble against her sensitive skin sent a sharp current through her. It was impossible to not feel everything all at once. Every point of contact. His breath at her neck, his fingers flexing at her hip, the slow slide of his body against hers.

She had never seen him like this. Not once. Not even close.

Dark and unraveling, and focused solely on her. Only her.

The thought nearly undid her by itself.

He’s stunning, she thought helplessly. So unfairly, handsome and he is looking at me like this and i feel like i am never going to survive this.

His hips pushed deeper into her and her breath broke around a moan.

“That’s it, baby.” His voice was rought at her neck, “Just like that, dont’ stop.”

She said his name and he groaned against her neck, his grip tightening, his control slipping another dangerous inch.

“I’ve thought about this,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “Too much.”

A rough exhale left him, almost like a laugh but there was no humor in it. “Everytime i walk into a room with you,” His voice dropped lower, darker. “Everytime you sat across from me pretending you didn’t know what you do to me.”

Her breath hitched. “Ran–”

“I couldn’t even look at the pool table after that night.” His jaw tightened, “Your office was worse. Sitting next to you like i wasn’t thinking about everything i wanted to do to you in there.”

Jesus Christ.

She felt herself clench around him before she could stop it. The low laugh that left him was ruined, like even his own amusement was falling apart.

“Oh,” he murmured, “You like hearing that.”

She did. God she did. 

The realization should have embarrassed her but she didn’t care anymore. It was meaningless compared to the way his velvety voice moved through her.

“Ran– Please, please keep going.”

He slowed. Just slowing the pace momentarily as he lifted his face to look at her. Eyes searching her face in almost disbelief.

“Yeah,” his mouth moved to her ear, “You want to hear what you do to me?”

“Yes,” Her answer came too quickly but she didn’t care at this point. “Please.”

The sound he made against her made her eyes roll back.

“Everytime you walk past me,” his mouth dragging down her neck, “Every single time.” He pressed his lips softly there. Too softly. It was infuriating.

“I sat in meetings with you thinking about this.” His hips snapped harder, voice  raw, no ounce of polish or composure remaining. “Thinking about getting everyone out of the room. Thinking about how quickly I could make you moan my name like that. Letting everyone hear what I do to you”

“Fuck, Ran–” The words broke out of her, “Please, please don’t stop.”

Her arms were still around his neck when his hand found her wrist, drawing one of her hands away from him, bringing it down beside her face. Pressing her hand into the sheets before lacing his fingers through hers.

The intimacy of it hit her so hard her throat tightened.

“You’re mine,” he whispered against her skin. “No one else– no one gets this.”

“I know.” Her voice was barely audible. “I know i know, i’m yours.”

She was babbling now, there was nothing sound of mind left in her. “You feel so good,” she whispered, completely gone for him. “Ran please, i’m so close.”

His hand tightened around hers.

“Anything.” he said into her skin. “I’d give you anything you wanted.” His forehead dropped near hers, his breath shaking. “Anything. Everything.”

He looked wrecked. Handsome and so far past pretending that the sight of her didn’t make him ache.

“Just–” he exhaled hard, eyes closing for a second. When he opened them again, his gaze just had this helpless devotion that made everything else disappear around them. “I’m going to think about the way you say my name for the rest of my fucking life.”

God.

That was it. That did it. Whatever was left of her was broken, in shambles.

Her breath broke on a sound she couldn’t stop. Ran caught it with his mouth, kissing her through it, hand tightening around hers as everything inside her shattered. She finally stopped trying to brace herself. Letting herself have it all.

She came with his name on her lips, breathless, her body tightening beneath him, before finally going limp.

His rhythm faltered, his control finally broke. Burying himself deep as he followed her over, a broken sound leaving him against her throat.  That sound was something she was going to think about for a long time.

He finally stilled. Hand still in hers. His breath slowed against her neck. The room was quiet, both of them trying to ground themselves back into reality. The city glowing softly in the background, all those distant lights blurring. She had always thought the view from his room was breathtaking. 

Now it barely felt like the thing stealing her breath anymore.

An hour later, clean and exhausted, she stood beside his bed in one of his shirts while Ran pulled the covers back.

“My room is down the hall,” she said, teasing.

Ran looked at her over his shoulder, hair still damp from the shower, expression softened by his fatigue and yet still somehow looked condescending.

“No.”

She blinked, “No?”

“You’re sleeping here.”

He slid into bed like the matter was settled, then lifted the covers for her, patting the mattress beside him.

It was so absurdly domestic that she almost laughed. She climbed in beside him and the second she was close enough he reached for her. His arm wrapped around her waist, drawing her back against his chest, his face pressing into her shoulder.

He muttered something against her shoulder. She turned her head slightly, “What?”

He was already half asleep, “My bed. You.” he mumbled, “My two favorite things.” 

Before she could say anything else, he had already fallen asleep.

She turned to look at him. Damp strands loose over his forehead, his features softened by the dim light. This wasn’t the executive. Not the untouchable man with blood on his sleeves and violence behind his smile.

This was Ran.

Tired and sweet and dare she say cute. The version that the rest of the world never got to see.

She realized she had been fighting this all day - maybe longer. Every charged look, every brush of his fingers, every moment she told herself she still had room to step back had only been another way of delaying the inevitable.

She wanted to laugh a little at herself. Here, in his arms, with no where left to run, confronting herself with the truth.

She had fallen for him.

There was still much she still didn’t know. So much uncertainty about Bonten, about Ran, about the parts of his world she had only seen from a distance. She would have to look at that directly in the future…Eventually.

But not tonight.

Tonight, she only wanted to stay here. Wrapped in his arms, savoring what was left of the night before morning could reach them.

Chapter 15

She woke up in her own bed. Early pale light streaming through the window. She laid still for a moment, registering the familiar weight of her own blankets.

Her own room. Her own space.

And beneath the door, the smell of coffee already made.

She shifted slightly and her fingers moved to her neck, finding the ache there, tender when she pressed lightly. She was sure she would find a mark when she looked in the mirror.

She stared up at the ceiling.

God, that hadn’t felt casual. None of it had.

Her mind was moving so fast but kept drifting back to last night.

What she remembered most wasn’t the desire they both had. She had been prepared for that with how they had been circling each other for weeks. 

What she wasn’t prepared for was everything after. The way everything slowed. 

His hands, which had been frantic and everywhere, suddenly so careful. The contrast of it caught her off guard. His thumb brushing her hair back from her face. Such a small thing but it felt so loaded. How he had looked at her after like–

She exhaled into her pillow.

She didn’t know what to do with that look. Had felt the air between them go thick with everything neither of them was saying, the weight pressing in until she couldn’t be inside of it anymore.

So she made a joke. Something light, something about needing to clean herself up and sleep off the wine before she ended up with the headache she absolutely deserved. Her voice came out easier than it felt. Giving herself an exit that didn’t require either of them to say anything else.

He didn’t respond, just looked at her as she left the room. That look. The one she was replaying over and over in her mind.

She took a deep breath.

Everything felt messy and uncertain. What did last night mean to him? What did it mean to her? What version of normal were they supposed to perform this morning?

She wasn’t ashamed or sorry for what had happened. She just felt… underprepared. Like she needed another day or decade to sort through her thoughts before she could be a person who presumably had their shit moderately together.

Of course he was already in the kitchen, already dressed, leaning against the counter with his coffee, scrolling his phone with his signature lazy ease. Looking up when he heard her come in.

“Morning.”

“Morning.” Her voice came out steadier than she expected. “Did you sleep alright?” 

“No,” he said matter of factly. “Not really.”

He said it without elaborating, without making anything of it, just said it and went back to his coffee.

She looked at him for a moment. Even though he wasn’t looking at her anymore, something in his body language told her he knew exactly what he had just given her. That he had said it on purpose. That he could have said fine and they would have moved on with their awkward performance.

“Me neither,” she said quietly.

He glanced up, just briefly landing on her face for a moment before he looked back down.

Neither of them said anything else about it.

The doors opened onto the executive floor and she heard Sanzu before she saw him.

“Finally.” 

Sanzu was leaning against the wall opposite with his arms crossed over his chest. Looking like he had been there long enough to get comfortable. Rindou stood a few feet away, scrolling his phone, visibly unbothered but with Rin it was hard to tell the difference half the time.

She stepped out of the elevator and Sanzu’s gaze moved to her immediately. Specifically to her neck.

His eyes stilled and his mouth curved slowly into a cheshirelike smile. He turned to Rin and extended his palm up without saying a single word.

Rin looked up from his phone, eyes panning over to her. He closed his eyes briefly with a sigh.

“No.” Rin said, “We don’t even know–”

“Rin.”

“There’s no confirmation–”

“Confirmation?” Sanzu looked at Rin, “Asking for confirmation is actually quite rude.” He gestured at her. “She’s standing right there. We don’t need to make this weird.” He wiggled his fingers, “But you do need to pay up.”

Rin glanced at her and sighed again as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a folded amount of cash with the same energy of a man paying a ransom against their will. And slapped the cash into Sanzu’s eager hand.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Rinny.” Sanzu said in the best customer service voice he could muster.

She looked between them, trying to figure out what she had just walked into. “Can someone,” she started, “maybe fill me in on what–”

She heard footsteps behind her and Koko appeared from down the hall, moving at the pace of someone who had somewhere important to be but stopped to indulge in his curiosity of whatever scheme was playing out in the hallway. 

He glanced at Sanzu’s expression, at Rin’s and then hers briefly. His mouth pulled into the faintest smirk, “Ah, so Sanzu won then.”

“Won what?” she said, “Will someone please–”

“The bet about you and Ran sleeping together,” Koko said, in exactly the same tone he would use to describe business, almost like this was mundane information. He was already looking back down at his phone. “Sanzu had this week. I had next week. Rin–” Koko shot him a quizzical look, “Well, I’m not sure if he’s a romantic or blind but he had somewhere deep in the future, like the week after next month.”

She stared at him in silence.

“i was making better odds for myself.” Rin said flatly.

“You were wrong, so so very wrong,” Sanzu sang cheerfully. “And now your delusions are gonna pay for so much food and booze.”

Koko extended a hand towards Sanzu without looking up, “You owe me twenty percent of that.” 

Sanzu didn’t even blink. “Fuck off.”

“Brokerage fee.”

“That’s extortion. What are you, some sort of yakuza?”

Sanzu turned on his heel as he and Koko started walking away from each other and called over his shoulder, “Send me a formal invoice. I’ll use it as evidence when i take you to court for usury.”

“Usu…you didn’t borrow anything and you never pay invoices.”

Sanzu giggled and put his arm around Rins neck as if telling him the worlds loudest secret, “Heh, get a hold of this guy! He thinks i need a broker to screw Rin out of his money.”

Koko made a sound of mild displeasure and called after Sanzu. “Contracts are sacrosanct, Sanzu. Even here.”

“Cool word.” he said, still walking. “Too bad i’m not looking that up.”

She suddenly remembered Ran was behind her.

Ran was mildly unfazed. Like he knew this was coming and simply decided in advance to not engage with it on any level. He looked almost serene, which was somehow more infuriating than if he had looked embarrassed.

“Did you know about this,” she said.

“Mmm, I had suspicions they would do this,” he paused. “it’s a common occurrence here.”

She turned to look back where Sanzu and Koko were still arguing about fees, Rin having drifted slightly further away from both of them, trying to not be associated with anything currently happening.

“How long,” she said carefully, to the room in general, “has this bet been running?”

Sanzu and Koko stopped arguing.

“Since Ran brought you to live with him,” Rin said, from a safe distance

That had been weeks ago. She thought about every interaction since then, every moment she thought had been private. She could feel the heat reach her face before she could stop it.

“You all need better hobbies.” she said.

“Ohhhhhhhh, once you’re not the subject you’re gonna love it.” Sanzu said immediately, “We’ve got other ones running–” He leaned in slightly, lowered his voice like he was sharing something sacred. “You can get in on them as an insider. There’s one on how long before Ran–”

Ran cleared his throat from behind her.

Sanzu straightened instantly. “-becomes a better person, heh…heh” he finished smoothly.

Rin snorted in the background.

Ran didn’t move, just smiled lightly, his gaze continuing to drill into Sanzu as Sanzu slowly leaned towards Rin while pointing at Ran, “You’d think he hadn’t just gotten laid, am i right?”

Relishing the tension he had created, he turned his gaze to her, a smug smile spreading over his features.

“Don’t. Start." she pointed at him. 

Sanzu wrapped his arm around her shoulder now, “Mister and Missus Sensitive, everyone. What a couple!” he exclaimed, wiping a fake tear from his eye. “Just sad i missed the nuptials of my two favorite softies is all.”

She squinted her eyes at him.

“Shoo, moron.” Ran said in an almost bored tone behind them, still keeping up the appearance of being unbothered by the situation.

“I have loan sharks on one side and violent maniacs on the other. I can’t work in these conditions! HR! Police! Magistrate! Mods!” Sanzu held his hands up, backing away with a grin.

Koko chimed in more seriously from the opposite side of the hallway, “Oh, come see me when you’re settled, I need your eyes on something,” before disappearing, phone up to his ear, like the entire preceding interaction didn’t happen.

“Sure,” she said faintly.

Rin moved past her toward his office and paused for a second, not quite looking at her. “For what it’s worth,” he said, quiet enough that his voice didn’t carry. “I wasn’t betting against you, just didn’t think that stubborn asshole would get out of his own head so quickly. And he loses me money the one time he does it. Tch” 

Then he was gone.

She stood there for a moment after they all walked away, the office resuming its ordinary morning business around her. 

Ran was watching her with that expression she was only just beginning to learn how to decipher. The careful one, the one that wasn't quite readable but wasn’t quite closed off either. 

“Ready?” he asked, with a faint smile dancing on his lips.

She exhaled slowly, “Not even slightly.”

She had been staring at the same line for long enough that the words stopped having any meaning.

Not thinking about this document, about work, about the files Koko just walked her through an hour ago. Thinking about a thumb brushing hair from her face, a look she couldn’t figure out, the casualness of the morning like nothing had drastically changed overnight.

She was so deep in thought she almost missed someone approaching her office. 

She had subconsciously developed her own early warning system for Sanzu over the past few months that allowed her to recognize the sound of his footsteps as he approached her. 

She looked up half a second before he appeared in the doorway, giving her time to arrange her expression into something that didn’t advertise where her mind had drifted off to. It probably wouldn't work knowing him.

As usual, he came in like he owned the place with Rindou following closely, hands in his pockets looking too casual.

“I gotta question,” Sanzu said, dropping onto her couch. “About what Koko was going over this morning.”

She looked at him, already knowing he was scheming. He looked back with the most offensively professional expression she had ever seen appear on his face.

His question lasted approximately twenty seconds, he got through one complete sentence of professional context before his eye sharpened - whatever flimsy pretense he came with had been set aside in favor of what he really came here for.

“Soooo,” he said, hands clasped beneath his chin, sitting forward with his elbows on his knees. “How are we feeling this morning?”

“I’m working.”

“You’re staring at a blank screen.” Rin confirmed from behind her. She turned slightly to find him at her window, hands still in pockets, pretending to study the Tokyo skyline.

“Ok so i want to just say,” Sanzu started, “as your self appointed life coach–”

“-Absolutely not.”

“-And older brother figure–”

She huffed an incredulous laugh.

“-I think it’s genuinely wonderful, healthy, even.” His eyes glinted with mischief like he had been waiting all morning to have this particular conversation. “We all finally have some closure.”

She stared at him. “What closure–”

“Right, closure,” he somehow agreed. “Also–” he paused his expression morphing into something that looked almost reasonable, “--and i say this with complete sincerity–” he paused again, “--it would be really helpful, and possibly profitable for me,  if you could tell me where exactly in the apartment you two–”

“Nope.”

“-also cause, I’m sort of there a lot–”

“No–”

“--and i have standards about surfaces–”

“Haru–”

“Was it the living room?” His eyes widened. “Please don’t tell me it was there, i love that couch and hate it when Koko gets money–”

“Stop–”

“The kitchen?” He recoiled, “God no not the kitchen–”

“HARU–”

“I just need to know what rooms to mentally quarantine–”

She was at a loss of words at this point, there was no stopping this tirade. 

Sanzu froze suddenly, then gasped. “Oh, it was multiple rooms, wasn’t it?” He turned slowly toward Rin. “Multiple rooms.”

Rin didn’t even look at him, “...I don’t want to know this and i’m not even in on this bet.”

“You’re both–” she exhaled, dragging a hand over her face. “I am not having this conversation.”

“We don’t need a full breakdown, silly.” Sanzu said immediately, as if he was being reasonable in his request. “Just the key takeaways–”

“What are they fumigating your offices?” Ran said, standing in her doorway, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe, in his signature lazy look. His gaze moved across the room in a single sweep and raised one eyebrow. “Why are you two pests in here?”

“We’re here on business,” Sanzu said, clearing his throat. “Big, serious Bonten business."

Rans eyes moved to her briefly, glancing at her expression before looking back at Sanzu, “What are we discussing?”

“Shi…Shibuya accounts, the weather,” Sanzu said nodding at her encouragingly for back up, then dropping the pretense when she ignored him. “The intimate details of your sordid–”

“Out.” 

Sanzu’s grin dissolved into a pout, “Awwww, but we were just about to get to the juicy part–”

“Did I stutter.” Ran said cooly, pushing off the doorframe stepping fully into the room. Still fully composed. “Now.” he flashed him a smile.

Sanzu looked at Rin who was already quietly retreating, a man who knew when to choose his battles and today was not the day to face off against his older brother. Sanzu unfolded himself from the couch with every ounce of theatrical reluctance he could muster. Smoothing his jacket slowly, adjusting his collar, purely as a matter of principle.

At the door he stopped and turned, his grin returning. “I wanted again to offer you my congratulations,” he said pressing a hand over his heart, “and may your first child be a masculine child.”

“Out Luca Brasi, before you end up like him.”

“You’re welcome for the facilitation by the way, i feel that’s been somewhat unacknowledged–" He offered as his voice trailed off down the hallway.

The office finally went silent.

Ran stood with his back to her, hand still resting on the handle. She watched him as he exhaled slowly through his nose.

It was such an ordinary sound but it was so completely at odds with the effortless composure he maintains everywhere else, that it caught her slightly off guard.

He finally turned around but didn’t move for her immediately almost like he was taking a moment to regather himself.

“Zero boundaries,” he said finally, the edge in his voice entirely gone now. “Unfortunately, that’s just how it works here. We all know more about each other than anyone asked to know.” He almost laughed, “Usually against our will.”

The corner of his mouth pulled into a soft smirk. He pushed off the door and crossed toward her, unhurried in the way he always was. He leaned against the edge of her desk. His arm near hers, the familiar scent of him impossible to ignore.

“You’re not working,” he said.

“I’m thinking about working,” She picked up her pen then immediately set i back down. She turned to look at him with an exhausted face, “It’s not going well.”

There was a small moment of silence before Ran finally broke it, “What’s your favorite thing to do?”

She looked up at him, thoroughly confused by his inquiry, “what?”

“Not this,” he gestured at the desk, “No work, no Bonten, no obligations or deadlines. You’ve got just a day. What do you actually do with it?”

“That’s such a strange question.”

“It’s not. Quit stalling,” he said smiling.

“I’d go to a bookstore,” she said, honestly. “Get completely lost in it for a few hours and leave with more books than I have room for.”

She wanted to cringe at her own answer.

“Alright, let’s go.”

She stared at him, “What?”

“Close your laptop,” He was already moving toward the door. “We’re leaving.”

“I have actual work–”

“And it will still be there tomorrow, I promise no one's gonna try and steal it from you.”

“Ran–”

“I’m technically your superior.” He glanced over his shoulder, flashing a smile. “And we’re criminals. Koko is not going to dock your pay for one afternoon.”

“I should at least tell him,”

“I’ll text him.” He stopped at the door, turned towards her with arms crossed. Waiting. 

She looked at him. At her laptop. At the files she hadn’t actually looked at for an hour now. Her mind continuously drifted to his hands, the way he looked at her like he was doing at this exact moment.

She finally closed her laptop with a soft snap.

He casually said something in the elevator, like the thought just occurred to him. “We’re gonna stop by my place first, i want to change into something less–” he gestured lightly at himself - the suit, the tie, all of it.

She looked at him, biting back a smile. “Less Bonten?”

“Yeah.” The corner of his mouth pulled slightly. “Less Bonten.”

The elevator opened and they stepped out into the early afternoon light. Her mind turned that phrasing over in her head the whole way back to his apartment.

Less Bonten.

Like it was a costume he could take off. Like he was deliberately choosing to show the person underneath those sharp suits and meticulously crafted image. The person who was just Ran.

Back at his place, he shrugged his jacket off before the door had fully closed, loosening his tie as he disappeared down the hallway. She followed suit and headed to her room, standing in front of her closet reaching for something far less polished. Less Bonten. She shook her head as a small smirk spread across her lips.

A short black skirt, black tights, and oversized grey sweater that was still moderately polished but cozy at the same time. Finishing the look off with a pair of black boots.

She looked at herself in the mirror. Still the same her staring back. And even though she had a wardrobe handpicked by Bonten itself now, this felt a little more comfortable. A little more her.

He was in the kitchen, back to her, doing something with his phone. It took a second to take him in properly.

Dark jeans that fit him unreasonably well, a deep charcoal long sleeve, pushed up at the forearm, a glimpse of his tattoo barely visible beneath the fabric.

And his hair. That was the detail that caught her off guard.

Slightly undone. Not the carefully arranged version the rest of the world got. Just his hair falling looser across his forehead, like he had changed and ran a hand through it and decided that was enough.

He turned around before she could slip deeper into her thoughts.

His gaze moved over her slowly, Her sweater, her skirt, the dark palette of it. His own clothes, the same muted tones, the same shared instinct that was reached from opposite ends of the same hallway.

She felt the moment he registered it, yet neither of them said a word.

She felt herself blushing at his gaze. This was ridiculous. Last night they had… Why was she now standing in his kitchen fighting a blush because they accidentally matched and he was looking at her like that with his hair like that.  She couldn’t believe after everything this is what she was uncontrollably spiraling over.

“Ready?” he said, voice light and warm with an almost smile threatening to become an actual one.

“Yepp.” she said, with composure that she absolutely did not feel.

She directed him to her favorite bookshop. Left here, right there, down an unassuming street that didn’t look like it led anywhere. He followed without questions, and stole glances of her at every red light.

The shop was warm and quiet and smelled exactly like she needed it to - that unmistakable alchemy of paper and dust that didn’t exist outside of these spaces. 

“So how does this work,” he said, low enough just for her to hear. “Do you have a plan or does the bookstore just–”

“No plan.” She was already moving along a shelf, fingers trailing lightly across the spines. She pulled something out, glanced over the cover and quickly put it back. “I don’t usually like reading what’s popular,” she said. “Does that sound pretentious?”

“Oh it absolutely does,” he said, smirking.

“Amazing, I’ll be in great company with you then.”

He huffed a small laugh, still watching her, then tilted his head slightly. “So what–” he gestured at the books, “you’re digging for books no one had heard of? The ones hidden under the floorboards?”

“Alright Poe,” she said, almost under her breath. “Calm down.”

He looked at her confused at first. Then, looking at the slight smile on her lips, he smiled and his eyes lingered on her, as if he was filing something away in his mind.

She turned back to the shelf, entirely too pleased with herself. “Usually it's the strange ones,” she said, scanning the shelf again. “unusual titles, covers that are eye catching or don’t quite make sense, premises that feel like they might actually change my perspective on something.” she slid another book back onto the shelf,  “if it asks nothing of me, i’m not interested.”

“I understand,” he nodded with profound gravitas and drifted away down a random alise with his hands in his pockets.

Thirty seconds was all it took before he was back at her shoulder.

“Found it,” he whispered to her.

She turned to find him holding a book out with both hands, expression completely sincere. The cover was aggressively terrible. An obnoxious green color, a woman in a flowing dress arranged dramatically against what looked like a pirate ship. The title was ‘Seven Loves in the Seven Seas.’

She stared at it.

“Intriguing title,” he said, perfectly straight faced. “The cover absolutely caught my eye and the premise feels like it might change something in your life.” he paused, “This one will really make you work for it.”

She looked at him. At the book. Then back at him, at that expression he was wearing, the charming, shit eating grin he was making no real effort to hide.

“I think what this book asks of me,” she started slowly, as if trying to find the perfect words, reaching for the book and pushing it slowly onto his chest. “Is for me to tell you to put it back. Right now.”

He turned, placing the book back on the shelf with great theatrical reluctance. She turned away before her face could betray her. She heard him fall into step behind her and felt him just radiating in satisfaction. 

She was smiling. She could feel it and couldn’t stop it and absolutely was not going to turn around and let him see.

She had actual butterflies around him today. Over him listening carefully to everything she said and then immediately using it to find the most objectionable thing in the shop.

She was in serious trouble.

She had almost fully composed herself by the time she found him in a completely different section.

He was standing very still, holding something, reading the back cover with an expression of genuine focus.

“Looks like you found something.” she said, approaching him slowly.

“Did you know,” he said without looking up, “they have an entire section dedicated to the history of organized crime in Japan?”

She looked over and he was already pulling something else off the shelf with an expression of complete innocence. “They’re very thorough,” he added. “Well researched.” He turned toward her, holding the book up slightly. “I feel seen.”

She pressed a hand over her mouth to stop the laugh that was trying to escape.

“This is no laughing matter,” he said, completely serious, tapping the cover lightly. “This material is the very foundation of our lives,” He paused. “Without them walking,” he paused again for dramatic emphasis, “how would we run?”

She laughed anyway, couldn’t help it. Someone glanced her direction and she pressed her lips together to stop but then made the mistake of catching his eye and felt it threatening to escape all over again.

He looked entirely too pleased with himself.

She shook her head slightly, lowering her voice. “I didn’t realize you and Rin had the same sense of humor.”

“Rin learned from me,” he said easily. “Obviously.”

She laughed quietly to herself, turning back to the shelf before her face could give anything else away.

They stepped out into the afternoon with their books – her books, his money, a transaction she had zero input on. He had done it so smoothly she hadn’t even seen it happen. She decided to let it go, there was nothing to say about it that wouldn’t just entertain him.

They walked in comfortable silence, breathing in the fresh air, taking in the afternoon light spreading across the street around them.

She was watching a cat walk along the sidewalk in front of them and a thought popped into her head.

“If Bonten had a Yelp page,” she said, not looking at him, “what do you think the reviews would say?”

She felt him look at her.

“...What,” he said.

“Hypothetically,” She kept her eyes on the cat in front of her. “The reviews, what do you think they would be?”

Silence.

She glanced at him.

He had slowed his pace, not quite stopping, looking like his brain had just been handed something he wasn’t expecting and needed a moment. His expression was doing something she didn’t see very often, the composure holding on but something underneath clearly fighting its way up.

He pressed his lips together very deliberately. “You’ve been spending too much time with Sanzu,” he said finally.

“That’s not an answer.”

“You’re right, that’s more like a diagnosis.” he smiled. “Where did that even – how did you even come up with that?”

“I demand an answer,” she said, with a smirk that gave her away.

He looked at her for a moment.

“One star,” he finally answered. “Atmosphere needs significant work. HR’s worst nightmare. Staff occasionally violent. Management answers most complaints with ‘good’.” 

“You’re really selling us right now,” she said sarcastically. “How are we supposed to earn business at this rate?”

He considered this with mock seriousness. “Sanzu.”

She waited.

“He generates more problems than any one organization could reasonably create on its own,” he said. “We never run out of work. Completely unintentional business model but here we are.” He paused. “Do not tell him I said that. He will gloat about it for months and somehow end up with it on a business card.”

A laugh escaped her before she could do anything about it.

He watched her laugh and something in his expression lit up. 

“You asking me that sort of explains the mystery of how you and Sanzu became fast friends,” he said.

She shook her head, still smiling and they kept walking.

They had been walking for a while when she noticed the city beginning to thin out around them. The streets got quieter, the air felt different, the sound of water became more apparent.

She slowed without thinking and he matched her pace, the river coming into view ahead of them, the golden hour light dancing across its surface.

Neither of them had planned this. She stopped at the railing and he followed suit, standing next to her gazing out at the water ahead in silence for a moment.

Ran broke the silence, still looking out at the water rather than at her.

“I wanted today to be like this,” he said.

She glanced at him.

“I wanted to see what you were like outside of all of it.” He gestured loosely, “Outside of my world. Our world.” He paused. “We don’t really get to be normal. Any of us. That’s just – what this life is.” He exhaled slightly. “But i figured we could try. That I could at least show you its possible. That there’s a version of all of us that isn’t just… all of that.”

She looked at him. The light glowing on his face, his expression completely open and honest.

“I think its working,” she said softly.

He didn’t quite smile but she could tell that her words pleased him.

He was quiet for a moment longer, then he turned toward her slightly, his voice dropping lower, inching a little closer so his words were just for her. “I also haven’t been able to stop thinking about last night.”

She felt her breath escape her.

“I definitely rushed it.” he said simply. “I won’t make that mistake next time.”

The way he said it was so calm and certain with a confidence that made it difficult to look at him directly. She kept her gaze on the water moving below them, like it might steady herself.

His hand found her face, his thumb just resting against her jaw, moving her face back toward him with the kind of care that made her chest ache before she even met his eyes.

She had to look at him now. His eyes met hers like she was the only person in the world.

He leaned in slowly and kissed her softly. Nothing like the first time, nothing like the urgency of the night before. Just his lips against hers. She stilled for a second then leaned into it, kissing him back gently.

When he pulled back it wasn’t far, close enough she could still feel him.

“You’re smiling.”

Her eyes opened, “Oh, don’t ruin the moment.”

He smiled back at her, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

And for once in her life she didn’t try to understand what this meant. She just knew she didn’t want it to stop.

cw: sexual content

The restaurant was too loud.

Music playing over conversations, laughter from other tables, the clinks of glasses and plates. Definitely the kind of place Sanzu would pick... lively, crowded, good food and dangerous drinks.

They had been there an hour. Maybe longer... 

It felt longer. Ran had stopped keeping track at this point.

She was sitting next to him, close enough that her arm brushed his when she moved. Sanzu and Rin sitting across from them with Sanzu characteristically engrossed in one of his stories about something bizarre, gesturing wildly while spilling his drink.

The drinks kept coming.

All of them getting looser and more unfiltered with each round. She laughed at everything Sanzu said and her hands got more exploratory with every sip.

Little touches here are there, like she didn’t even realize she was doing it. But Ran noticed. every single one. Felt them like sparks against his skin.

“You’re pretty quiet,” she said, leaning close to him so he could hear her over the noise. Her breath in his ear sent a slight shiver throughout his body.

“Oh, am I now?” he managed.

“Very,” she pulled back just enough to look at him, tilting her head. “What are you thinking about?”

You, he wanted to say. Every moment since I got back.

“Nothing important,” he said instead, willing his voice to be light.

She didn’t look convinced but smiled anyways, leaning closer to him and pressing her shoulder into his.

He took a drink to try to offset the tension radiating through his muscles. He was going to lose his fucking mind.

The table was animated with conversations and laughter. He wasn’t listening.

Couldn’t focus on anything except the way her fingers were tracing absent patterns on his forearm where it rested on the table. She wasn’t even aware she was doing it.

Just talking, laughing, fingers moving in idle circles against him, like this was normal–

Her hand drifted to his thigh. Resting just above his knee. He could feel its warmth.

His restraint was fraying, chipping away little by litter with every second that passed. His hand moved before he could think and covered hers.

She glanced at him and smiled softly. It felt like everything was fading away in the background. Just her. Just this moment. The feeling of her hand under his.

He couldn’t sit here pretending that his proximity to her wasn’t slowly killing him. He was done pretending he didn’t want to get her alone more than he wanted his next breath.

“We should head out soon,” he heard himself say.

It was a miracle his voice came out steady and controlled.

Sanzu raised an eyebrow, “You sleepy?”

“It’s late, I’ve had a long day,” he answered, not taking the bait.

She turned to look at him, a little tipsy, a little curious, a little teasing. “You want to leave?” she asked.

Yes. Desperately. Before I do something stupid in front of everyone. Before I can’t pretend I’m not completely undone by you.

“Unless you want to stay,” he said, keeping his tone casual.

She considered for a moment, her hand still under his, then smiled. “No, let’s go.”

Relief washed over him.

Sanzu’s probably grinned insufferably. Ran didn’t care. He just wanted to get her her alone.

“Be a good host, aniki,” Sanzu said the moment they walked into Ran’s place. “Break out the good stuff.”

“You already drank the good stuff.” 

“Psht, old news, that was last week. You haven’t restocked yet?”

“That was two days ago,” Ran shot back, “how drunk did you get?”

Sanzu waved him off, “Time is relative and inversely correlated to drunkenness." He was already moving toward the study. “Don’t worry, I know where your stash is.”

“You already stole an entire bottle, asshole.”

“I’ll put it back.”

“The bottle?”

“I’ll replace it, I mean,” Sanzu slurred, already a bit drunk.

“He won’t,” Rin muttered.

“My intentions are pure! My resolve is unwavering.” Sanzu’s voice carried back.

She laughed.

Ran glanced at her before he could stop himself. 

She was still flushed from dinner and the walk back. Her hair had come loose and he could barely keep his eyes off of her. 

She looked beautiful. That word felt inadequate. It didn’t even come close to what he was looking at. Something in his chest pulled dangerously tight. He felt like he was going to snap in two at this rate.

Sanzu reappeared briefly in the doorway, grinning.

“Come on,” he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the hall, “before he remembers he owns the place and tries to stop us.” 

“I’m coming, don’t yank so hard–” she laughed.

He watched her disappear down the hall, feeling his chest squeeze tighter again. He wanted to toss Sanzu into the elevator and gather her into him.

Rin stopped next to him, clapped his shoulder once and leaned into his brother. “Try not to implode in the next ten minutes.”

“Fuck off.”

“Just saying.” Rin straightened and followed Sanzu down the hall.

Sanzu switched on the lights on in the study.

Soft light spread overhead, but it was nothing compared to the city glowing beyond the windows. The same skyline he stared at from this room hundreds of times before. But not like this. Not with her standing in it. She stood silhouetted against the cityscape and the rest of the room melted out of existence.

Sanzu was rifling through the liquor cabinet like a raccoon in a trashcan. 

“Ohh ohhh,” he said, pulling something out and holding up to the light. “Now we’re talkin’.”

He lined up four glasses into a neat row and started pouring without permission.

Rin dropped into one of the chairs near the window, and sank deep into its cushions. He looked like a man who had reached the absolute end of his tolerance for Sanzu’s chaos.

She perched on the armrest beside Rin and accepted the drink sanzu handed her with a quiet thank you.

She fit here so naturally. In this room, in this life. With them.

That was the problem. Or maybe it wasn’t a problem at all.

Maybe that was what had been eating away at him for days, the realization the he wanted it, wanted her here in his space, in his life, for reasons that had nothing to do with Bonten or work or any logical justification he could give himself.

Ran pulled his tie loose, and unbuttoned his collar. He felt like he could sort of breathe again.

Across the room Sanzu was telling some story. Rin looked half asleep.

She was listening. But every few seconds her eyes flicked back to Ran and he met her gaze. She tucked her hair behind her ear, fingers brushing gracefully across her skin. He wished that was his hand feeling her hair through his fingers.

She laughed again at something Sanzu said and his grip tightened on his glass. Knuckles going white against the crystal.

All night he had smelled her perfume when she would lean closer to him over the noise of the restaurant. He could still feel her hand on his arm and his thigh under the table. He had woken up this morning in Osaka thinking about her before his eyes were even fully open.

He stood in his own home, surrounded by people he'd known his entire life and saw only her.

Dangerous.She was so fucking dangerous. And she had absolutely no idea.

No idea that she had him completely wrapped around her finger without even trying. That she could ask him for anything right now and he would give it to her with no questions asked. That every thread of control he spent days trying to rebuild had unraveled the second she walked back into his space.

He barely noticed that Sanzu had caught him staring at her. Ran looked away quickly and gulped his drink, the whisky fumes felt like they singed his nose, eyes, and brain. He barely kept himself from coughing. He glanced at Sanzu, hoping his gaze had moved away from him. Instead he saw Sanzu’s eyes looking at him quizzically for a moment and then his eyebrows moved upwards in realization. Sanzu straightened suddenly and set his glass down decisively.

“Well,” he announced, stretching like a cat. “I think it’s time to call it quits in the Haitani household.”

She blinked, “Aww, already?”

“The night is young and I yearn for chaos,” Sanzu said, moving towards Ran. “And ignoring one’s yearning is a true sin.” 

His eyes were firmly planted on Ran’s and as he reached him, he mockingly punched Ran’s chin with a click of the tongue and a wink, like some weird old man. 

“Go get ‘er, champ,” he announced loudly.

Rin groaned and followed Sanzu down the hallway. Ran would have cringed if he hadn’t felt a wave of relief that all distractions were now gone.

The apartment fell silent except for the low hum of the city beyond the windows and the faint click of ice melting in the emplty glasses.

For a moment neither of them moved, until she finally stood.

Setting her drink on the side table, walking unhurried toward him, backlit by the skyline, that small smile still lingering on the corners of her mouth.

“You look exhausted,” she said softly.

“Do I?” His voice came out rougher than he intended.

“Mhm.” She was studying him. “Long few days?”

Understatement of the fucking year.

“You could say that, wasn’t exactly a fun work trip.” he smiled faintly.

Her eyes drifted lower and her expression softened. To his collar, his throat, to the ink just visible now that his shirt was slightly open. She went completely still.

“You know, I’ve never seen these.” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her hand lifted, fingers hesitating near his collar. 

“May I?”

He nodded quickly, he couldn’t trust his voice if he spoke at that second.

Her fingers touched his skin and the contact felt like electricity surged through his veins.

She traced the ink lightly along his collar bone, following the lines slowly. She was taking in everything carefully, noting each design.

“I’ve wondered about these.” she murmured, still not looking at him, completely focused on the tattoos. “What they looked like. How far they went.” 

He gulped, did she just admit she had been thinking about him, about his body, about doing this, touching him like this. His mind was racing and he couldn't slow it down.

Her fingers followed the ink to where it disappeared beneath his shirt. She paused there, fingertips resting against the fabric.

“I've been told here’s more under here,” she said softly.

“Yeah.”

“Can I–” she gestured to the buttons still fastened.

He hesitated a moment. Couldn't understand why.

“Yeah.”

Her fingers found the next button. She glanced up at him through her lashes like she expected him to stop her.

He didn’t. He couldn’t even if he wanted to.

The button slipped free with a soft sound. Then another. And another. Each button revealing more. More ink snaking across his skin. More scars. More history etched across his body.

She pushed the fabric aside carefully and her breath caught audibly.

“Ran…”

His chest, his ribs, his shoulders, his abs. All of it covered in intricate work that had to have taken years to complete. Every piece obviously meaningful.

She just stared for a moment before she traced the tattoos with her fingers as if mapping them. She stepped between his legs without seeming to realize it. Needing to be closer, to see them properly. Her breath ghosted across his skin and his whole body registered it like a warning.

“They’re beautiful.” she whispered, her voice filled with awe.

Her fingers moved across his ribs, tracing the lines there. 

His head tipped back slightly as he exhaled slowly through his nose, trying desperately to stay in control, stay calm.

“Ticklish?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Something like that,” he smiled.

She kept touching him, mapping every detail, completely absorbed in what she was doing and unaware of what she was doing to him. Maybe.

Her hand drifted lower. Tracing the lines across his stomach, each touch light but burning.

Then her hand settled on his thigh. For balance, probably. As she leaned closer to examine something intricate along his ribs.

She froze. Her hand was right there. She could feel exactly how hard he was. Her eyes flicked down then slowly back up to meet his.

He let out a quiet breathless laugh, there was really no point in hiding it. “Yeah. That’s…not really in my control right now when you’re looking at me like that.”

She didn’t move her hand, just held his gaze. Then stepped closer, fully between his legs now. Close enough that he could feel the warmth of her body. Her other hand came up, resting on his chest. Never once breaking eye contact.

She could definitely feel it now. How fast his heart was racing. How thoroughly she’d destroyed any pretense that he had even a shred of control left.

“You should probably stop,” he said, trying to keep his tone even.

“Why?”

“I'm trying very hard to behave.”

She tilted her head, studying him with those eyes that saw too much of him, then softly asked, “What if I don't want you to behave?”

God. She had no idea what she was asking. No idea what she did to him.

Standing there looking like that, like she wanted him to lose control, like she was daring him to stop holding back…and she had absolutely no concept of how dangerous that was for both parties. 

He spent three days in Osaka trying to beat it out of his system and failing, had sat through dinner tonight barely holding himself together, had watched her all night like a man dying of thirst watching water he couldn’t reach.

He would do anything she asked right now. Her hand was still resting over his heart. His pulse pounding beneath her palm like his body was trying to tell her everything he couldn’t say. 

The air between them charged, like standing in a field right before lightning strikes. Knowing you should run but being unable to move.

Then, lighting struck.

He pulled her in and kissed her desperately. He was done pretending.

Her hands were immediately in his hair, pulling him closer. Her mouth opened under his and the taste of her made his head swim.

His hands were everywhere. Her waist, her hips, her thighs, unable to settle anywhere for more than a second. He just needed all of her, everywhere at once. He was frenetic.

His hand moved into her hair, gripping it tight enough to tilt her head back, exposing her neck to him.

Dragging his mouth along her jaw, her throat, kissing every inch of skin he could reach.

She made a soft sound that shot straight through him.

His teeth grazed her throat lightly. He had the urge to bite down, to mark her, to leave evidence of this moment. He wanted to see his marks on her skin. He wanted others to see his work.

He kissed lower. His teeth continuing to drag lightly across her soft, warm skin. He wanted to taste every inch of her, to map her entire body with his mouth, learn what desperate sounds he could make her let out.

His hands slid down to the back of her thighs and lifted her up, spinning her in one quick motion until she was sitting on the edge of the pool table.

She gasped, wrapping her legs around him automatically, pulling him closer to her.

He kissed her again, harder, one hand tangled in her hair, the other gripping her hip. He couldn’t stop touching her, just wanted to feel every inch of her with his fingertips.

Her hands moved from his shoulders, to his chest, tracing over the tattoos she had just been admiring. Then lower. To his belt. Her fingers fumbled with the buckle. He helped her. 

His pants unbuttoned, he shoved them down just enough to free himself. Her hand wrapped around him and he made a choked sound against her neck.

Fuck.

His hand slid down finding the hem of her skirt, pushing it up roughly. His fingers hooked into her panties–

Jesus – she was so wet already.

He froze for a second and looked down to the wet fabric clinging to her.

The realization that she might have been feeling what he had throughout the night pulled a rough sound from his throat. Heat was spiking through him so sharply it almost hurt.

His fingers moved, sliding through her wetness and she let out a breathy sound as her hips instinctively moved into his touch.

God. He couldn’t … but he needed...

He slid the fabric aside with unsteady fingers. Couldn’t think of anything else except getting inside of her.

He lined himself up and pushed in slowly, despite his body wanting to move faster. She was so tight he had to pause for a moment to breathe but she rolled her hips taking him deeper. He could no longer think.

She gripped him and he thrust in harder. 

She half gasped, half whimpered and he was lost to the world.

Her head tipped back and her hair brushed his hand on her back. Her lips parted and he could see the outline of her tongue. Her hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging in hard enough to leave a mark.

“Ran–”

His name, spilling from her lips in the moment, destroyed him.

He kissed her again, messy and desperate. Trying to swallow every sound she made because he needed them. All of it. All of her.

Fuck. The way she moved with him, the little catches in her breath when he hit deeper. This was supposed to fix–

She tightened around him and he could feel her getting close. Could tell by the way her body tensed, how she dug her nails harder into his shoulders, the small sounds catching in her throat.

He shifted the angle, went deeper, picked up his pace.

Chasing both of their releases now. Thinking this would fix him, would give him back some semblance of control.

She let out a broken sound against his mouth and he felt it everywhere.

The wet sound of their bodies moving together, the way she was slick around him, the obscene perfection of this moment.

“Ran– please–”

Please.

That single word undid him completely.

He moved faster, rougher, one hand gripping her hip hard enough to leave bruises, the other bracing the table beside her.

His mouth found her neck again and he bit down, losing the last ounce of gentleness he had in him. Marking her. 

His.

He was lost in her. The pressure building quickly in his stomach.

She came first. He felt it in the way she clenched around him. Letting out a broken cry, gasping his name against his shoulder.

He couldn’t hold back anymore and fell apart almost immediately after her. Just the white hot pleasure consuming him, blurring everything. Coming inside her with a sound he couldn’t suppress any longer.

He slowed his pace, rode out the aftershocks until he finally stilled. Reality returning in small fragments.

Her ragged breathing against his neck, his own heart beating out of his chest, the cool air hitting his bare skin, the table digging sharply into his thighs, the skyline still glowing behind her.

She shifted slightly and he winced at the movement realizing how oversensitive he was. Ever so slowly he pulled out, watching her face the entire time, burning the small sound she made into his memory.

She looked flushed, disheveled, and glowing. His marks already blooming across her neck.

His.

He reached up, pushing her hair out of her face behind her ear and she smiled up at him.

The realization hit him like a freight train.

This hadn’t fixed anything. In fact, it made everything so much worse.

Because now he knew.

Knew how she sounded when she came, how she felt wrapped around him, the way she said his name when she fell apart, how her skin tasted, the sounds she made when he marked her.

He wanted more.

He needed more.

Needed to hear those sounds again, needed to know what other sounds he could pull from her, wanted to take his time, to see all of her instead of fumbling with clothes in desperation.

He let out a breath, almost a laugh as he shook his head slightly. “This wasn’t exactly how I pictured this going,” he said.

“What,” she said, smiling wider, “you mean the pool table wasn’t a part of your master plan?”

He almost laughed, “No.”

“Hmm that’s a shame,” she said lightly, “and here I thought you had this whole thing orchestrated.”

He’d thought about it, of course he had, spent weeks thinking about it. But in his head it had gone differently.

He would have been controlled, taking his time, exploring her thoroughly instead of losing it completely.

Not blacking out the second he got his hands on her. Not coming inside her less than five minutes after finally getting to touch her properly.

It was almost absurd.

He was annoyed with himself, but he didn’t regret it. 

Not when she was looking at him like that. Still smiling, looking at him like– like he was something worth looking at that way.

It twisted like a knife in his chest.

Would you still look at me like that if you saw who I was yesterday?

If she had seen him in Osaka. In that basement, covered in someone else's blood. If she saw the real Ran Haitani. The Bonten Executive. The one who broke people for a living and felt nothing.

Would she still look at him like this? Like he was worth something more than violence.

He didn't know. 

And that thought terrified him more than anything.

chapter 13 cw: blood, graphic violence

The day before.

When Ran learned they were being sent to Osaka to hunt down a traitor, relief washed over him.

Finally, somewhere to put this restless energy that was crawling under his skin. Work. Control. Violence. The things he was good at. Things that made sense to him.

He leaned back in his seat, watched Tokyo disappear beneath the clouds. He tried not to think about her still down there, in his apartment, existing in his space without him. Tried not to think about the kiss. The way she felt pressed against him. The way she said his name.

Was it just desire? Adrenaline? The rush of finally admitting something he had been ignoring for a while now?

He didn’t know. And he didn’t want to unpack and dissect it. He couldn’t even if he wanted to. Not now at least, not when they had work to do.

Focus on the job, he thought.. Let the job clear his head like it always had. Deal with everything when he got back.

That was manageable.

When the plane touched down in Osaka he exhaled slowly and rolled his shoulders. Getting ready to slip into the more comfortable version of himself.

This would help. It had to.

The room in the basement was damp, dark and cold.

A single bare bulb overhead, that seemed better at casting shadows, was all that lit the room. One of the shadows draped over the ruined face of a man sitting on a creaky metal chair. He was already bleeding from Rin’s preliminary work. Face swollen, breathing through a broken nose.

The job was straightforward, find the rat who sold out Bonten. They were squeezing information from known associates until someone broke. Breaking people was a Haitani specialty.

This should regulate whatever was off in him, Ran thought. Hit the reset button.

His footsteps echoed as he crossed the room slowly, letting the fear build with the mans every breath.

He stopped in front of the chair, tilted the mans head and smiled.

“Make this easy on yourself.”

The man spat blood and shook his head. Ran’s smile widened. Back to work.

His sleeves were rolled to his elbows and his knuckles were speckled with darkening red dots. His jacket draped neatly nearby. Every few minutes he would wipe away the accumulated speckles off of his knuckles with a ragged towel. He was methodical. The man’s breathing was shifting from hard defiance to belabored desperation. Most of the time, things went as if they were following a program and this man was entering the pleading phase. He whimpered and Ran felt grounded in his work.

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

Ran stepped back, excusing himself, wiping bloods from his hands slowly, while the man gasped for air across the room.

Another buzz.

He pulled out his phone and saw a text notification from her. Something about Sanzu being surprisingly domestic. A joke about the Haitani’s being the real bad influence.

The smile that cracked his face was genuine this time.

He typed back something teasing and pocketed his phone, turning back to the now crumpled man.

“Where were we?”

This felt fine.

An hour later, they had firmly established the man knew nothing useful. He was just stubbornly obstinate and Ran felt he could respect that. 

“No hard feelings,” Ran offered. “You’re our kind of stubborn. After you heal up, drop by one of the clubs next door and tell them the Haitani’s sent you.”

He felt settled for the first time since leaving Tokyo. He was in his element. He was fine.

By evening, they tracked down another associate. Different location. Same bare concrete walls in a damp, dark and cold basement with dancing shadows.

This one had a mouth on him. He kept spitting insults through his broken teeth.

Twenty minutes in, Ran’s knuckles were split open. He could barely make out the features of the man’s face anymore.

“Last chance.” Ran said, voice still pleasant. “Tell me where he is.”

“Fuck you.”

His phone buzzed. He stepped back, blood soaking through the rag in his hands. It buzzed again. A photo loaded on the screen after he unlocked it. Her. On his living room floor. Pizza boxes, beer bottles, disheveled and grinning with her middle finger up at the camera. His jaw tightened.

Rin leaned over and laughed softly at Sanzu’s commentary in the group chat. Ran stared at the picture for a few seconds too long. He felt the damp cold in his bones and the cuts on his knuckles began stinging. The sitting man was mumbling insults at him and it angered him. He squeezed the lock button on his phone and cracked his neck.

The tightness in his jaw spread to his shoulders and chest. He breathed and unlocked the phone again. He could almost hear one of Rins eyebrows creak up as he typed, deleted and retyped the same sentence fragment on the screen. Something about the whiskey they were drinking. He turned his phone away so Rin couldn’t see what he was typing, sent the messages and pocketed his phone.

When he turned back to the unfriendly associate, something shifted in his demeanor and the man saw it painted clearly on Ran’s face.

“You know,” Ran said through clenched teeth, pulling his baton from the pocket of his resting jacket, flicking the baton down to extend, “You’re not actually important enough for this to be difficult.”

The light cast a shadow over half of Ran’s face making it look like an uncanny mask.

The man shifted in the chair, trying to lean away as if distance alone might save him.

Ran didn’t move at first. Then he caught the front of the mans shirts and dragged him forward across the concrete in one sharp pull, the chair legs screeching violently.

The baton came down in the same breath, without warning. The crack against bone was blunt and ugly, even Rin flinched despite himself.

The man sagged, dazed with a strangled groan escaping his lips.

Ran kept a hold of him, leaning down to get closer. 

“I’m trying my best to be patient with you.”

He wasn’t.

The second strike hit the mans ribs before Ran finished his sentence. He slowed himself slightly so the man could finally comprehend the pain Ran had inflicted.

By the third hit, the man had begun yelping, trying to talk, trying to give the brothers anything. But Ran picked up the pace.

Rin stood against the wall, arms crossed. His face was neutral but he knew Ran was barely even thinking about the job.

The man spilled out words between gasps as Ran slowed down. He would resume hitting the man every time he stopped talking. He began repeating himself over and over as he lost consciousness, his words replaced by ragged breaths.

The man slumped over in the chair in front of him and Ran brought his baton down again. And again.

The force jarred up his arms. On the final blow, his grip gave out and the baton clattered onto the concrete.

The only sound in the room now was Ran catching his breath.

“You good?” Rin asked from across the room, knowing Ran had barely heard what the man had told them. He knew his brothers mind was not engaged with anything in the confined space they were in.

“Fine,” Ran muttered, hands on his hips while staring at the ground.

Rin studied him for a second, clicked his tongue under his breath, then reached for their jackets.

Ran pulled on his jacket and followed him out of the building, barely paying attention. His phone felt heavy in his pocket. He wanted to check it. He imagined her name lighting up his screen anyway. His hand drifted toward his pocket before he caught himself. Rin’s sharp click of disapproval echoed in his memory.

Ran forced his hand back to his side.

The violence was supposed to clear his head so he could go back to Tokyo and deal with whatever the fuck this was. If anything, this trip was throwing him more off balance than before. Like something had shifted so drastically he had no way of recalibrating.

His resolve lasted for about ten steps before he pulled out his phone. Nothing. No new notifications.

His jaw was tight as he unlocked it anyway and lingered on the photo - only after making sure Rin wasn’t looking. The cold air burned in his throat and he swallowed against the dryness, forcing back a cough.

The sharp click of the lock screen sounded louder than it should have.

Behind him, Rin shook his head. “Tch.”

Ran stiffened.

One more day. Then he’d be back. He would feel better when the job was done and he was back in Tokyo. That would clear his mind.

He suddenly felt worse.

They found the rat in a shitty apartment in east Osaka. Third floor walkup with peeling paint that reeked of mold.

He was exactly what Ran had expected. Pathetic. Already sweating before they even touched him.

“Wait–please–i can explain–”

Ran’s patience had not made the trip to the apartment.

This fucking prick was the reason he had been stuck in Osaka for days. The reason he had been forced to sit with these feelings crawling under his skin. The reason he couldn’t go back to Tokyo.

He crossed the room quickly and the first hit came with no preamble, before the man could even finish his sentence.

He went down, started pleading immediately, scrambling backward on the floor.

“Please–I’ll tell you everything–i’ll–”

Ran didn’t want to hear it.

Didn’t want to hear his excuses, his explanations, his pleading, his begging. Didn’t want this to take one second longer than necessary. He just wanted it done.

His hands found the mans collar, pulled him up, and slammed him against the wall hard enough for the chipped plaster to fall to the floor.

“Ran–” Rin’s voice cut through.

He ignored him.

The man was still talking. Still pleading. Words spilling out in a desperate stream.

It infuriated him.

The next hit shut him up. Then another. And another. No control anymore, just aggression and force. He didn’t tease or laugh at the mans pain. He didn’t mockingly tell him to stop making a scene. Ran was not enjoying himself. Not today.

Today he just wanted this piece of shit to stop breathing so he could get the fuck out of Osaka.

The man went limp. Unconscious or dead, Ran didn’t care. He finally let go and the body crumpled to the floor at his feet.

His breathing was heavy, his knuckles were split open, blood trailing down his forearm, splattered across his shirt.

The tension he felt never eased, it became worse and almost unbearable.

Why the fuck was he not enjoying this? Why the fuck was his mind on his phone? He wanted the violence to burn through whatever the fuck was currently wrong with him. It didn’t. He was still wound too tight and it felt suffocating.

“Ran.” Rin repeated, now closer and Ran felt a hand on his shoulder.

“What.” he snapped and swiped away Rin’s hand.

“Ran,” Rin repeated again, this time grabbing Ran’s arm.

Ran turned to find Rin watching him with a concerned expression.

“Are you ok?”

“I’m fine.” Ran punctuated his words a little too hard, “The job’s done, let’s go.”

Ran’s words came out but Rin’s expression hadn’t removed any sting.

“Yeah, the job's been done for like five minutes now…you just kept going.”

Had he? Ran looked down at the body at his feet. His stomach dropped. This was overkill.

“So?” he asked defensively, though his heart was not in it.

Rin said nothing, just kept watching him with that steady gaze.

Ran wanted to snap at him, wanted to say something cutting, wanted–

He turned away, headed for the bathroom to wash his hands. He just needed a second to fucking breathe.

The bathroom was as shitty as the rest of the apartment. Cracked tile, rust, mirror barely hanging on.

He turned on the water and watched the blood streaked water swirl down the drain.

His reflection stared back at him from the mirror. Blood splattered across his shirt, his face, his hair, his jaw locked so tight his teeth ached. Expression harder than it should have been. He looked furious. He felt furious.

At what?

The traitor was dead, the job was done, they could leave Osaka, go back to Tokyo. Move on.

Why did he still feel like this? Why did he feel on edge? Why did he feel like he wanted to break something else just to see if it would help?

What the fuck was wrong with him?

He gripped the edge of the sink, leaned in. Like if he stood still enough, if he pressed down hard enough, he could force himself back to how he usually was through sheer will.

Violence always worked. Always. 

It was simple, it was honest, it was a language he had been fluent in since he was a kid - hurt someone, control the outcome, feel everything click back into place.

Tonight it hadn’t clicked. Tonight it only made the silence louder.

He stared at his hands under the running water, at the faint tremor in his hands that hadn’t been there until just now.

That should have been his release, this should have burned through whatever was crawling under his skin and left him feeling hollow. 

Why the fuck was he still thinking about his phone?

He had an urge to unlock his phone again and stare at the photo of her drunk on his floor flipping off the camera. He wished he could forcibly remove the thought from his brain. 

He’s built his entire life on not needing anything he couldn’t control. He had cut those things from his life. He had willed those things away from his life.

His reflection stared back at him and he steadied himself into looking into the eyes of Ran Haitani, Bonten executive.

His phone sat heavy in his pocket but he didn’t take it out. 

“Ran.” Rin’s voice came from behind him, “We’re leaving.”

Ran straightened, nodded and walked past Rin out without looking at the body on the floor.

The weight of the phone in his pocket didn’t get any lighter.

Outside, Osaka’s air was cold, late afternoon bleeding into dusk.

Rin was already walking toward the car, probably coordinating cleanup. Ran stood there for a moment, letting the cold air wash over him.

The drive back to the hotel was silent. He stared out the window watching the city blur past them.

One more night, then they could leave. The thought didn’t settle him the way it should have.

Back in his hotel room, Ran couldn’t settle.

He tried. Showered, changed clothes, paced, sat on the bed, stood again.

He felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin.

His phone sat on the nightstand. He stared at it for a full minute before he finally gave in.

Told himself it was unnecessary, she was fine. There was no reason to call.

He pulled up her contact information. He talked himself out of it. He locked his phone.

It was late anyway. Later than Ran Haitani should be calling anyone not in an emergency.

He weighed the phone in his hand. Unlocked it again. Fuck it.

The phone rang once. Twice.

His heart was beating faster than it should be. Ridiculous.

“Hello?”

Her voice hit him like physical relief. Soft, warm, slightly surprised, a little raspy like her exhaustion was catching up to her in the late hours.

His chest loosened. He exhaled slowly. Let himself sink back against the headboard. It felt like an eternity before he started talking.

“Just calling to make sure you didn’t burn down my place,” his words came out naturally after he began. It was like he hadn’t been vibrating with tension thirty seconds ago. “Heard you and Sanzu had quite the evening.”

She laughed, and the gentleness of the sound went right through him. “Your apartment is fine. Better than fine actually, Sanzu went full clean freak mode this morning.”

“Sanzu actually cleaned my place?”

“I know, right? He spent like an hour wiping down every surface before he left. I didn’t even know he knew how.”

A smile cracked his face before he could stop it. First real smile in days. The tension in his body slowly melted away just from hearing her talk about something mundane.

“Should i be worried about what you two did to require that much cleaning?”

“Mmmm, nothing you wouldn’t do,” she was still laughing, “Probably.”

“That is absolutely not reassuring.”

“We may have gotten into your whiskey. Maybe all of it.”

“I noticed.”

“Yeah, that empty bottle was kind of a giveaway.” she laughed, “but hey, Sanzu reorganized your bar cart. You’re welcome.”

He could picture it too easily. The two of them sprawled in his living room, making a mess, drinking his whiskey. Her laughing about something stupid, guard down, unthinking. The kind of comfort you only get when you feel safe enough to stop paying attention.

She felt safe in his space and the thought did something to him he wasn’t prepared for.

“How was the rest of your day?” he asked, just wanting to hear her talk, wanting her voice to keep smoothing out all of the tension within him.

“Good. quiet after he left.” she paused. “Worked a bit, made some food. Ohh– snooped around your bathroom. It’s absolutely insane, by the way.”

His attention sharpened. “Oh yeah?”

“I had to try your shower. It’s so ridiculous and unnecessarily fancy.”

The image came uninvited. Her in his shower. Water running over her skin. Her silhouette against the steam fogged glass.

His throat suddenly felt dry. An involuntary gulp interrupted his breath and he could feel his heart beating into his chest.

“And?” He kept his voice as neutral as possible.

“Amazing. Obviously.” She laughed. “I definitely used all your hot water. Worth it though.”

“I’ll try to survive.”

“Good because I'm using it again tomorrow and probably the day after that too.” 

Tomorrow. She’d still be there. In his bathroom. In his space. Using his things.

He shifted against the headboard, trying to ignore the heat pooling low in his stomach.

“Your room also has the best view” Her voice had grown softer. “I stood there like an idiot for ten minutes just taking it all in.”

She’d been in his bedroom. He didn’t know why he was surprised by this.

“It’s just a view,” he managed, a bit clumsily.

“Just a view? Ran, you can see half of Tokyo.” She yawned, soft and breathy, and he could feel her breath tiptoeing down the back of his neck and spine. “Do you actually appreciate it or are you just so used to it by now?”

He had to take a breath before answering.

“I appreciate it.”

“Good.” a pause. “So how bad’s Osaka?” Scale of one to wanting to murder someone.”

Something almost like a laugh escaped him, the irony of her question. “Murder.”

“Ouch, that bad?”

He ran his hand through his hair and took a second to respond. “I’m just ready to be done.”

“When are you back?”

“Tomorrow.”

She started telling him about her day. Something Sanzu did that made her laugh. Some ridiculous thing Koko said. And he just…listened. Actually wanted to know. Wanted every mundane and insignificant detail.

They fell into conversation easily. Too easy. Back and forth like they had been doing this for years instead of months.

Somewhere in the middle of her complaining about Koko’s latest dramatics, he realized he was hard. Her voice emanated into his ear and down every pathway in his body. The way she kept saying his name. Like it belonged to her.

The realization was almost startling.

He was hard from a conversation about spreadsheets. From her laugh, from the way she teased him, from just talking to her.

That never happened before.

He tried to focus on what she was saying. Expense reports. Something about Koko?

“-and i swear he color coded the entire thing…Ran?”

There it was again. His name.

“Yeah. I’m listening.”

“You got a little quiet…”

“I’m just tired.” The lie came automatically, even as his mind was still trying to process what this meant.

She made a soft sympathetic sound that went straight through him.

“You should probably get some rest. You’ve got more meetings tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah…”

But he didn’t want to hang up. Didn’t want to lose this - her voice, the warmth spreading through him, the way all the violence and tension from the past few days had completely dissolved the moment she answered.

This was different than before.

He had been attracted to her for a while now. Had thought about her. Had wanted to touch her. To taste her. To have her.

But this wasn’t just that anymore.

This was wanting to hear about her day. Wanting to make her laugh. Wanting her voice at the end of a long shitty day when everything else felt wrong.

This was wanting her. Not just her body. Her.

He began to realize this was something he couldn’t undo now.

She yawned again, breathy and soft bordering on a moan and it took everything not to lose his composure entirely.

This was absurd.

“You sound exhausted,” he somehow said with an even tone, despite feeling like his edges were fraying.

“A little, Sanzu kind of wore me out yesterday.”

Jealousy spiked through him, sharp and completely irrational. 

He was the one who gave Sanzu the idea to be around and keep her company while he was gone. It still didn’t mean he had to like that she had fun without him.

“You should get some sleep,” he said.

He didn’t want her to. He wanted to keep her on the phone. Wanted to picture her curled up somewhere in his apartment, voice soft in his ear.

“Yeah, probably.” But she had no intention of saying goodbye. Neither did he.

Silence stretched between them, just the sound of each others breathing on each end of the line.

“You should get some rest too.” she said finally. “Can’t terrorize people on no sleep.”

A huff of laughter escaped him, “No promises.”

“At least be nice to Rin. He doesn’t deserve whatever mood you’re in.”

“Why should I?”

“Because i like Rin.”

Something in him warmed at that. She liked his brother. She fit in with Sanzu. She belonged in his space. She was slowly becoming a part of his life without him meaning for it to happen.

Without him wanting to stop it.

“Still, no promises.”

“Ran–”

“Goodnight,” he cut her off before she could say more. Before he said something he shouldn't say.

She paused, then quietly, “Goodnight, Ran.”

The way she said his name, almost soft and intimate, made something crack him completely open.

The line went quiet. He waited, phone pressed to his ear, hoping she would say something else.

She didn’t. Just hung up.

He sat there in the silence of his hotel room, phone still in his hand, hard and aching and completely undone.

Not just physically. Everything in him wanted her.

She unraveled him without even trying. Just by being herself. He was on the verge of snapping in two and she mended him in a fifteen minute conversion. That meant something.

Eventually he stood, grabbed his cigarettes and stepped out onto the small balcony.

Osaka sprawled below him, lights glittering into the distance. A decent view. Impressive even. 

But entirely wrong.

He lit the cigarette, took a drag and stared at the skyline.

She talked about his view. How she stood there in his bedroom watching Tokyo bustle below. How incredible it was.

He wished he was looking at that view now. At her.

He took another drag, smoke curling into the cool night air. Stood there watching the wrong city stretched out beneath him.

This feeling, this wanting, it wasn’t something he could compartmentalize or ignore anymore. Wasn’t something he could control or manage or push aside when convenient.

For years he had kept himself detached. Dismantled anything that felt like it could matter before it had the chance to.

This was different. That was the problem.

He crushed the cigarette against the railing and went back inside. Didn’t bother changing, just collapsed on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

Sleep came easier than it had in days. When it did, it was with the image of her in his apartment. On his couch, in his shower, standing in front of his windows like she always belonged there.

Like she belonged in his life.

Tomorrow night he would be back in Tokyo. 

And that thought was the only thing that could make Osaka bearable for one more day.

Back in Tokyo, the apartment was empty. 

Ran stood in his living room for a few seconds, noticing the cleaned surfaces, the reorganized bar cart, evidence of her presence everywhere.

But not her.

The office then.

He didn’t text, didn’t call to confirm, just turned on his heel and headed back out.

Single track mind, focused. He just needed to see her.

The building was quieter this time of day, but he found her exactly where he expected her to be. At her desk, with Sanzu sprawled out on her couch like he owned it, saying something that made her laugh.

She looked up when Ran appeared in the doorway. And her face lit up.

“Well, well, well. Look who decided to show up,” she said, smiling and teasing. “Do you ever just…announce yourself? Or is sneaking around and appearing out of nowhere like your signature move?”

Ran leaned against the doorframe, smiling. “I like to make an entrance.”

He looked calm, composed, perfectly at ease. Internally, he was trying very hard to seem unbothered.

She was right there. Finally. After days of wanting exactly this.

“Welcome back,” Sanzu said from the couch, grinning in a way that meant he was about to be annoying. “Rin told me you tried some new negotiation tactics in Osaka. Said they were…intense.”

Rans expression didn’t change, nor did he look away from her when he responded to Sanzu, “Tried something new. Didn’t work.”

He crossed the room over to her deck and leaned against it right next to where she sat. Close.

Close enough to catch the scent of whatever perfume she was wearing. Close enough to see the way her eyes tracked him. 

She didn’t seem fazed by the proximity, never was with him.

She reached into her desk and pulled out a small box.

“Here” she said, holding it out to him. “Thought you could use this after your trip from hell.”

He knew the box before he even opened it, small and white, from a little pastry shop that had his favorite. Mont blanc…which was exactly what he found when he opened the box.

Words completely escaped him. He stared at it a second longer than necessary.

He didn’t remember mentioning it. Didn’t remember giving her a reason to know about this. And yet, she gave him this.

He closed the box slowly and looked at her.

“How did you know about this?” The question came out quieter than he meant it to.

She shrugged, smirking. “Doesn’t matter. I just figured if you survived Osaka, you deserved something decent.”

Deserved. That word stuck with him.

All he wanted to do was kiss her.

A smile spread across his face before he could stop it. “Are you hungry?” he asked instead, as casual as he could possibly make his voice. “We could grab dinner.”

He seemed smooth, controlled, like his pulse wasn’t creeping into his throat.

“Oh!” Sanzu sat up from the couch. “We should all go out. There’s this place I wanna try, supposed to be incredible. Let’s make it a thing, everyone, dinner.”

Rans jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. 

Fucking Sanzu. Of course Sanzu had plans. 

Part of him wanted to tell Sanzu to fuck off. Wanted her to himself after days of thinking about exactly that.

He let the impulse pass and thought it was actually probably better this way.

“Sure,” he said easily. “Sounds good.”

She stood, slipping her things into her bag. As she moved past him her shoulder brushed into his chest. She leaned in close, her voice dropping to a whisper, teasing. “Sanzu’s been excited about this place. Try to behave.”

His hands found her waist without thinking, feeling her warmth “You’re asking a lot of me.” 

She didn’t move away immediately, stayed there a few seconds longer than she should have, holding his gaze. Then slipped free with the smallest smile. Like she knew exactly what she had done.

She headed for the door like nothing happened. 

Sanzu was already in the hallway, loud and animated about the restaurant.

Three days of noise, of blood, of frustration, of nothing working to make him feel like he wasn’t going insane.

And she undid all of that with a phone call and a pastry.

Chapter 12

She had gone to bed with a smile plastered on her face.

Ran’s kiss was replaying on a loop in her head - the way his hand slid into her hair and pulled her closer. The rawness in his voice when he said he had wanted to do that for so long. She fell asleep still feeling his lips on hers, the kind of deep, dreamless sleep she hadn’t had in what felt like years. Just feeling safe, content and completely dead to the world.

That was why she didn’t hear her phone buzz at ten in the morning or hear the footsteps of someone coming into the apartment twenty minutes later. It was why she didn’t hear Sanzu call out “Helllooooooooooo?” from the living room, his voice echoing through the empty penthouse. 

She definitely didn’t hear him knock on her bedroom door. 

What she did hear was a disembodied voice originating way too close, cutting through her deep sleep.

“Uhhh hello? Are you alive in there?”

Her brain tried to process the voice’s familiarity but instead it focused on the proximity.

“Did Ran kill you before he left? Did you die from happiness?”

Her eyes flew open.

Pink hair, scars, a face looming directly over hers, close enough that she could see the sparkle of amusement glinting his eyes.

Before she could register what was happening or who this was, instinct took over. Her fist swung up fast, aimed straight for his face. But it stopped mid air.

Sanzu caught it without even blinking, his fingers wrapped around her wrist grinning widely.

“What the FUCK, Haru?!”

“Good morning to you too, sunshine.” he said brightly, letting go of her wrist.

She sat up, shoving hair out of her face. “You have three seconds to explain why you’re in my room before I actually hit you.”

“I texted you.” He straightened himself, crossing his arms over his chest. “You didn’t answer, I figured I would check if you were still breathing. I was concerned. Distraught, even.”

“And you decided to loom over me like a fucking serial killer?”

He let out a pleased laugh, grin spreading over his face. “Worked, didn’t it? You’re alive and awake now, because of me.”

“I almost punched you.”

“But ya didn’tttttt.” he teased, moving toward the door.

He leaned against her doorframe, crossing his arms again, looking far too entertained. “Do you even know how to fight? Awful form.”

“I was asleep.”

“More like dead.” His eyes glittered with amusement, “What, did Ran tire you out that much before he left?”

She grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at his head.

He caught it easily, grinning wider. “See? You’re meant for Bonten. Tried to assault an executive before breakfast.” He sniffled, pretending to wipe a tear, “I’m so proud.”

She rolled her eyes. “Get out of my room Haru.”

“Get dressed Rocky. We’re leaving in ten.” He tossed the pillow back.

“Leaving for where?” 

“Heh, you’ll see.” He was already walking away. “Wear something nice, we’re Bonten, we have standards.”

“That tells me absolutely nothing, Haru–”

“Ten minutes!” He called over his shoulder, not even bothering to close the door behind him.

She sat there for a second, then reached for her phone that buzzed on the nightstand.

Nine minutes now. Tik tok.

She groaned and finally threw off the blankets, stumbling out of her warm and previously comforting bed.

Wear something nice. We’re Bonten. We have standards. She mocked Sanzu's words under her breath as she stared at her closet. He had given her an aneurysm instead of info. 

Wear something nice. What did that even mean? Business meeting nice? Errand running nice? Was this even work? With Sanzu, the possibilities were limitless, could be anything from a weapons deal to grocery shopping and she genuinely couldn’t tell which was more likely.

She pulled out a few options, deciding on something in between - put together without trying too hard. Her hand landed on a piece from the new wardrobe.

Koko’s gift. Or Ran’s.

Everything reminded her of him now. The apartment, the clothes, the stupid giddy feeling from last night. She caught herself smiling at nothing and shook her head.

“Are you getting ready or writing a novel in there?” Sanzu yelled from the living room.

“It’s been five minutes!”

“Yeah, and you’ve only got five more.”

She grabbed her phone and saw the three unread texts from Ran from last night, he must have sent them after she already passed out. Her stomach did a little flip at seeing his name on the screen.

Sanzu was sprawled on the couch as usual, a common sight in the Haitani household, flipping through TV channels like he owned the place. He looked up when she walked in and gave her a quick once over.

“See? Not so hard.”

“You gave me zero useful information about what we’re doing.”

He stood grabbing his keys from the counter. “You figured it out. Proud of you.”

“Haru–”

“Come on,” he said, already heading for the elevator, “We’re burning daylight.”

She grabbed her bag reluctantly, following him. “Where are we even going?”

He glanced back over his shoulder, grinning “Oh, you’ll see.”

She groaned but followed him anyways.

She’d given up asking questions.

Sanzu made it abundantly clear he wasn’t going to tell her anything, and honestly, at this point she was just resigned to whatever chaos he was dragging her into. Bonten business, errands, a murder. She’d just find out when they got there.

The car was playing Britney Spears. 

She stared at the dashboard, “You’re kidding me.”

“What?” He didn’t look over at her.

“You. Listening to this.”

“It’s a fucking bop.” He turned it up slightly. “A classic.”

She shook her head, biting back a smile. The city slid past - Roppongi giving way to the upscale neighborhoods of Ginza. 

This was it. Whatever Bonten business he was bringing her to was happening in one of the most expensive districts in Tokyo. A collection, maybe. Or a meeting with someone important, maybe she should have dressed nicer. 

She had only just been introduced officially as Bonten. She knew what that meant, knew what kind of work they did. It wasn’t like she was naive about it. But there was a difference between knowing and seeing. And she had been carefully trying to maintain that distance.

Surely he wasn’t already dragging her into the really dark stuff, right?

Sanzu pulled into a parking spot and killed the engine. A dry cleaner.

She blinked. It was nice, upscale but it was still just…a dry cleaner.

Ok, so this is obviously a front. This is where the actual meeting is happening. 

She followed Sanzu inside, trying to keep her expression as neutral and professional as possible. Ready for whatever came next.

An older man behind the counter looked up when they walked in and recognized Sanzu immediately.

“Haruchiyo-san. Right on time.”

“Always am,” Sanzu replied, leaning casually against the counter.

The man disappeared into the back while she stood there, tense, waiting for the coded conversation, the exchange of information, the something that would explain why they were actually there.

Yet the man returned with an armful of perfectly pressed suits, laid them on the counter for Sanzu to inspect.

Sanzu barely glanced at them, “Looks good, appreciate it.”

She stared. Was he really just– no, there was no way they were just there to pick up his dry cleaning. Were they really there to pick up dry cleaning? This wasn’t code for anything? Not a collection, a payoff, anything remotely Bonten related?

Just dry cleaning.

Her brain tried to recalibrate. Sanzu, Bonten’s Mad Dog, was standing in a dry cleaner in Ginza on a Saturday morning picking up his freshly cleaned suits like a normal person. 

Her face must have advertised something because Sanzu glanced at her, eyebrows raised in amusement.

“What’s wrong with you? Never been to a dry cleaners before?”

She let out a breath that was half awkward laugh, half disbelief. “Honestly, I had no idea what today was going to be…but running errands with you, having domesticated Haru with me, was not on my list of potential scenarios.”

He snorted, pulling out his wallet, “What, did you think I was dragging you to your first hit or something?”

“I mean– honestly, I had no idea what to think.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” he said, handing over the cash. Then, to the man behind the counter, in an appreciative tone, “You’re the only place that gets blood out properly. Can’t trust anyone else.”

“Come on.” Sanzu said, already heading for the door, “We’ve got other stops.”

She followed, shaking her head. “There was no chance in hell i would have guessed this is what we were going to be up to today.”

“Yeah, well.” He carefully laid the suits in the trunk, making sure not to wrinkle them. “I do have a life outside of the office, ya know.”

Back in the car, Britney picked back up from where she’d left off.

“You being normal is weird,” she said, watching the city slide past, “I was almost relieved you mentioned bloodstains to the dry cleaner.”

Sanzu’s head whipped toward her, hand clutching his chest dramatically. “Excuse me? Weird being normal? I’m the MOST normal person in Bonten.”

She snorted, “That feels like a very low bar.”

“I’m serious!” He was grinning now. “I pick up my own dry cleaning. I run my own errands. I’m a fully functioning member of society. Meanwhile Koko has people for this shit. Won’t even get his own coffee half the time. Prissy bitch.”

She was still laughing, shaking her head. “To be fair, Koko is…well Koko.”

“And Ran’s a spoiled rich boy who’s never done his fucking laundry in his life,” Sanzu continued, clearly enjoying himself. “Total pretentious asshole. But what can ya do, that’s just how he grew up”

“Is Rin like that too?”

“Ohh, Rin.” Sanzu’s eyes lit up like he had been waiting for this. “Don’t let his whole little quiet, serious thing fool you. He’s just as bad but it’s all because he worships Ran. Will literally do anything for his big brothers approval. It’s pathetic.” He shot her a look. “Don’t tell him I said that.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Actually, do tell him. Spice things up, I could use a good fight.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You actively want Rin to try to kill you?”

“God, yes.” Sanzu’s grin turned almost hungry. “He gets soooo pissy when you call him out on his shit but then you get to watch him work, which is–” He let out a low whistle. “It’s fucking beautiful. He’s so precise, knows exactly where to hit you to make it hurt without actually killing you. It’s like–” He flicked his wrist vaguely, “It’s an art form.”

He said this with genuine appreciation in his tone.

She’d never actually seen any of them in that mode. The violence was always somewhere else, something that happened off screen while she was nose deep in spreadsheets.

“Rans completely different though,” Sanzu continued, but there was something in his voice that made her look over. “He has zero patience for Rins whole meticulous thing. He just–” he made a grabbing motion. “-takes whatever’s nearby and commits. Almost killed a guy with a brick once.” he was beaming now, “And he's usually so calm about it too. Just handles shit and moves on. Not like Rin and me - we like to play with our food, ya know?”

He paused, then his grin turned absolutely wicked.

“Actually wait– scratch that. Your old office was different.”

Her head snapped toward him, “What do you mean?”

“That was the first time in years I’ve seen Ran get worked up about something.” Sanzu looked delighted. “Usually he’s all business, but that day?” He let out a low laugh, “That day he took his time.”

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear this, yet she couldn’t stop listening.

“Some fucking loser made a comment about you,” Sanzus eyes were gleaming. “And Ran just, he didn’t even hesitate. Grabbed the guys hand and drove a knife straight through it into the table. Pinned him there like a fucking bug.”

Her breath caught.

“But that wasn’t even the best part,” Sanzu continued his story, relishing the moment. “Usually he makes his point and is done with it, but that day?” His grin widened. “He leaned in close and told him he should be grateful it was his hand and not his throat, for daring to talk about you like that.”

Sanzu laughed quietly.

“He took his time. Made sure the entire room saw, made sure that they understood exactly what disrespect costs.” He made a chef’s kiss gesture. “It was beautiful. I got to just stand there and watch. Usually I'm the one who gets to have all the fun, but Ran?” He shook his head grinning. “Man wanted that one for himself.”

She sat there quietly, watching the city blur by.

That had happened before they’d kissed. Before they acknowledged anything. Yet he had acted that way anyway.

She should probably feel guilty about someone getting hurt on her behalf. That’s at least what the old version of herself would have felt. But the old version of herself had been left for dead by people she trusted. 

Fuck them, she thought and was somewhat suprised by how easy the thought came to her.

“Okay, get out of your head,” Sanzu said, turning up the music. “I need my partner in crime back and we’ve got plenty of other stops to make.” He shot her a grin, “Annd i refuse to let you spiral about Rans little rampage before i get my sugar fix.”

“I don’t need protecting–”

“Oh, sweetie," Sanzu’s grin was full of mischief now. “I don’t think that’s really the point.”

She stared at him for a second and then turned back to the window. She wasn’t sure what to do with that.

By the time Sanzu dropped her off at the penthouse, it was late afternoon. They had hit a few more stops, errands she still couldn’t believe were real and not some elaborate bit. 

The apartment felt different when she walked in alone. Felt too quiet and empty.

She tried to settle, put on music, scroll through her phone, find something to entertain her but nothing stuck. She was so restless she didn’t know what to do with herself.

Her phone buzzed and she saw a message from Sanzu.

I’m bored, I'm coming back over. I’ll bring food and alcohol, don’t argue with me ✧｡٩(ˊᗜˋ )و✧*｡

She didn’t even hesitate.

Fine but you’re buying.

She tossed her phone on the counter, relieved to have something to do that wasn't sitting alone with her thoughts.

She heard the ding of the elevator before she heard Sanzu’s voice.

“I come bearing gifts!”

She walked over to find him with his arms full of pizza boxes and a six pack of beer dangling from one hand.

“Pizza?” She couldn’t help the grin spreading across her face.

“The greasiest, trashiest pizza I could find. Figured Ran’s not here to judge us for our poor life decisions.”

“God, I haven't had shitty pizza in soooo long.”

“I’m sure living with mister refined palate probably means you’ve been eating like, artisanal whatever the fuck he eats.” He headed for the living room. “Tonight we’re being degenerates.”

They set up in the living room, boxes spread across the coffee table, her making up plates while Sanzu cracked open two beers.

“To terrible decisions,” he said, handing her one.

“And to Ran not being here to witness them,” she added playfully, taking the beer.

They clinked the bottles.

The pizza was exactly as advertised, cheap, greasy, perfect. She was halfway through her first slice when Sanzu disappeared into another room.

“What are you doing?” she called out after him.

“Upgrading!” He emerged with a bottle of whiskey that was clearly expensive. 

She raised an eyebrow, “That looks pretty fancy.”

“Ohhhh, it's very fancy.” Sanzu was already grabbing glasses, “Which is exactly why we’re drinking it while Ran can’t stop us.” He poured two glasses with very generous amounts - more than you should typically pour for whiskey that’s meant to be savored. “God, I wish I could see his face when he realizes, it's gonna be so good.”

She took the glass he offered. “You’re really enjoying this.”

“Duhhh.” He raised his glass. “To Ran’s funding of our indulgence.”

They settled in - her on the floor with her back against the couch, him sprawled across from her, pizza boxes between them. It felt deliberately informal, almost like rebellion in this pristine penthouse. Like they were teenagers whose parents were out of town.

“Oh my god, Ran would lose his mind if he saw this right now,” Sanzu said, taking a drink. “Pizza everywhere, beer bottles, his expensive whiskey, you sitting on the floor like a little gremlin - this is perfect.”

“Good thing he’s not here then.”

“Wait wait wait–” Sanzu scrambled for his phone, eyes lighting up. “Oh this is toooooo good. Don’t move– actually, no keep eating, yea like that– perfecttttt–”

She flipped him off mid bite and he snapped the pic, cackling.

“That little bitch is gonna be pissed.” He was already typing furiously. “You look so adorable and he’s stuck in fucking Osaka while i get front row seats to you being casual.”

“Haru, do not–”

Too late.

Her phone buzzed beside her a moment later.

The photo of her he just snapped appeared in the group chat.

Sanzu: look how cute she is being a complete gremlin rn. Shes got zero manners 10/10 im having the best time and you’re missing it all – awwwww

She looked up at Sanzu, who was watching her with barely contained glee.

“You’re such a dick.”

“Have some fun for once, yo.” He took another drink of Ran’s whiskey, making a show of it.

Her phone buzzed again.

Ran: Sanzu. Ran: what the fuck are you drinking Ran: is that my yamazaki 18? Sanzu: oh yeah (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) its soooo good btw she loves it were having a great time Ran: you're a dead man. Sanzu: worth itttttttt wish you were here to see! Oh wait (⸝⸝> ᴗ•⸝⸝) Rin: stop antagonizing him Sanzu: never ♡ 

She was trying hard not to laugh but Sanzu caught her expression and pointed at her triumphantly. 

“Seeee? You fucking love this. We’re having the time of our lives and Ran’s losing his mind in some hotel room. Perfect night”

“I don’t know if he’s losing his mind”

“You sure about that?”

He grabbed another slice of pizza, relishing his shit stirring of the evening.

“Besides, I'm doing him a favor. Building character, teaching him patience. I'm basically the patron saint of longing at this point.”

“You’re delusional.”

“They laugh at all the prophets and saints,” he said with fake piety.

They were a few drinks in when Sanzu shifted, eyes glinting with that particular brand of chaos that meant he was about to interrogate her.

“Ok, sooo.” He leaned forward. “Rin was being super weird about walking in on you two. Aggressively weird. Refused to give me any details, which obviously means something good happened.” He grinned. “Spill.”

She took a slow sip of her drink, completely unbothered.

“What if i told you we fucked on my desk?”

Sanzu’s entire face lit up.

“Oh my GOD–”

“Right there on top of all my new, very important Bonten documents,” she continued, completely deadpan. “Really christened that office properly. Made sure to get use out of it immediately.”

“I FUCKING KNEW IT–wait, really? Like actually?” His eyes were huge. “Becuase Rin was being so–”

“We didn’t.” She couldn't help but laugh at the look of complete devastation that washed over his face. “We just kissed.”

He stared at her. Just, stared.

He leaned back dramatically, dragging both hands down his face like she had personally wounded him. “Just a kiss?”

“Yepp.”

“But–” he gestured wildly. “The way Rin acted, i thought for sure– like, i had a whole scenario in my head. You were at least half naked, Ran had you bent over the desk, papers everywhere, just scandalous office affair energy–”

“You have a vivid imagination, literally none of that happened.”

He looked genuinely pained. “This is the worst thing you’ve ever told me.”

“Tch, you asked.”

“I asked for tea, not…whatever this boring fucking leaf soup you’ve given me.” He took a long drink. “So Rin walked in on you two standing there like a fucking Hallmark movie and acted like he witnessed a crime?”

“Guess so.”

“That’s…” he narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Wait. Why was he so weird about it?”

She shrugged, smirking. “Maybe he's just uncomfortable with PDA?”

Sanzu opened his mouth, then closed it.

“What?” she asked innocently.

“Nothing.”

“Noooooooooooo, what were you about to say? Does Rin have a thing about PDA?” She was grinning now, sensing blood in the water. “That feels oddly specific for you–”

“We’re not talking about Rin–”

“Ok ok.” She took another drink. “It was just a boring sweet kiss. Sorry to disappoint.”

“Ugh.” He made a face. “Well what about the one before he left?”

“How– how do you know about that?”

“Rin told me–”

“When? Were you with him or did you two call each other and immediately gossip about my love life?” 

“We work together–”

“You’re always in his office, I’ve also noticed you two are together a lot.” She tilted her head. “Like, a lot a lot.”

“Ah ah ah, don’t you dare try to deflect here, missy.” He pointed at her. “We’re talking about your mess, Not mine.”

“Ohhhh, so there is a mess?”

“Stop changing the subject because you don’t wanna talk about your little smooch–”

“I never said that.” She held his gaze feeling smug, her smile growing slowly on her face. “You’re the one getting weird and defensive over Rin is all.”

He knocked back another swallow of whiskey. “We’re still talking about you. The kiss before Ran left, spill.”

She considered making him beg for the information, but was feeling more generous in her inebriated state. “That one…” She met his eyes. “Yeah, that one could have gone somewhere.”

“Finally.” He exhaled like he had been waiting for this all night. “Okay, scale of one to ten – how badly did Rin ruin your life by making Ran leave?”

“Mmmmm solid seven.”

“And Ran’s suffering level on the plane?”

She didn’t hesitate, “Conservatively? Probably a nine.”

Sanzu’s grin widened. “HA perfect, so you’re telling me Rin cockblocked you multiple times in the span of an hour? And Ran’s probably been losing his fucking mind in Osaka ever since?”

“Seems like it.”

“God, I love my life.” He raised his glass. “To Rin’s terrible timing and Ran’s eternal suffering.”

She clinked her glass against his, smiling.

The silence settled back into the penthouse slowly.

Sanzu had passed out on the other end of the couch some time around midnight, one arm flung over his face, snoring softly. 

She was still on the floor, back against the couch, legs stretched out. The pizza boxes were still open on the coffee table, grease stains soaking through the cardboard. Beer bottles scattered everywhere, the whiskey - Rans expensive whiskey - sat nearly empty beside her.

It looked nothing like the pristine showroom Ran usually kept.

She should probably clean up but she couldn't make herself move.

Instead she reached for her phone. No new messages.

Her thumb hovered over Ran’s name. She thought about texting him, she wanted to text him but what could she say?

Miss you felt too corny and honest.

Wish you could come back felt too needy and pathetic.

Your whiskey is gone felt too flippant.

She locked her phone and let it drop beside her.

The apartment was quiet except for Sanzu’s breathing and the distant hum of the city. It didn’t feel empty exactly but it definitely felt like something was missing.

Someone.

She had fun today. Laughed until her stomach hurt and her makeup ran down her face. Actually, she had a lot of fun with Sanzu.

But underneath it all there was something lingering beneath the surface she couldn’t ignore–

She wanted him there.

Not in some vague abstract way. She wanted his presence, the way he looked at her, the sound of his voice when he said her name.

He had only been gone a day and yet she missed him.

That should have scared her more than it actually did.

The old version of herself would be planning an exit by now. Finding reasons why this wouldn’t work, how this could blow up in her face with no recourse. Build walls to protect herself.

But she was tired of running, didn’t want to run from this. Decided that she was given a second chance at life and she was going to make the most of it.

Her eyes were starting to drift closed, still sprawled on the floor, surrounded by the mess they had made.

He’d be back in a few days.

She could wait.

Chapter 11

She woke to her phone buzzing on the nightstand and reached for it, blinking the sleep from her eyes as she saw the texts from Ran.

Had to take care of some business early this morning Rin will pick you up and bring you to the office Try not to have too much fun without me ;)

She stared at the winking face longer than necessary, something warm settling in her chest, pulling a smile from her this early. She set the phone down, still smiling like an idiot and went to get ready for the day.

Rin was already waiting when she came down, leaning against the driver’s side door, phone in hand looking bored.

He looked up as she approached. “I know, I know. I'm not the Haitani you were hoping to see.”

She raised an eyebrow, “Bold assumption, Rin. Maybe I specifically requested you.” She opened the passenger door. “Ever think of that?”

“Sure you did.” He slid into the driver's seat, “Next time try to sound more convincing.”

She buckled in trying not to smile, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Rin rolled his eyes and started the car.

They drove in comfortable silence for a few blocks while she watched the city blur past the windows. 

Rin broke the quiet first. “You know, he’s been different lately”

She glanced at him, “Your brother?”

“No,” he said flatly. “Takeomi.”

She huffed a laugh.

“Yes, Ran. Who else?” He flicked his eyes toward her for half a second before returning to the road. “He’s been in an unusually good mood lately.

She didn’t have a retort for him.

“Smiles more. Less of an asshole in meetings.” His tone stayed even. “Wonder what changed.”

She kept her eyes on the window, refusing to take the bait.

He didn’t push, just kept driving with the faintest hint of a smile on his face.

When the elevator doors opened to the executive floor Sanzu was already there waiting, practically vibrating with barely contained energy.

“Finally!” He pushed off the wall the second he saw her, arms spread wide. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting?”

Rin checked his watch, “It’s not even ten yet.”

“Hours. Hours.” Sanzu said with faux seriousness. “I’ve aged a decade waiting for you. Look at me, I'm withering.”

“You literally texted me fifteen minutes ago that you got here.” Rin replied.

“Time is relative, Haitani. When you move as fast as I do, time slows.” Sanzu waved him off, already moving and gesturing dramatically for them to follow. “Come, come. I have a surprise.”

“Wouldn’t it be the other way around?” Rin mumbled under his breath but Sanzu had already waltzed down the hall. 

She glanced at Rin, “Should I be afraid?” 

“Afraid?” Sanzu spun around, walking backwards. “Why does everyone always– you know what, I’m delightful.”

“Delightful…” Rin muttered.

Sanzu turned back around, ignoring him, still talking over his shoulder. “This is a gift. A gesture of friendship and professional camaraderie.”

“Now I’m definitely afraid.” She said, half laughing.

“Brrr, how cold. I’m feeling your negative energy. Rin’s clearly rubbing off on you.” He stopped walking, pointed an accusing finger at his purple haired colleague. “Cold and hostile work environment!”

“Christ, Sanzu” Rin pinched the bridge of his nose, inhaling deeply. 

“Anyway.” Sanzu clapped his hands together, refocusing. “You have no idea what I had to do for this. The strings I had to pull. I’m like a violinist!”

“You don’t pull violin strings,” Rin offered, tiredly.

Sanzu whirled on him. “Don’t. Cheapen. My. Metaphor.”

They were bickering like an old married couple and she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. “What exactly is this surprise? The suspense is actually killing me now.”

“Oh, you’re gonna love it.” Sanzu was practically jumping now. “Seriously. I outdid myself. I should win an award. Do we give awards here? We should.”

“No. We don't.” Rin confirmed.

“I’ll bring it up at the next meeting. I think I deserve employee of the month” Sanzu stopped in front of a door, turned to face her with a huge grin. “Okay. Close your eyes.”

She looked at him for a long moment, then smiled - bright and completely fake. “Absolutely not.”

Sanzu’s face fell. “You don’t trust me?”

“Not even a little.”

Rin had clearly reached his limit. “Sanzu. Open the door.”

“You’ve both lost your sense of magical whimsy.” Sanzu shook his head in mock sympathy then snapped back to grinning and flung the door open dramatically. “Ta-da!”

The office was nicer than she expected.

Floor to ceiling windows overlooked the Tokyo skyline, morning light pouring in. A large desk near the window, a couch along one of the walls, bare shelves waiting to be filled.

Luxurious but sparse. Apparently the Bonten aesthetic.

“The best nap spot outside of Ran’s office.” Sanzu announced, immediately throwing himself on the couch. “This was my sanctuary. My refuge from the chaos of daily operations.”

“Your office is literally down the hall.” Rin said.

“My office has paperwork and an assistant that asks me if I've signed things.” Sanzu scrunched his face in disgust. “Depressing. This place has ambiance, tranquility, no distractions.” He looked at her with pleading eyes. “Wherever am I supposed to go now?”

She crossed her arms, fighting a smile, “Aw, this is really tragic for you, isn’t it?”

Rin made a sound that might have been a laugh or him just dying inside. “Are we done?”

“We are not done, Rindou.” Sanzu sat straighter, offended. “This is a monumental occasion. Palatial, even. Show some deference. Where is your panache?”

“What are even these words?” Rin asked, discombobulated.

She was only half listening to them starting to bicker again.

This was hers. Her own space. 

She crossed to the window, looked out at the city stretching endlessly below. Turned back to both of them, smiling genuinely and cut through their petty argument. “This is perfect. Thank you, Haru. I really appreciate everything you did.”

He gloated, speaking to her but looking at Rin, “Ah. Of course. I knew you’d appreciate my sacrifice.”

“Truly heroic.” She crossed her arms, still smiling. “As payment for your valiant efforts, you can still steal naps in here.” She held up a finger, “As long as you’re not disruptive.”

Sanzu wiped an imaginary tear from his eye, “This is why you’re my favorite.”

Rin shook his head, but there was something fond beneath his exasperation. “Ok we’ve been disruptive enough, we’ll leave you to it.”

“Toodle-oo” Sanzu sang, already halfway down the hall. Silence filled the space. It was just her and the empty office.

She moved back to the window, pressed her palm against the cool glass.

This sparse office was a blank canvas. A representation of the life she was now living, the life that was still being written. The second chance at something she was still learning.

Two months ago she had been a different person. Smaller, quieter. The person who kept her head down and tried to be invisible.

Now she was an advisor to Bonten. Now she was learning to stop pretending to be someone she wasn’t. Someone who wasn’t constantly lying to herself.

Here, no one pretended. Would call you out on your bullshit. Would force you to be your true self.

And somehow, surrounded by men who solved problems with violence and lived in a world where mercy was a liability, she felt more honest than she had in years.

She really did like it here.

Rin’s dry humor and the way he saw through everyone. Sanzu’s theatrical tangents and the way he’s claimed her as family without asking permission. 

Ran.

Two months ago, she hadn’t known these men existed outside of rumors and whispers. Now she couldn’t imagine her life without them.

Her hand drifted to her shoulder where the scar still pulled tight beneath her shirt. The night everything changed, the night she should have died, the night that landed her here.

A cruel twist of irony that she didn’t regret for a second.

She just stood there, looking out at Tokyo, letting herself feel her happiness. For the first time in longer than she could remember, she was actually genuinely happy.

“Nice view.”

She turned, pulled from her thoughts.

Ran was leaning in the doorway, but he wasn’t looking at the skyline. 

Her breath caught - it had been doing that lately every time their eyes met. Like her body was involuntarily reaching for him without permission.

She tried to shake it off. “I think my office might be nicer than yours.”

“That’s hardly a fair assessment.” He pushed off the doorframe, moving into the room, gaze sweeping the empty space. “You got the Sanzu favoritism treatment. I had to actually work for mine.”

“Ohh, did you now?” She watched him cross the room toward her. “You really worked for it?” she teased.

“I showed up.” He leaned against her desk, and somehow made even that look unfairly good. “That counts as work.”

She bit back a smile. “You’re really setting the bar high for me.”

“Always.” 

He started opening drawers, clearly just being nosy. Found the one with basic office supplies and pulled out a stack of sticky notes, holding them up between two fingers. 

“More office supplies in here than my entire office.” He dangled them like bait, eyes glinting with amusement. “I’m sure that thrills you.” 

She walked over to him, drawn closer without quite deciding to and snatched them from his fingers.

“Don’t knock my stationery.” She set them on the desk beside where he was leaning, then poked her finger into his chest, feeling the solid warmth of him through his shirt. “Get your own, Haitani.”

He glanced down at where her finger pressed against him. Pressed himself into it and looked back up at her, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

“Territorial about your precious office supplies already?” His voice had dropped slightly.

She knew she should step back and create distance but she didn’t. “You know, I might start having Rin take me to work more often. I had a very enlightening morning.”

His eyes narrowed in assessment, his interest piqued. “Hmm, did you now?”

“Mhmm, very informative.” She watched his face, enjoying the way he was trying to figure out if she was serious. She whispered, “He told me all your secrets.”

He went still for half a second. “I’m calling your bluff.”

“You think I'm lying?” She tilted her head innocently.

“Rin wouldn’t–” He caught himself, saw that little glint in her eye. “You’ve got nothing.”

She mimed zipping her lips. “I could never betray his trust.”

“Rightttt.” But he was smiling now, seeing straight through her. His gaze dropped to her mouth for just a second before coming back up. “You’re a terrible liar.”

The casual way he looked at her lips sent heat through her.

“Rude.” She lifted her chin, refusing to give up the game. “Fine, maybe I'll reveal one little secret. Only because I'm jealous.”

“Of Rin?” He was watching her more carefully now.

“Of everyone here.” She held his gaze, refusing to look away first. “They all got to know this reckless, long haired, fashionable version of you I keep hearing about.”

Something in his expression softened.

“That version had significantly worse judgement.” he said quietly.

“Ohh, did he?”

“Considerably.” His voice dropped lower, and he leaned in slightly, just enough that she noticed. "This version has way better taste.” He smiled, gaze locked onto her.

The air between them felt too charged.

She was standing close enough to see the faint creases at the corners of his eyes when he smiled. 

She cleared her throat, forced herself to step back toward the window trying to look casual about it. “I should probably go make this place actually usable.”

“Probably a good idea.” He pushed off the desk unhurried. “And unfortunately, I have a meeting.” He headed toward the door then paused and glanced back. “But at least you have your sticky notes.”

“God forbid a girl needs a pen and paper to work in an office.” she teased.

His smile widened, “I’ll have someone take inventory later. Make sure you’re not stealing company property.”

“We’re literally criminals.”

“All the more reason to keep track of your collection.”

He held her gaze for longer than necessary, that small smile still on his lips. “See you later.”

The rest of the day passed quietly and productively. 

Koko stopped by with files. Rin appeared briefly to leave her security card on the desk, nodded once and left without a word. Sanzu sprawled on her couch a few hours later to complain about how boring his meetings had been and how no one appreciated his creative solutions to problems.

She kept working. Organizing files, responding to emails, making the space hers.

And if she glanced at the door more than necessary, waiting for someone specific to appear…well. She wasn’t really keeping track or anything.

By the time she looked up again, the Tokyo skyline had shifted into the golden hour. Everything looked soft and ethereal, her office now bathed in warm light. She stood there, letting the view settle something in her.

Today had been good. Really good.

The warmth of the sun on her face, the way the office was beginning to feel like it was actually hers, the memory of Ran leaning against her desk this morning, teasing her about office supplies with that lazy smile–

Footsteps in the hallway pulled her from her thoughts.

She turned.

Ran stood in the doorway and for a moment neither of them moved.

He was holding something. A small box, wrapped simply with a bow on top.

She raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

“Housewarming gift.” He moved into the room, and the golden light caught on him making his features softer and somehow more handsome. “Thought you could use something for that sad, empty bookshelf.”

He crossed over to where she stood and held out the box.

She took it, weighing it in her hands, trying to figure out what it could be. “Should I be worried? Is this a prank? More official hazing?”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, “Open it and find out.”

She glanced up at him - he was watching her with an expression she couldn’t read. Almost like he was uncertain. Like he had taken a gamble on whatever was in the box and was waiting to see if it would pay off.

She untied the bow, lifted the lid and stopped breathing.

Inside was a book. Nothing fancy, just a regular paperback, the kind you’d find in any bookstore.

Pride and Prejudice.

Her favorite book. The one he had teased her about mercilessly that day in her old apartment, when he had rifled through her things with that infuriating smirk.

“Figured you should have your favorite in your new office,” he said quietly.

She stared down at the familiar cover, throat suddenly tight. Her fingers traced the edges of the book, felt the crisp pages, the unmarked spine. Brand new but somehow already precious.

He remembered.

Something so small. Something so mundane. A throwaway detail from before they were even on friendly terms - and he filed it away. Kept it. Thought about it.

Thought about her.

The book blurred in her vision. She blinked hard, tried to find the words but nothing would come. Just the overwhelming weight of being seen in a way she hadn’t been in years.

Nothing came out except the soft exhale of his name. 

“Ran.”

Not Haitani. Not his last name like she had always used before, maintaining professional distance even when nothing had been professional between them for weeks now.

Just Ran.

His first name, his given name, in her voice for the first time.

The sound of it seemed to hang in the air between them.

She watched his expression change. Watched the careful control he always wore crack and give way to something raw, molten, almost helpless all at once.

He moved before she could think, closed the distance so quickly she barely registered it. Her back found the desk and he was there, solid and warm and dangerously close.

His hand came up to her face, thumb tracing her jaw, tilting her chin up until she had to meet his eyes.

Dark, burning with want that was barely held back.

“Say that again.” His voice came out rough. She could feel his breath ghosting across her lips. Close enough to make her ache with wanting.

Every instinct screamed at her to make a joke. Deflect. Step back before this thing between them became something she couldn’t take back.

But she didn’t want to take it back.

“Ran.” she whispered.

The sound broke something in him.

His thumb brushed across her lower lip - barely a touch but it sent heat spiraling through her. He traced the curve of her mouth like he was learning it by feel. Like he had been wanting to do this for so long he needed to remember the moment.

Then he kissed her.

Soft. Achingly soft. His lips warm against hers, the gentleness made her chest tighter. It was like she was something precious, something that might break if he wasn’t careful.

She could taste the tea on his tongue. Could feel his barely leashed restraint, the careful way he held her like he was afraid of wanting too much.

He gave her every chance to pull away. Tell him this was a mistake. To step back before they crossed a line they couldn’t uncross.

But she didn’t pull away.

Her hands found his shoulders, expensive fabric warm under her fingers, and she pulled him closer. Kissed him back like permission was granted. 

Something in him gave.

The kiss intensified, heat building beneath the careful softness. Desire that had been simmering for weeks finally allowed to surface. His hand slid from her cheek into her hair, fingers tangling in the strands, angling her head just so. His other hand found her waist thumb pressing her hip - light pressure that made her gasp against his mouth.

She felt him smile at the sound.

When he finally pulled back, it was just barely, forehead resting against hers, both of them breathing harder than they should be. His hand loosened in her hair to something gentler, almost like a caress.

She could feel his heart racing against her chest. Could feel her own pulse racing in her ears. Neither of them opened their eyes.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while.” He admitted quietly. His voice still rougher than usual.

“Really?” She was breathless, still tasting him on her lips.

“Yeah.” He opened his eyes and finally met hers. Something vulnerable in his expression that made her chest ache. “Since that night you came to smoke with me. Maybe before that.”

She didn’t have words for what she was feeling.

So she pulled him back down and kissed him again - brief and soft and sweet. A promise to him that this wasn’t just a moment. That there could be more later.

He smiled against her mouth, chased her lips when she pulled back. “We should probably–”

A throat cleared from the doorway.

They sprang apart.

Rin was leaning in the doorway, expression carefully neutral but eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Should I come back?” He tilted his head, considering. “Or just leave entirely? I could take a walk. Maybe to another prefecture if you need the time.”

He was enjoying this far too much. Watching his brother get caught like this, finally admitting what had been obvious to everyone else for weeks.

Ran’s jaw ticked. He straightened, tried to gather some composure even though he was looking moderately disheveled. “What do you need, Rin?”

“Mikey wants us in Osaka.” Rin’s tone stayed light but there was sympathy underneath it now. “Tomorrow morning. Our flight leaves in a few hours.”

Ran went very still. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

“Wish I was.” Rin grimaced. “Three, maybe four days.”

Ran looked like he was cycling through several responses but none of them were appropriate. Finally he just closed his eyes and exhaled hard through his nose.

“Of course,” he muttered. “Of. fucking. course.”

“Yeahhh…” Rin pushed off the doorframe. “I’ll text you the itinerary. Be ready in an hour.”

He disappeared down the hallway, footsteps fading, leaving them alone again.

But their moment had shattered.

Ran dragged both his hands through his hair, laughing - but it came out sharp and humorless. “Impeccable timing on my part. Really just…perfect.”

She couldn’t help it, she laughed too. The absurdity of it. They had been circling each other for weeks, finally crossed that line and now he was being shipped off to Osaka for a few days.

He caught her laughing and some of the frustration eased from his expression. “You think this is funny?”

“A little.” She was still smiling. “Very on brand for us actually.”

“On brand,” he repeated, shaking his head. But he was almost smiling now too. “Great. We have a brand now and it’s terrible timing.”

“It could be worse, it could be a month instead of a few days.”

He groaned, “Don’t even joke about that.”

The humor faded slowly, leaving behind something softer. He looked at her, still standing by her desk where he kissed her, golden light catching in her hair.

“I need to pack,” he said quietly. “For this extremely fucking inconvenient last minute trip.”

He moved closer, held out his hand. “Come on. I’ll take you home while I'm at it.”

She grabbed her bag and took his hand. His fingers laced through hers like it was the most natural thing in the world.

When they got back to Ran’s place, everything felt different.

Ran disappeared into his bedroom to pack and emerged 15 minutes later looking completely composed and put together again.

Except his eyes were still dark.

He set his bag by the door and turned to look at her.

“I should–” He stopped, started again. “Rin’s going to be here any minute.”

He crossed to where she stood, stopped in front of her, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes.

“Come here,” he said quietly.

She didn’t have time to respond before his hands found her waist and pulled her close.

This time when he kissed her, it felt different. There was a familiarity to it now - like in the span of one kiss in her office, he learned something essential about how they fit together.

His mouth moved against hers with purpose, unhurried despite the clock ticking down. Like he refused to let Rin’s imminent arrival rush this. He was determined to take his time even when he didn’t have it.

He was savoring this. She could feel it in the intentional way he kissed her. Like he was trying to memorize everything. The taste of her, the shape of her mouth against his, how she fit perfectly against him.

One hand slipped up her back until his fingers tangled gently into her hair. The other stayed at her waist and it made her thoughts hazy.

She felt their kiss deepen, still tender but with more heat bleeding through now. More want. His tongue brushed against her lips and she opened for him, let him in, felt the kiss transform into something that made her knees weak.

She could feel the tension in him coiling tight - his want and desire fighting with his control. His fingers would tighten slightly against her waist before loosening again. A barely restrained need in how he held her, like he was resisting the urge to pull her closer, to let this go somewhere it couldn’t tonight.

But he didn’t push.

Just kissed her like she mattered, that these stolen moments before he left were something worth savoring. Like the next few days without this, without her, were going to be impossible.

When he finally eased back, she could see a hint of frustration in his eyes.

His phone buzzed. Probably Rin, waiting downstairs.

He pulled back reluctantly, grabbed his bag. At the door he paused, looked back at her one more time.

“Try not to miss me too much,” he was trying to sound light but she could see the effort it took for him to walk out the door.

She stood alone in his home, the space feeling too quiet and empty now.

She touched her lips still tasting him. Could still feel the ghost of his hands. Hear his voice rough and wanting.

She laughed softly to herself and shook her head.

Shit. She was in way over her head.

Chapter 10

She stepped out of the guestroom and the conversation stopped.

The green dress caught the light differently here than it had in the mirror. She’d chosen elegant heels that made her taller and a necklace that drew the eye. It felt like war paint for a different kind of battle.

All three of them were waiting.

Sanzu saw her first and shot out of his lazy sprawl, crossing the room like he spotted a new favorite toy.

“Bon-teeeeen’s litttttlee men-acccce,” he pronounced the words like a ring-side announcer, stopping a few steps away from her and taking her in openly. 

She glanced past him at the rest of the room. “Not sure that’s accurate, given the steep competition in this room currently.”

He waved her comment away but his smile widened, “You’re the little kind. The most dangerous”

“Dangerous?” she huffed.

“Devestatingly.” His eyes gleamed with something manic and delighted. “The one that makes men forget what they were saying halfway through a sentence.” He said it matter-of-factly. “They think it’s chemistry. Connection. Fate, even!” He grinned, “Their brains shut off and they call it destiny.” He pointed at her, “That’s a whole different breed of menace.”

From the couch Rin sighed. “Here we go again.”

Sanzu leaned in closer, voice dropping lower like he was conspiring something with her. “By tonight, you’ll have a fan club. Lawyers, allies, some idiot with a drink who is way out of his league that suddenly thinks you’re the solution to all his problems.” He looked genuinely thrilled by this prospect. “And they’re all going to embarrass themselves trying to win your favor.”

Ran made a quiet sound - something between a laugh and irritation.

“This sounds exhausting.” she stated with a bored tone.

Sanzu continued, unbothered. “So here’s the game plan. If any man tries to sweep you off your feet today, remember it’s a long con. Every. Single. Time. He wants something.” His smile sharpened, “And when that happens, I get to handle it. Consider it my entertainment for the evening.”

“Haru–”

He straightened suddenly, eyes lighting up. “Actually – we should practice. Can’t have you going in completely unprepared.”

“Practice what exactly?”

“The con of delusional men, obviously.” He was already moving, taking her hand, like they were the two leads of a play. “I’ll be the charming businessman who thinks he’s different. You be the appropriately unimpressed vixen of Bonten.”

Before she could protest, he bowed – deeply and absurdly, like some period drama villain – and pressed an exaggerated kiss into her knuckles.

She stared down at the top of his head in disbelief. “Are they actually going to do this?”

“God I hope not, first of all that would be so embarrassing for them, second of all, I would have to kill them for involving you in something so lowbrow.” Sanzu popped back up, grinning like he just won a prize. “I just wanted to see if I could pull it off. For research.”

Rin’s voice cut through, “You didn’t.”

“Dis uh gree, Rinny Rin. I was very convincing.” He released her hand with a flourish. “See? Now when someone tries it for real, you’ll know it’s complete bullshit.”

Despite her nerves, she laughed. Sanzu’s antics once again made her feel at ease and gave her the confidence boost she needed to take on the day.

Sanzu looked too pleased with himself. “There, you’re ready.”

She shook her head, smiling and finally let herself look at Ran.

He had been watching the entire exchange from the couch - one arm draped along the back, posture deceptively relaxed, his mouth in a sly smile like he was thoroughly amused with the performance she and Sanzu just concluded. When her eyes found his they still glowed with amusement but felt warmer than usual.

That new warmth made her pulse race a bit.

“You look good,” he said.

Her stomach did a little flip at his compliment. “Thanks.”

She kept her tone even, like his voice hadn’t slipped straight under her skin. Like she hadn’t spent the better part of last night replaying the way his hands had felt on her waist, the look in his eyes when he’d almost crossed a line.

She had a pretty good idea of what this dress was doing to him. But she also had meetings. Introductions. An entire day of being the new face of Bonten. 

Falling apart over Ran’s compliments was not on the agenda.

Sanzu’s attention snapped between them, “Interesting.” Sanzu leaned forward, grinning. “This is fascinating. You’re back to being coherent. Sentences, eye contact, compliments without short circuiting.” He patted Ran on the shoulder, “Glad to see you’re back, buddy.”

Rin checked his watch, “We’re going to be late.”

Ran stood, reaching for his jacket. Charcoal suit, crisp white shirt, lavender tie that dragged the ink at his throat into view. Violence, dressed well and completely at ease.

He moved past her toward the door, his hand finding the small of her back.

Heat bloomed from that single point of contact. She had felt Sanzu’s hand just moments ago - playful and warm. This was different.

“Let’s go.” Ran said quietly, already guiding her forward. “We’re on a schedule.”

She followed, hyperaware of his palm pressed against her, the way she desperately wanted to lean into his touch.

She forced herself to focus - remind herself that today was not about this.

The elevator door shut. In the mirrored walls she caught her reflection - she looked poised, composed and confident.

By the second introduction, she understood the choreography of it. 

Names were offered, hands were shaken, eyes moved to Ran first then slid to her.

She stopped counting how many times it happened and started to watch who bothered to hide their surprise that she was among their ranks. 

Ran stayed close to her, half a step behind in doorways, beside her in booths and at tables. Never hovering and never speaking for her.

When he introduced her - “our financial advisor” - his tone conveyed a mere fact. A fact that would entertain no questioning. The room could catch up or fall behind, he didn't seem to care which.

Some caught up quickly. Others didn’t.

The ones who didn’t always give themselves away - smiled too hard, looked past her as if someone more important might materialize, directed questions toward Ran that were clearly meant for her.

She answered them anyway.

Never raised her voice or made herself abrasive, just corrected them calmly and let her smile and silence do the rest.

One man laughed - caught and flustered - then actually listened when she continued.

Ran noticed the way she held herself, always standing her ground politely but firmly, commanding the attention of these men with natural grace.

His hand always seemed to find the small of her back whenever they moved to the next topic. He didn’t look at her when he did it and she stopped tensing when it happened. But she felt it and started noticing every time his hand left.

Somewhere between the third and fourth meetings, the underestimation softened.

She quickly learned the rules of the rooms - when to lean forward, when to sit back and let someone talk themself into a hole, when to offer a solution that looked like a helping hand but left Bonten with exactly what they wanted.

She never gloated and never left looking smug or victorious. Just dismantled with poise and moved on.

Ran watched her closely: The tilt of her head when someone wasn’t telling the truth - slight, like she was giving them one more chance before she had them cornered,  the pause before she spoke - it made the men lean in without realizing they were doing it, the way her hands stayed still. He noticed how the small details reverberated throughout the room. By the time her “subjects” noticed, the conversation already belonged to her.

Once a man laughed at something she suggested. Indulgently and dismissively, he told her how they were used to doing things. She smiled back and let him finish. Then, politely, she asked him to explain how he dealt with specific scenarios she conjured as known problems from previous experience.

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Stumbled over a few words, and closed it again. The silence that followed was exquisite. 

Ran lifted his drink slowly, taking a long sip. His jaw tightened his giddiness out of him. Watching her do that did something to him and he could not let it show.

By the time evening settled over the city, her shoulders didn’t ache from holding them too tight. She listened with confidence, spoke without second guessing herself. She was another person at the table, and it felt right.

At some point, Ran noticed that watching her work no longer felt impressive. It had become something else entirely - something that tightened his chest and caused his focus to slip from his grasp.

More than once, he lost track of what the person across the table was saying.

She caught him staring, held his gaze with open curiosity, then smiled and turned back to the conversation.

His hand tightened around his glass. He didn’t look away as quickly as he should have.

When the restaurant owners invited them to stay for dinner, Ran agreed without hesitation. Not because the food would be good or because it was a strategic decision. 

He simply wasn’t ready for the day to end yet.

And the small smile she sent his way suggested she wasn’t either.

Dinner had softened into something quieter.

The plates were mostly cleared, conversations fractured into smaller groups. Sanzu’s voice somewhere to her left, the restaurant owner laughing at something she stopped paying attention to minutes ago.

She was aware of Ran beside her that made it hard to focus on anything else.

His arm resting along the back of her chair. Not touching her but close enough that she could feel the phantom warmth of it against her bare shoulders. Under the table his knee found hers. The contact brief at first but then it lingered. But neither of them moved away.

“You do this thing,” he said quietly.

She turned toward him and realized how close he was - close enough to catch the scent of cigarette smoke and wine. Close enough to see the candlelight reflecting in his eyes.

“What thing?”

“So, when someone’s lying to you.” His gaze stayed steady on her face. “You tilt your head. Just a little. Like you’re giving them just one more chance to come clean.”

Heat crawled up her neck. “I do?”

“Every. Time.” Something in his expression softened and made him look more exposed.

She could feel her heart begin to pick up the pace. “What, were you counting or something?” She teased.

“Mmm, sort of.” His knee pressed more firmly against hers, deliberate now. “Kinda lost track of how many times it happened.”

His admission caught her off guard.

“And then, you just stop and wait,” he continues, voice dropping lower, like he’s been holding this in all day and he finally has permission to confess. “Just long enough that they start talking faster to fill the silence.”

He paused and she saw his jaw tighten fractionally.

“Then you say something so eerily calm.” He smiled, “And they don’t realize it’s over for them.”

She couldn’t help but openly stare at him now. He had been watching her closely. All day. Cataloging the small movements she didn’t even know she made.

“I- I didn’t know I even did that.” she said quietly.

The space between them had narrowed even more without her noticing. Her shoulder brushed against his chest as she shifted in her chair and she realized she had turned toward him fully now. The rest of the restaurant faded into soft background noise - the clink of glasses, distant laughter, the sound of conversations that didn’t matter.

“How long have you been paying that much attention?” She tried to sound light, but her voice cracked slightly, giving her away.

“All day.”

Her breath caught at how honest he was. She could feel the heat radiating from where his leg pressed against hers under the table, hidden from view but impossible to ignore. His fingers on the back of her chair had drifted closer - she could feel them now, warm against her shoulder blade, just barely touching but the contact made her hyper aware.

“You were really good today,” he said. Then quieter, like he needs her to understand. “You’re really good at this”

It’s not smooth. It sounded like something he had been thinking for hours and just now found the words for.

Her throat felt tight. “Thank you. That–” She stops, tries again. “Thank you.”

Neither of them looked away.

The candlelight made everything feel more intimate - feeling the warmth of him, seeing the way his eyes had gone darker and completely focused on her.

This was different from last night. This somehow felt slower, softer.

His hand shifted on the back of her chair, fingers brushing her shoulder - barely there, warm against her bare skin. And she didn’t pull away.

The world around them felt even more distant. She could hear her own heartbeat, could feel the exact point where his knee rested against hers, could see the moment his gaze dropped to her mouth before returning to her eyes.

“Okay, so are we doing dessert after or what?” Sanzu’s voice cut through the haze they were caught up in, loud and completely unbothered. “Because I’m making executive decisions if no one speaks up in the next five seconds.”

The moment they shared had started to fade away. Ran slowly slid his hand away from her shoulder and she felt the loss of warmth immediately. 

He reached for his water and took a drink, like he was working to pull himself back together.

She exhaled and realized she was holding her breath without knowing it.

“Let’s get dessert,” she said, turning toward Sanzu even though it took effort to look away from Ran. Her voice came out steadier than it felt. “Before you start being too dramatic.”

“Dramatic?” Sanzu exclaimed, with theatrical flourish, “I shall suffer no besmirching of my good name. Rindou, my katana!”

When she glanced back at Ran he was still looking at her.

His expression looked more carefully composed but his hand was now resting on the table beside hers, closer than it needed to be. Close enough that if either of them moved their fingers, even slightly, they would touch.

Something changed between them. Not dangerous yet…but close.

They stood while the rest of the table stirred around them. Jackets gathered, chairs scraping softly against the floor. Dinner had ended but the night hadn’t quite finished yet.

She noticed his tie before she thought about what she was doing.

It was askew, just slightly crooked, no longer sitting perfectly centered. On anyone else it wouldn’t have registered. But on Ran, with his careful composure and expensive suits, it felt wrong.

“Your tie’s crooked,” she said and her hands were already moving to fix it.

He went still.

She stepped closer, fingers finding the silk of his tie, warm from his body heat as she adjusted it. She could feel him breathing, the slight rise and fall of his chest under her hands. Focus on the tie, she told herself, suddenly aware of what she was doing. 

Her thumb grazed the bare skin of his throat.

Ink just visible where his collar opened, the delicate edge of the Bonten symbol peeking out beneath his shirt. It felt like stumbling into something she wasn’t meant to see this close.

“Sorry,” she murmured, though her hand stayed exactly where it was. “I just…I’ve always wondered what they actually look like. Your tattoos.”

Her voice came out softer than she intended. “I always see the edges but never the whole–” She trailed off, aware of what she was saying.

Ran hadn’t moved. His dark eyes were fixed on her. His breathing had slowed, like he was concentrating hard on staying still.

When he spoke, his voice came out lower than it had been all evening. “They go down my whole left side.”

He paused. She could feel his pulse under her fingertips.

“Almost a mirror image of Rin’s.”

“I know that part,” she said softly. 

He swallowed. The tattoo shifted beneath her thumb.

“If you wanted to see them,” he said carefully, each word chosen deliberately, “I could show you.”

She looked up at him, and found him already watching her. Her breath caught.

“Heeeey, you two.” 

Sanzu’s voice was suddenly right next to her. He’d drifted up beside them without making a sound. “If you’re done staring deeply into each other's eyes like that,” he added, amused. “Dessert is waiting down the street.”

Ran straightened slowly. Her hand fell away, now feeling awkward and painfully aware of where it had just lingered.

Across the room, Rin caught Ran’s eye, raised one eyebrow. Ran stiffened and averted his gaze.

He reached for his jacket with the same careful composure that he wore like a second skin but she caught the tension underneath. The way his hand paused for just a fraction of a second too long, like he needed to reassemble himself before moving on.

The cool night air hit her flushed skin and it was a relief after the warmth of the restaurant. Sanzu stretched dramatically, arms over his head. “God, if i had to listen to one more fucking guy explain basic microeconomics like he invented them, i was going to start shooting people.”

“Glad you didn’t.” Rin said flatly. “I have enough paperwork.”

Before she could respond, Sanzu was there - sliding into her space with zero subtlety, hooking his arm through hers.

“Ma’am,” he announced, patting her hand. “Your security escort is here.”

She laughed, startled. “Is this for my benefit or yours?”

“Yours. Obviously.” He looked deeply serious. “You’re too powerful now.”

“Huh? What do you mean.”

“You made a grown man actually apologize to you publicly.” He squeezed her arm. “I’ve never seen that happen with a woman. Ever.”

She smiled at the praise, “I thought you were going to jump across the table when that guy laughed at me.”

“I was this close.” Sanzu held up his fingers, millimeters apart. “But then you just…smiled at him as he died inside at your questions.”

She shook her head, grinning despite herself. “I wasn’t enjoying it.”

“Yeah buttttt he didn’t know that.”

Behind them, Rin snorted. “You’re being a horrible influence.”

“I’m fostering the Bonten talent,” Sanzu corrected.

She glanced back over her shoulder.

Ran walked a few steps behind, hands in his pockets, watching them with an expression of fond amusement. When their eyes met, his eyes softened and she caught a ghost of a smile before he looked away.

The walk to the dessert shop was short, maybe less than two blocks. The cafe sat tucked between bookshops. The warm light from the shop spilled out onto the pavement.

Sanzu made a sound of pure joy. “There it is, my salvation.”

Inside smelled like sugar and coffee and something buttery that made her stomach want more despite just finishing dinner.

The person behind the counter looked up and smiled. “Haruchiyo-san, the usual?”

“No! Surprise us,” Sanzu said immediately.

Rin grunted in annoyance beside them, “Feeling spontaneous?”

“I believe in their vision,” he announced grandly.

They slid toward a corner booth - small, intimate, the kind of space where personal space ceased to exist. 

Sanzu got there first and patted the seat beside him decisively. “Here, sit.”

She slid in. Ran hesitated for half a second before taking the seat directly across from her. Rin took the seat beside his brother looking between them with barely concealed amusement.

When the plates arrived, Ran’s entire demeanor shifted. His attention zeroed in on the dessert in front of him with almost childlike focus as he picked up his fork. Like this mattered more than the business meetings today.

“You really like this place, huh?” she said.

“It’s pretty great.” Ran said simply, already cutting into his dessert with care.

Rin made a sound of disgust. “You two keep the lights on here. I don’t get it-”

Sanzu’s fork froze midair. “If you slight this place, I’m throwing you through the window.”

“It’s cake.”

Sanzu gestured with his fork. “You have no appreciation for–”

“What? Sugar?” Rin mocked.

“It’s art.”

Ran didn’t look up from his own plate but he smiled, “You’re both being dramatic now.”

Sanzu ignored him, taking another bite with exaggerated appreciation. “This cheesecake is why I am even able to remotely tolerate you both.”

She laughed. These were men who spent their days conducting business she would probably not want the full details of. Yet here they were, cramped in a tiny cafe past midnight, genuinely arguing about pastries. 

The absurdity of it all made the last of her tension finally leave her body.

She took a bite of her own dessert, let the sweetness linger. Ran caught her eye across the table, his expression calm and content. 

Under the table, his knee pressed lightly against hers.

The conversation drifted pleasantly. She felt warm, existing in this moment with them.

Eventually the cafe started to close up shop, ironically Rin paid the tab and they headed back into the cold night air.

She pulled her jacket tighter around her shoulders as they walked back toward where the car was parked. Ran fell into step beside her, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating off of him despite the cold air between them.

“Today was fun.” he said quietly, just for her.

She looked at him and his impossibly handsome profile under the streetlight that still caught her off guard even after spending the entire day with him.

“Yeah,” she agreed softly, a small smile blooming across her face. “It really was.”

His hand found the small of her back for the final time. It stayed there longer than it needed to - long enough for her to feel the weight of it, the deliberate pressure of his palm. Long enough when he finally let it fall away when they neared the car, the absence felt intentional too.

She could still feel it as she got into the car and the ghost of his touch stayed with her. 

All the way home.

Chapter 9

She woke to an empty apartment. His bedroom door stood open down the hall, the space beyond it was cold and undisturbed. She surmised he had been gone for hours based on the quality of silence, the way the air settled into itself feeling undisturbed by his passing scent.

She found cigarettes in the kitchen.

Peach. The terrible ones she mentioned, sitting on the counter with a note beneath them, his neat handwriting stark against the white background of the torn paper.

In case you decide to quit again.

She traced the letters with her fingers, a small smile pulled on the corner of her mouth. He had listened and remembered. He had gone out of his way.

She made coffee and took both out to the balcony.

The cold bit immediately, sharp and bracing. Early morning Tokyo stretched below in muted colors, nothing like the gentle glow of last night. She lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply.

Pure nostalgia flooded her senses. Peach, sweet and artificial, exactly as she remembered. Softer than his foreign cigarettes.

For a moment, it almost worked.

The taste was right. The morning was clear and cold, but she was alone and somehow that made everything else irrelevant.

She took another drag anyway, tried to find the comfort she had been chasing. But the peach flavor suddenly felt wrong, too sweet. The cigarette tasted like what it was, just a habit. Not a conversation or a shared confession under smoke and stars.

Just nicotine and artificial peach and the hollow feeling of doing something that had only mattered because of who she had done it with. Attaching meaning to something that should have stayed meaningless.

It was almost like he was the bad habit, not the cigarette.

Damnit.

She stubbed it out halfway down.

Maybe she really should quit, for real this time.

She stayed a moment longer, letting the cold clear her head. Her fingers found the note in her pocket and the irony made her laugh. He had given her permission to restart a vice and she couldn’t even enjoy it properly.

She went back inside and set the cigarettes down on the counter exactly where he had left them.

She was rinsing her coffee mug when he spoke behind her.

“Didn’t hear me come in?”

She jumped slightly, turning toward his voice. Ran stood in the kitchen doorway, jacket slung over his arm - no tie today, shirt unbuttoned at the collar. His hair fell across his face in purple black strands - not his usual careful styling, just pushed back and left to fall where it wanted.

He looked like he had been working somewhere already and was looking vastly less put together than usual.

“You’re sneaky.” she said, setting the mug in the sink.

“One of my many talents.” He crossed to the counter, pulled two envelopes from his jacket before draping it over a chair. Set them down on the counter between them - one slim, one noticeably thick.

He leaned back against the opposite counter, maintaining distance, arms crossed loosely. Trying to look relaxed.

“Payday,” he said.

She picked up the slim envelope first. Official letterhead, direct deposit notification. The number made her pause - higher than she had expected, even for the legitimate paycheck that usually existed only for tax purposes.

The second envelope was heavy in her palm. She opened it and stopped.

Cash. Thick stacks, rubber banded, the kind of amount that changed things. She didn’t count it, the weight alone told her this was more than she made in six months at her previous job.

“This is–” she looked up at him. “This is way too much.”

“We know what you’re worth. Whether you see it or not.” The edge of his mouth pulled into a slight smirk, that familiar edge creeping into his voice. “Besides, can’t have you showing up to–”

He stopped, ran a hand through his hair and the strands fell back across his face when he dropped his arm.

“Anyway.” He abandoned whatever he had been about to say. “You earned it.”

She stared at him. That wasn’t– he didn’t do that. Didn’t start sentences he couldn’t finish.

“Koko’s coming at noon,” he continued, already reaching for his jacket. “He’ll take you shopping. Make sure you look the part.”

He shrugged into it, hands adjusting the lapels longer than necessary. 

“I’ve got meetings. Back to back.” He glanced back at her, something flickering in his expression that disappeared before she could register. “Just wanted to drop those off.” 

He paused, “Don’t spend it all-”

The joke was forming, she could see that look on his face that usually preceded something designed to throw her off balance.

But he cut himself off, touched the back of his neck briefly. “Just…enjoy it. Alright?”

The delivery fell completely flat.

She kept staring, trying to figure out what was happening. He wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“Right.” He was already moving toward the elevator. “Noon. Don’t keep Koko waiting.”

The doors opened and he stepped inside.

The apartment fell into silence again.

She looked down at the envelopes in her hands. The weight of cash she’d never negotiated for, never discussed. They had assessed her value without asking and given her more than she would have thought to request.

And Ran - who made everything look effortless, who weaponized charm in a way that was second nature - had just fumbled through an entire conversation. Started jokes he couldn’t finish. Maintained distance like proximity might burn him.

Left before she could get a word in.

She set the envelopes beside the cigarettes on the counter. Both gifts he couldn’t quite commit to. Given and then fled from.

He had looked just slightly off. Human in a way he usually wasn’t, unpolished in places that were always perfect. Like something had changed and he hadn’t figured out how to work around it yet.

She didn’t know what to think of that. Didn’t know what to do with what just transpired. How he looked like he wanted to stay but couldn’t figure out how.

The money sat heavy in her hands. Proof she was worth something...And he had left before she could even thank him.

She had gotten herself ready, expecting to leave with Koko shortly.

Showered. Dressed in her nicest outfit - something that had felt adequate before but now registered like a sad attempt at class while standing in Ran’s penthouse. She tried to make herself look presentable. Presentable enough for an outing with an executive, at least.

The elevator chimed exactly at noon, he was punctual as ever.

Koko stepped out looking like the embodiment of wealth - long burgundy coat, black beneath it from head to toe, white hair swept back to reveal the Bonten tattoo etched across his scalp. Gold gleamed at his throat and fingers catching the light with every delicate movement.

“Ready?” she asked, grabbing her bag.

Koko stopped. Looked at her bag, then at her, eyebrows raised. “Ready for what?”

“To…go shopping?”

“Go–” He looked genuinely taken aback. “You thought I was taking you shopping? Like, to a store? In public?” He pressed a hand to his chest with exaggerated offense. “Do I look like I stand in dressing rooms waiting for people to try things on?”

“I just assumed–”

“Well stop assuming. It’s embarrassing.” He gestured behind him as the elevator chimed again. “I don’t go to stores, they come to me.”

A woman emerged with garment bags. Then a man wheeling racks of clothing. 

She stared.

“What did you think this was?” Koko moved past her into the living room, shedding his coat with casual disdain. “A cute little shopping trip? Strolling through Ginza together, trying things on, asking salespeople for opinions?” He turned to look at her. “You need to stop being so naive. This is your life now. Get used to it.”

“Kind of hard to get used to something I’ve experienced for all of–” she checked an imaginary watch, “-a month.”

His mouth twitched, almost a smile. “Fair. But you’re a quick study in everything else. Apply that here.”

His team worked silently in the background, quickly transforming Ran’s living room into something resembling a private boutique.

“And for the record,” Koko continued, settling onto Ran’s couch like he owned the place, “you should embrace this. Stop apologizing for having access to nice things.” He crossed one ankle over his knee. “You’re Bonten. Act like it. Be snobby, be demanding. You’ve earned it.”

“So you want me to become insufferable? Like you?” She teased.

“Exactly like me,” he said without missing a beat. “Insufferable people get what they want. Apologetic people are weak and get walked over.” He gestured to the racks. “Now go try those on before I regret doing you this favor.”

“Some favor, you’ve been insulting me since you walked in.”

“I’m shedding light on your naive ways. Don't confuse them.” He pulled out his phone, already bored with the conversation. “And you’re welcome.”

She bit back a smile and headed toward the guest room to change.

This was a different level of wealth entirely. She thought she understood what working for Bonten meant. The kind of money that moved through their organization. 

She’d been wrong. Very wrong.

Maybe crime wasn't so bad, she thought, watching hundreds of thousands of yen in designer clothes casually brought into a penthouse she was living in rent free.

She emerged in the first piece he handed to her, already feeling uncertain.

Koko barely looked up from his phone. “No, next.”

“You didn’t even-”

“I looked enough.” He waved dismissively. “Everything makes a statement, this one says ‘please don’t notice me’.” He mocked, then looked at her properly. “We’re not doing that anymore.”

The stylist handed her another option.

“Better,” Koko said when she returned. “But boring. You need to look like you own the room.” He tilted his head. “Think of this as portfolio management. We’re maximizing our visible assets.”

“Is everything about money with you?”

“Usually.” He didn’t sound apologetic. “People who say money doesn’t matter are usually broke or lying. Or both.”

She tried on three more pieces while Koko provided running commentary - sharp, sarcastic, occasionally brutal but never quite cruel. The stylist worked silently, adjusting based on his feedback while Koko stretched across Ran’s couch like a bored cat.

“You know,” he said, examining his nails with dramatic disinterest, “Ran suggested this whole thing.”

She paused. “The makeover?”

“Mhm. Said you needed to look the part now that you're official.” His gaze stayed on his hands, but something in his tone carried a hint of mischief. “He was very specific about it actually. Insisted I handle it personally.”

“That’s…considerate of him.”

“Considerate.” Koko repeated the word slowly. “I guess that's one way to put it.” He glanced at her finally. “He’s particular about things he considers valuable. Doesn’t like seeing them presented carelessly.”

“It’s just professional investment–”

“If you say so.” A faint smile tugged at his mouth. “But Ran Haitani doesn’t usually micromanage wardrobe choices for ‘professional investments.’ Just saying.”

She felt her face warm slightly. “You’re reading into things.”

“Ohh am I?” He looked genuinely amused now. “Or are you trying very hard not to?”

“You’re really enjoying making this weird, aren't you?”

“Immensely,” he said without shame. “It’s the little pleasures in life. Next outfit.”

She came out wearing a dark green dress. Forest green - lush and deep in a way that read expensive without trying. Sleeveless, structured bodice, mid length that would hit her mid calf. The neckline sat low enough to bare her collarbones, suggestive without being too revealing.

When she caught Koko's eye, he went still. Looked at her properly for the first time, as though something had just clicked into place.

“Stop.” he said quietly.

He stood, circling her once - slowly assessing her from every angle.

The dress fit her like it had been tailored to her body. Emphasizing her waist, the length somehow elongating her legs. But it was the neckline that transformed everything - the exposed shoulders, the delicate line of her collarbones, the hollow at her throat where her necklace settled perfectly.

The stylist draped a tailored coat over her shoulders, completing the look.

“That’s it.” Koko said. “This is the new you.”

She barely recognized the woman staring back at her in the mirror.

The deep green made her skin luminous, drawing attention in all the right places. Polished enough for boardrooms, cut in a way that stayed with someone long after she left.

For the first time, she looked like she belonged in the rooms she entered - moving with the same authority as the Bonten men who occupied them.

Koko tilted his head, studying her with interest. “You know,” he said casually, “green and purple are complementary colors. Basic color theory. They enhance each other.”

She met his eyes in the mirror, waiting.

“Most Bonten executives favor purple,” he continued, his tone still light, too casual to be accidental. “Ran especially. You’ll look great together.” He held a smile with barely contained amusement, “From a branding perspective, of course.” 

She wanted to argue with him but couldn’t find any words that wouldn’t sound defensive.

“Wear that today,” he decided. “We’re taking everything else too.”

“Everything?”

“Did I stutter?” He looked at her like she asked something stupid. “You think i would go through all of this effort for a capsule wardrobe? We’re building an entire image here.”

“This has to cost–”

“-nothing you need to worry about,” He lit a cigarette, exhaled toward the ceiling. “It’s a business expense. Ran’s order, actually. ‘Make sure she has everything she needs’.” He mimicked Ran’s voice without even trying.

“Koko–”

“He’s very particular about details,” Koko said, then finally looked at her. “Especially when it’s something he’s personally invested in.”

She didn’t respond.

“They’ll be back soon.” He stood, stretched lazily and reached for his coat. “Perfect timing. I should get going.”

“Wait, you’re leaving?”

He moved toward the elevator, “You don’t need me here. You look the part now.”

The stylist finished while Koko waited by the elevator.

“Stop overthinking everything.” he said. “You’re smart enough to read the room. When someone has a deep personal interest in things-” He paused, smiling faintly. “You do the math.”

Before she could respond, the elevator dinged.

Ran stepped out first, Rindou and Sanzu trailing close behind. They all slowed when they saw the setup being wheeled away. Koko standing by the elevator looking entirely too pleased with himself. And her, standing there in that dress.

Koko’s smile widened, “Speak of the devil.” He looked directly at Ran. “Did what you asked. She’s all set.”

A flicker of discomfort crossed Ran's face - like he hadn't expected Koko to announce it quite so directly, in front of everyone.

“Appreciate it,” Ran said, keeping his voice as neutral as possible.

“Oh, I’m sure you do.” Koko’s tone dripped with implication.

Ran’s jaw tightened, just slightly.

Before she could catch the rest of Koko and Ran’s exchange, Sanzu was already moving toward her.

“Oh shiiiit.” His face lit up like he had just witnessed a miracle. He crossed the room in a few strides.

Koko caught her eye from the elevator, that smug smile still in place. “Send me the expense report,” he said to Ran, stepping inside. “And you’re welcome.”

She turned her attention back to Sanzu who was assessing her. He circled her once whistling low. “Look at you." he said, "Koko created a fucking weapon.”

“Should I take that as a compliment?”

“Uh, Yeah. You look like you could ruin a dude’s entire life while he thanks you for it. Incredible. Terrifying. I might be scared of you right now- In a good way.”

He took a step back, looking her up and down.

“And heels?” he clutched his chest like he had been shot, “You’re in heels now? Absolutely not. I can’t handle this. Run away with me.” He extended his hand with the same theatrical flourish of a prince rescuing a young maiden. “We’ll start a business where you step on people for money. We’ll bleed ‘em dry and then blackmail them.”

“I’m still not sure if you’re complimenting me or–”

“I’m talking premium rates!” He spun to Ran and Rindou, “Right? Back me up here. Tell her she looks dangerous.”

“She was always dangerous,” Rindou said, eyebrows raised in clear approval. “But now she looks the part.”

Ran had gone very still. Not his usually relaxed lean. He looked as though he was holding himself in place through sheer will.

His gaze tracked over her - slowly taking in every detail, the way the dress moved when she breathed, how it changed how she held herself, her presence.

She felt the weight of his attention like heat, making her acutely aware of every exposed inch of skin.

He wasn’t saying anything. Just looked at her like he had forgotten how to do anything else.

“Ran?” Sanzu prompted. “A little help here?”

Ran blinked. Seemed to remember himself. “Yeah,” he said finally “Looks good. Very professional.”

Sanzu stopped mid gesture. “Professional?” He looked at Ran like he had lost his mind. “What profession are we talking about here? Femme fatale?” He gestured at her making sure Ran was seeing the same thing he was. “She just stepped out of a fucking noir film and you said professional?”

Rindou laughed out loud, his amusement taking over his usually calm and collected demeanor.

Ran looked annoyed, “It’s appropriate for meetings–”

“Very professional. This fucking guy. ” He rolled his eyes, turning back to her. “Ignore him. He’s clearly having a stroke or something. Now- what was I saying before he ruined the moment?”

He launched back into a spiel on how she could seduce state secrets out of anyone, but she caught Rindou still watching his brother with that teasing smile.

Ran made himself a drink, focusing his attention elsewhere. Working hard to look unbothered.

“Tomorrow,” Rindou said, cutting through Sanzu’s ramblings. “We’ve got meetings in Roppongi. You’re coming.”

She blinked, pulled from her spiraling thoughts. “What kind of meetings?”

“Intros mostly. Allies, associates, people we do business with.” Rindou’s smile was small. “Non violent work. We’ll save the fun stuff for later.”

“Oh!” Sanzu interjected, “Is this a debut thing?”

“Yeah.” Rindou looked at her. “People should know who you are. You’re not our little secret anymore. Consider this your official Bonten debut.”

Her debut, as Bonten. Formally introduced into their world.

“No pressure or anything.” she said.

“Don’t stress, it’s so fucking boring.” Sanzu assured her, “Just handshakes, people kissing ass and being nosy.”

“We’ll all be there with you, including the stroke survivor back there.” Rindou said, clearly trying to bait his brother who remained silently seething, deliberately not looking over at them.

Rindou shrugged the jacket on he was holding. “We’re gonna go grab some dinner.” He looked at her, “Wanna come?”

She shook her head, “I’m exhausted. Been nonstop for half the day.”

“Tch, you should get used to late nights,” Sanzu said grinning. “Bonten doesn't really do business hours.”

“She’s had a long day,” Rindou said, already heading to the elevator. “Leave her be.”

“Ran, you coming?” Sanzu called out over his shoulder.

“Nope.” Ran didn’t look up from his drink. “Not hungry.”

“Ok mister professional, more yakitori for us.”

Rindou paused at the elevator, looked back at Ran. He didn’t say anything. He just smiled and gave a small salute in farewell.

Ran’s jaw clenched fractionally.

Once the elevator doors closed behind them, the silence rushed in.

She was very aware of being alone now with Ran. In his apartment. After a day of confusing interactions and loaded looks and her own spiraling thoughts that she couldn't quite silence.

The air felt different without Sanzu’s chaos to cut through whatever this was.

This was stupid. Standing here overthinking silence, reading into things that weren't there. He had an off day - so had she. That was it. That’s all this was, she repeated over and over in her head like saying it more would validate it.

She should just go, remove herself from this situation, retreat to the guest room, let whatever weird energy this was dissipate overnight, and tomorrow…Tomorrow they would be fine. Normal. Professional colleagues doing professional work.

She almost laughed at the lie she was feeding herself. 

She stood straighter, smoothing down her dress. “I’m gonna–” She pointed toward the hallway. “Go to bed, it’s been a long day.”

She expected him to just nod, maybe give some other tiny acknowledgement like he’d been doing all evening.

But when she glanced back, he was looking at her. Not that careful avoidant gaze he’d had the whole day. His mouth opened slightly, like he was about to say something, searching for words that wouldn’t come.

The moment stretched.

“Goodnight.” he finally said. Not dismissive, just uncertain what else to say.

“You too.”

She headed for the hallway, with that look staying with her. Like he had wanted to say something but couldn’t figure out how.

She stopped.

Shit.

Her phone. The new jacket Koko insisted on. Both sitting on the side table near where she had been earlier, forgotten in the chaos of Sanzu's enthusiastic tangent.

She turned back down the hall without thinking, already moving.

“You left your–”

She slammed into something solid. Face first into his chest, the collision knocking her backward until his arms wrapped around her - catching her, pulling her against him to keep her from stumbling backward.

Her hands came up instinctively, bracing against his chest. She could feel the warmth of him through his shirt, the solid muscle underneath, his heart beating steady against her palm. 

“Oh my god– sorry, I–”

She tilted her head back and forgot how to breathe.

He was right there. Closer than close. Barely an inch between them. She had to look up to meet his eyes, and the shift in angle made her even more aware of how their bodies had aligned - how one of his legs had ended up between hers from catching her, his thigh pressed firmly against hers. Her dress had shifted slightly when he caught her, and the press of his leg between hers became impossible to ignore.

His intoxicating scent hit her, expensive and dark and warm, completely overwhelming her senses, wrapping around her until she couldn’t think past it.

One of his hands was spread across her lower back, keeping her steady, the other lingered at her waist,his thumb barely brushing above her hip. She could feel every point of contact. The fabric suddenly felt too thin, doing absolutely nothing to separate his warm touch from her skin.

Heat flooded through her. Not a blush but a full body flush that started in her chest and raced up her throat, spreading across the exposed skin of her shoulders, her collarbone. She felt it happen, helpless knowing he could see it. The color blooming across all that bare skin the dress exposed.

Because this was– they were–

He could kiss me right now if he wanted to.

The thought arrived against her better judgement and her brain just…stopped.

Wait. Do I want–

Ran’s expression changed. Whatever careful control he had been maintaining all evening just dissolved. His eyes lit up, like he could see exactly where her thoughts had gone, like he could read what was making her face so flustered in this moment.

And instead of letting her go, instead of stepping back and making a joke to give them both an exit - his hand at her waist adjusted. Fingers spreading slightly, the hand at her back pressing a little firmer, holding her exactly where she was.

He had just meant to catch her from stumbling backwards. But then he had seen the way her body flooded with color, felt her breath catch, watched her pupils widen when she looked up at him–

And he forgot he was supposed to let go.

“You’re blushing,” he said, voice lower than before.

“No I’m not.” she said, breathless and completely unconvincing.

“You really are.” His thumb started moving – slow circles against her waist through the thin fabric of her dress. Deliberately. “I can see it.”

His gaze dropped briefly to her bare skin - then back up to her face.

She couldn’t form words. Too aware of his hands on her, his leg still pressed between hers, the way her dress rode up just enough to make this feel infinitely more intimate than it should. Too aware of how much of her he could see.

“Tch tch, you walked right into me,” he said, voice quieter now, more intimate. “Didn’t even look.”

“You were–” She was grasping for anything, slowly melting under his dangerous touch, losing her train of thought completely. “-standing there–”

“And now you can’t even finish a sentence.” His smile widened but there was something else behind it now, something heated. “What happened?”

Her mind was racing, 'What happened' he said as if he wasn't able to look at her earlier, as if he wasn't just as off balance the whole day like she was now.

“I’m fine,” she managed.

His gaze tracked over her face - lingering on her mouth for just a second before meeting her eyes again. “You’re holding your breath.” His thumb drew another slow circle and she felt it everywhere.

She released her breath shakily, inhaled and realized that was a huge mistake. His scent wrapped around her, clouding her thoughts again. Focusing on his hands, his light touches, the way she couldn’t pull away and he wouldn’t let go.

She forced herself to meet his gaze. He was looking at her like he had been holding himself back all day and suddenly didn’t remember why he should.

Her heart pounded hard enough she was sure he could feel it.

“You should let me go,” she said quietly.

“I could.” He didn’t move.

He leaned fractionally closer, almost whispering, “But you're not trying very hard to get away.”

Shit.

She wasn’t. She absolutely wasn’t.

She opened her mouth but there wasn't a single word she could find to deny it.

His expression shifted slightly. Like he caught himself saying something he shouldn’t have.

His gaze dropped to where his hands still rested on her. His thumb still tracing those slow circles. 

He seemed to remember himself - remembered they were standing in his hallway, remembered the careful distance he had been maintaining all day.

He let her go. Slowly, like it cost him something.

He stepped back and bent to pick up her phone and jacket from where they had fallen.

She took them from him, fingers brushing his and even that small contact felt charged now.

“Thanks,” she managed, barely holding herself together.

“Anytime.” His voice still held that warm, intimate edge, that amusement that wasn’t entirely teasing anymore.

She should leave. She needed to leave. Go to her room. Process whatever the hell just happened.

She turned toward the guest room.

“Hey,”

She stopped and looked back.

“Goodnight.” he said.

Just that one word, but the way he said it, the way he looked at her when he did - like he was still thinking about how she felt in his arms, like he was filing away every detail of her flustered face for later.

“Night.” 

She escaped back to the room before her face could get any hotter. Closed the door and leaned against it.

What the fuck was that?

The way he touched her, the way her body responded to him instantly, the way she didn’t want him to let go.

She pressed her face into her hands, feeling the heat radiating off of her skin.

He seemed normal now, back to his usual self - the teasing, the charm, the confidence that had been missing all day. Maybe it really had just been an off day. Stress, exhaustion. Mercury in retrograde or whatever cosmic nonsense Sanzu would probably blame.

Tomorrow they would be fine. Back to normal. Professional colleagues. Fine.

She touched her waist where his hand had been, feeling the ghost of his lingering touch.

Everything was fine.

So why couldn’t she catch her breath?

chapter 8

The elevator opened directly to an immaculate penthouse. An intoxicatingly inviting scent enveloped her as she stepped into the space. It almost overwhelmed her senses in a single breath - warm, smoky, and woody, with spicy undertones. It settled into her chest like a hot drink on a cold day. It shouldn’t have felt comforting, yet she could feel her body relax. 

Floor to ceiling windows framed the Tokyo skyline, the city stretching endlessly in lights. Everything looked like it belonged in a magazine spread. Expensive materials, minimalistic design - but unlike those perfectly staged photographs, this space was clearly lived in. An ashtray on the coffee table that held carelessly stubbed out cigarettes. Papers scattered across the kitchen bar. The liquor cabinet stocked opened bottles, not display pieces. And a jacket - one that looked strangely familiar - draped over the back of a chair.

Evidence of a life. When Ran said they burned the safehouse, she assumed he meant they would head to another temporary Bonten property.

“Home sweet home,” Ran said behind her as the door closed.

She slipped off her shoes without thinking, still staring at the sprawling space. “Whose place is this?”

His mouth tilted into a small smirk. “Mine.”

But she wasn’t really listening, too busy taking in the view. She drifted towards the windows. “This is insane,” she laughed “Can I live here?”

For a fraction of a second, surprise flickered across his face - a hitch between laughter and something else that he quickly smoothed over before she noticed.

“At least take me to dinner first,” he said, leaning back against the wall.

It took a moment for her to realize, and her face warmed up all at once. “That’s not- I didn’t realize it was yours.”

“Mhmmm.” His head tilted, eyes burning into her, clearly enjoying watching her backpedal. “So that’s a no on being roommates?”

“You’re the worst.” She turned back to the windows, mortified. “Don’t you have a tour to give or something?”

“Right,” he peeled himself off the wall, “Where are my manners?”

“You really live here by yourself?” she asked, drifting farther into his home. “It’s huge.” She continued to admire, “I get why you hate your office. I would too if this is what I came home to.”

The living room drew her in, or more specifically, the couch. It was deep, wide, upholstered in fabric that held a promise of being the ultimate comfort. It was luxury engineered for indulgence.

She didn’t bother pretending restraint anymore, crossed the room and sank into the plush sofa. The cushions yielded to her body instantly, molding to her shape. “Ohhh,” she breathed, leaning back. “This is dangerous. I could fall asleep right here”

Ran watched her with open amusement as she became one with the sofa. The warmth, the quiet, the scent of wood and spice folding in around her accentuated the comfort. 

“Should I leave you two alone?” He said as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed with that insufferable smirk firmly in place. “Just want to make sure i’m not interrupting something.”

She rolled her eyes at him and let out a faint laugh. “This place must have cost a fortune,” she said, glancing at him. “How much do Bonten executives actually make?”

“Crime pays,” he said as he strode toward her slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. “You should know that by now. You’re the one who keeps the books. I just don’t lose sleep over the parts you still flinch at.”

The warmth in the room seemed to evaporate. Her gaze dropped to his clothes - to the blood still speckling his sleeves, his collar, his pants. Someone else's blood.

The penthouse suddenly felt slightly off. The intoxicating scent, the effortless luxury, the ease she’d let herself sink into - all of it was underwritten by violence.

Her expression hardened and Ran caught it immediately.

“It doesn’t hurt that Rindou and I had rich parents,” he said, tone casual again, like offering her a hand back to steadier ground. “Old family stuff, we didn’t exactly claw our way up from nothing”

She blinked. “Really?”

She had a suspicion, something in the way they both carried themselves, but hearing it out loud landed a bit different.

“Yeah.” He was already turning away, heading down the hall. “But I’m not having a heart to heart while I'm still sticky with some asshole's blood.”

He glanced back once, smile thinner but still very much there. “For what it’s worth,” he added lightly, “they deserved it.” 

He watched her expression closely for a brief moment, then turned on his heel. “Second door down the hall is yours.”

He disappeared, leaving her alone with the quiet. Kakucho’s words echoed uncomfortably. Trust the organization.

It went against everything she believed in, but this was her life now. She adapted before and she would do it again.

The guest room held the same attention to detail as the rest of his space. It felt considerate despite the shift in vibe she had felt earlier. It felt like an extension of his standards, his quiet insistence on comfort.

She showered longer than necessary, letting the heat unknot her muscles, breathing in steam that smelled faintly of cedar and bergamot.

Even the shower reminded her of him.

When she finally emerged clean and warm, the penthouse was eerily quiet. Koko had told her to rest for a few days, but she wasn’t sure she remembered how.

So she wandered - to the kitchen, the living room, a side room with a pool table. Nothing left out to analyze, nothing like the small tells he found in her own apartment.

Eventually, she found her way back to the couch. She curled into it, this time fully committing. The cushions swallowed her again, the fabric cool against her cheek. She meant to close her eyes for only a moment but the comfort felt safe and she let herself sink into it.

She didn’t hear him return. Didn’t feel him pause in the doorway. Didn’t register the way his attention settled onto her. Didn’t see the way he took her in - curled on his couch, guard stripped away, sleeping soundly. 

Vulnerable in a way he wasn’t sure if he had ever seen before.

Ran stood there longer than he meant to. 

He could wake her. Tell her she had a bed. Make a joke about drooling on the expensive upholstery. 

Instead, he turned away. Returning with a blanket, draping it over her carefully as she murmured something unintelligible. That should have been it.

But he hesitated, then slid one arm under her knees, the other supporting her back, lifting her smoothly. Her head rested against his chest - still asleep.

He nudged the guestroom door open and carried her inside, lowering her onto the bed like she might break. He pulled the covers up and she settled deeper into sleep without stirring.

He lingered a moment longer, then stepped back, leaving the door cracked just enough that he could hear if something was wrong.

Back in the living room, he poured himself a drink and sat where she had been. The couch still held her warmth and a faint trace of her shampoo lingering against the fabric.

He told himself she needed real sleep, the couch wasn’t meant for that. That was all it was. He took a long swig of his drink and didn’t acknowledge why it felt like he was swallowing a lie.

She woke to sunlight flooding her eyes.

Her phone glowed in her hand. 1:17 PM.

Oh god.

She sat up disoriented. The last thing she remembered was the couch’s embrace. Now she was tucked beneath covers she didn’t remember pulling up, still in clothes from last night. The blanket wrapped around her smelled unmistakably like him.

The realization that he brought her to bed hit her with embarrassing clarity. She’d been so dead to the world she hadn’t even felt it. 

She lingered there a moment longer, the blanket pulled tight around her. It all felt too comfortable. 

She pushed the blanket aside and got up.

She found him in the living room, stretched across that ridiculous couch like he had been there for hours. One arm hooked over the back, the other loosely holding a mug slowly cooling in his hand. The TV played low, something forgettable murmuring in the background. 

Afternoon light spilled through the windows, softening him where it touched - catching in his hair that fell across his forehead, warming the sharp lines of his face. Out of suits and the shadows, he looked almost…approachable. Ordinary, even. It certainly didn’t erase the danger he exuded, just made it easier to forget in that moment.

He didn’t look up as she entered the room. “Well,” he teased, eyes still on the TV, “Good afternoon, sleeping beauty.” 

“I can’t believe I slept this late.” Her voice felt too loud in the quiet environment.

She hovered for a second, unsure of herself. The living room felt too close but retreating back to the guest room felt like avoidance.

He glanced at her then, with a small smile tugging at his lips, “I’m jealous. I’ve been up for a while. Sleep’s one of my favorite pastimes.”

“Rin’s told me about your love of sleep,” she said, “and how grouchy you were those nights you had to be my jailor.” 

He looked at her with amused confusion, “Rin?”

Now she was confused, “Yeah. Your brother. The other Haitani,” she said dryly. “Surely you know him.”

“Smart ass. Just didn’t realize you two were on first name terms.” His eyes flicked to her. “Can’t say I’ve ever heard you call me Ran.” 

She snorted, “Out of principle now, you’re forever Haitani. Rin gets special treatment.”

He narrowed his eyes like he was considering retaliation. Then he just smiled. “Coffee’s in the kitchen,” he said lightly. “You’re gonna need it.”

She returned with a fresh mug and took the far end of the couch, leaving space between them. Pulled her knees to her chest, arms wrapped around them, mug cradled close. Making herself smaller.

He glanced at her, amusement softening his expression, “Make yourself at home. But do try not to fall asleep again.”

She huffed a small laugh, trying to mask the awkwardness she was feeling. “I feel like I’m intruding.”

“You are.” He said it so casually it took her a moment to register. Then he looked at her again. “But I don’t mind.”

He was the opposite of her careful posture - completely sprawled out, legs stretched out in front of him. The relaxed line of his body felt like an invitation she wasn’t sure was intentional or not.

She noticed the small things. The way he breathed. The flex of the muscle in his forearm whenever he adjusted his grip of his coffee mug. The way he was barefoot and relaxed in a way she had never seen before. 

His shirt had ridden up slightly, just enough to show a sliver of skin above his waistband and the edge of the tattoo that disappeared beneath it.

She looked away quickly, but when she glanced back he was watching her.

“Enjoying the decor?” His voice held too much amusement.

Heat flushed her face, “You have- your furniture is very interesting.”

“Mhm.” He tilted his head, eyes flicking briefly to where her gaze had lingered. “Not what I was referring to though.”

She shot him a look over the rim of her mug and he smiled at her like he won a mysterious game she didn’t realize they were playing.

“Did you-” she stopped herself.

He looked over and waited for her to continue her inquiry.

“Did you carry me to bed last night?”

“Yeah.”

He said that so quickly, with no elaboration or teasing, just a simple confirmation like it hadn’t occurred to him that it might matter.

“I didn’t even feel you pick me up.”

“I figured.” His attention drifted back to the old movie on the TV with that crooked smile still in place. “You were completely dead to the world. But you said some very interesting things when I picked you up.”

Her head snapped toward him, heat rising. “What- no. I did not.” 

“How would you know? You were out. Like out out.” He was fully smiling now, enjoying this. “You said something…” he dramatically sighed, “deeply personal.”

She frowned at him, “What did I say?”

“Mmm.” He let the sound linger, just long enough to get under her skin. “Not sure I should tell you. Might make things awkward.”

She narrowed her eyes, “You’re fucking with me, arent you?”

His laugh was soft and unmistakably pleased. “Maybe.”

She exhaled, equal parts relief and irritation. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”

He just huffed a quiet laugh and stretched further into the furniture, entirely too comfortable with the accusation.

They sat in silence again but it wasn’t the same as before. She was acutely aware of the space between them, how easily she could uncurl herself and close the distance between them.

“I slept really well,” she said eventually, trying to break the silence. “Best I’ve slept in months, actually.”

His glance was brief but she caught the flash of satisfaction there.

“It’s a nice bed.”

“Yeah.”

But they both knew it wasn’t just the bed.

The buzzer cut through their quiet moment like a blade.

Ran sighed, pushing himself upright. “That would be Rin,” he said. “Your new bestie.”

“Aw,” she smirked into her mug, “Don’t be jealous.”

The elevator dinged. And suddenly the quiet and intimate penthouse was filled with voices.

“Don’t you have your own place.” Ran called out, not moving from his sprawl on the couch.

“Yeah, but yours is nicer.” Sanzu appeared first, carrying a bottle of something expensive. “Besides, we’re here to celebrate.”

“Celebrate what?” she asked from her end of the couch.

“The fact that you’re officially untouchable.” Sanzu set the bottle on the counter. “Word’s gotten around. You’re Bonten now. Welcome to the family.”

Rindou followed, taking in the scene - her curled up on one end, Ran stretched out on the other, both of them looking entirely too comfortable. His mouth curved into the faintest smile. “We’ll celebrate properly when you can actually come out with us.”

“You couldn’t have given me a heads up first?” Ran complained.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Sanzu was already hunting for glasses.

She watched the dynamic shift immediately. These weren’t Bonten executives anymore. These three had been friends since they were kids, comfortable enough to show up unannounced and raid each other's ridiculously expensive penthouses.

“Wanna play pool?” Ran suggested, already standing.

They migrated toward the side room. Sanzu racked the balls with an unnecessary flourish while Rindou chalked a cue and glanced her way, “You’re playing too.”

“Absolutely not, Rin.” she laughed. “I refuse to embarrass myself against you three. I’ll observe”

Sanzu froze mid reach for a cue and turned slowly. “Hold on,” he said. “Rin?” 

She blinked, “What?”

“You’re on a first name basis with him?” Sanzu straightened, genuinely affronted. “When the hell did that happen?”

“She’s known me longer.” Rin said, not looking up.

“By like what? A fucking hour?” Sanzu pointed the cue at her. “I claimed you as my sister. That should count for something.”

She couldn’t help the small smile. “He told me to call him that.”

“Oh, so we’re waiting for permission now?” Sanzu grinned. “Cute, Well I’m Haru. There. Permission granted.”

She glanced between them, amused. “Didn’t realize names were such a charged topic.”

Ran huffed a quiet, humorless breath through his nose.

Sanzu laughed. “Oh, they absolutely are.”

Ran didn’t say anything. Just stood there, pool cue gripped a fraction tighter than necessary, shoulders carrying tension that wasn’t there a moment ago.

She didn’t call him Ran. And he wasn’t going to ask.

The alcohol loosened everyone up gradually. Sanzu grew more animated with each drink, his stories getting progressively more exaggerated. Rindou provided dry commentary that consistently undercut Sanzu’s dramatics. Ran played with that infuriating ease that made everything look effortless, though she noticed him glancing over more than usual.

She was somewhere in the middle, tipsy enough to stop caring who was winning, just enjoying the moment.

The game continued. Sanzu was losing spectacularly and blaming everything but his own terrible aim. Meanwhile Rindou was absolutely destroying everyone despite his buzz. 

“Rannabelle,” Sanzu called out suddenly, “Your turn.”

Ran went completely still. The temperature suddenly dropped about ten degrees.

“Do not,” Ran said, quiet but unmistakably final, “call me that.”

Sanzu’s grin turned feral. “Ohhhh, touched a nerve?”

“Rannabelle?” she asked, immediately, her interest piqued by the first visible crack in Ran’s perfect composure all day.

“A little nostalgia from our youth,” Sanzu said lightly.

“We really don’t need to–” Ran started.

Sanzu turned the screen to her, “too late.”

A photo of three younger faces displaying wide cocky grins. Sanzu with stark white hair, Rin with blonde and blue and Ran–

“Are those braids?” she genuinely laughed. “Oh wow, your hair was so longgg.”

“And they were meticulously maintained.” Sanzu said proudly.

“I liked my hair,” Ran said, tone even.

“Oh he didn’t just like it,” Rindou said, amused. “It was his whole thing.”

Ran shot him a look. “Drop it.”

Sanzu didn’t “His braids reminded me of that creepy doll. The nickname annoyed him, so obviously it stuck.” Sanzu took a slow sip before adding casually, “And that hair is also how I finally beat him in a fight.”

Ran rolled his eyes dramatically.

“So we’ve always been dirty fighters, both of us.” Sanzu gestured with his drink. “I’d bring katanas to fistfights, he had his stupid baton. Anyways, one night I grabbed one of those pretty braids and yanked-”

“That was a low blow, even for you.” Ran said flatly, cutting him off.

“First real opening I ever got.” Sanzu shot back.

She glanced over at Ran, he was holding himself perfectly still now, jaw tight, irritation sharp but contained.

“And then,” Sanzu went on, “the very next day - no braids, new hairstyle.”

“Correlation,” Ran said, lifting his glass. “Not causation, I was long overdue for a hairstyle change.”

She leaned back against the pool table, thoroughly amused “Rannabelle, that’s cute”

Ran snapped his attention to her - irritation flashing just beneath the surface. Not flustered or angry, just very clearly unimpressed.

“I mean it,” His gaze held hers, steady and deliberate. “That name stays in the past.”

Sanzu’s attention snapped between them, delighted. Rin too was now watching them without pretense.

She felt the focus of their gazes burn into her skin, the space suddenly feeling warmer, tighter. Too aware of Ran’s eyes still on her, weighing whether she would push again.

She didn’t. Instead she reached for her water and took a long drink. Letting the moment settle.

Eventually, Rin checked his phone, “We should probably head out.”

“What? We can’t leave now!” Sanzu looked genuinely disappointed.

“Some of us have actual responsibilities tomorrow.” Rin stretched, “Unlike you.”

They said their goodbyes at the elevator, as they waited for the doors, Rin glanced back at Ran and something passed between the brothers. A look that clearly said, we’re talking about this later.

Then they were gone.

“I should–” she started.

“Yeah,” Ran said. “Me too.”

She retreated to the guest room, took a shower to let the hot water wash away the alcohol haze. Changed into clean clothes and tried to convince herself to just go to bed.

But when she emerged, she saw the balcony doors cracked open. Cold air seeping in, and him out there in the dark.

She moved toward him without even deciding to.

She found him on the balcony, smoke curling from his cigarette into the night air. The cold bit immediately, but she’d already crossed the threshold.

“Can I bum one?” she asked.

He glanced at her, something like surprise crossing his face, “Didn’t know you smoked.”

“Quit three years ago.” She stepped beside him at the railing. 

He pulled out a pack, expensive and imported, the kind you couldn’t easily find at the corner Lawson. He offered it without a word.

She took one between her fingers and leaned into his lighter, shielding the flame with her palm. The first hit was immediately harsh yet familiar, like greeting an old yet fond memory.

“God,” she exhaled slowly, “I forgot.” The nicotine hit harder now that the alcohol had worn off.

He watched her with faint amusement.

She took another drag, then grimaced. “Brand certainly plays into your taste.” A laugh slipped out. “These aren’t my favorite.”

“Not my fault you don’t have taste, What’d you smoke?”

“Ugh, you’re going to laugh. Those peach ones.” She rolled her eyes at herself. “It was like a little treat. Didn’t even feel guilty about it…Which was probably the point.”

“Oof, that’s tragic.”

“Shut up.” she smirked, then glanced at the cigarette again like it had personally offended her. “These -” her face scrunched, “These are serious. What are they?”

“just some English brand.” He took a long drag and let it out slow, like he was savoring something besides the nicotine. “These aren’t my everyday, they’re harder to find usually have to get them imported” 

“Tch tch, expensive bad habit, Haitani.”

“Just one of many.” he smirked, “Why’d you end up ‘quitting’ ”

“My mom asked me to.” The words spilled out of her before she could think about a careful response. Just took another drag to justify her silence.

She cleared her throat, gesturing with the cigarette, “Why do you smoke these specifically? If they’re not your everyday, that must mean something?” 

He shrugged, eyes fixed to the skyline “Picked them up in London years ago. Rin and I went there for business, ended up staying longer than we needed.” he paused like he was reminiscing on some fond memories. “Tried ‘em on a whim. Turns out i like them more than anything here.”

“That’s it? Just a preference?” She sounded disappointed. “I was hoping for something deeper.”

“What else would it be?” he deflected

“I don’t know- like…memory or nostalgia?” She hesitated and then gave a small self conscious laugh. ”This could be a me thing but I attach memories to almost everything. Certain songs, smells, even objects or colors.” She shook her head. “God, saying that out loud makes me sound so pathetic.”

He considered that. “Maybe I'm just pretentious,” he said, like he was testing the word. “They’re not something the average person has. Makes me look like I chose this, like it’s intentional instead of some habitual smoke.”

She straightened, pitched her voice into a haughty, mocking tone. “Ah yes. Very on brand, Haitani. Make everything you do seem inaccessible and expensive.”

He scoffed, “At least I’m very aware of my image.”

She took another drag and the nicotine had rooted into her system, familiar, unwelcome and somehow comforting all at once. Like everything in her life these days.

“What made London worth staying for?” she asked

“The anonymity.” He said simply. 

She glanced at him with skepticism. “You liked being invisible?” 

“Tch, I wouldn't trade the power I've had for anything.” he corrected her immediately. “I just- i don’t know… liked having the option.” He shifted his weight, gaze still fixed on the city. “Here, everyone knows who we are, knows the Haitani name.” His jaw tightened slightly. “Our every move has been watched and calculated since we were kids. Everything has a consequence, good or bad.” He paused. "But there- we just existed.”

“That honestly sounds kind of nice.”

“It was.” Something in his voice had gone quiet, like he lost a bit of the charisma and confidence he usually has. “Rin met a girl, it wasn’t anything serious, she was just some art student who thought he was charming.” He snorted at the memory. “She had no idea what we did. Who we really were. Just treated him like he was a normal guy, with some wild hairstyle.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing. We came home, back to the real world. She probably forgot about him in a week.” He exhaled slowly. “But for five days, he got to be someone else. Someone who was boring and normal.”

She studied him, “Did you meet anyone?” The question slipped out before she could stop herself.

“No.” He said quickly.

His answer caught her off guard - the way he flirted and weaponized charm. She assumed he collected women like trophies.

“Why not?” she pressed, quieter now.

He was silent long enough that she almost regretted asking.

“Because, I can’t do what Rin does.” he finally spoke. “Play pretend and then let it go.” He looked at her then. “I knew I’d want to keep it…and that felt worse than not having it at all.”

She tried to keep her face even but his confession felt like the first real thing he's ever offered to her.

“I get that,” she replied softly, looking down at her hands dangling over the balcony railing.

“Do you?”

She thought about the way he’d carried her to bed without waking her. The blanket that smelled like him.“Yeah I do” 

She ashed her cigarette. “I spent years hiding what I did for work. Dating was kind of impossible. Either I lied and felt like shit or told the truth and watched them leave.” She gave a humorless laugh. “Eventually, I just stopped trying.”

“When was your last relationship?”

“Real one?” She thought for a second. “Probably, four years ago,” she tried to laugh through her discomfort. “We broke up because he thought I worked too much. But I couldn't exactly explain that I was working too much because I was paying off my moms medical debt by cooking books for yakuza.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, like he understood her predicament. 

“Would he have understood if you told him the truth?”

“No chance in hell.” She took one last drag and stubbed the cigarette out. “He was a good person. The kind who volunteers on weekends and believes in law and order and all that bullshit.” She stared at the dying ember. “Probably for the best," she laughed, "I would've ruined him.”

“Or he would have ruined you,” he said, smirking faintly. “Made you too soft.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It is.” The certainty in his voice made it seem like it was a fact. “Soft gets you killed. Or worse - gets people you care about killed.”

“Is that why you don’t do relationships?” she asked, “You’re worried about safety?”

He took a long drag, exhaled slowly while he considered his answer. “Maybe.” His gaze stayed on the city lights. “Or maybe it’s too much effort.” 

Her breath caught a little at his honesty.

“Sex is easy. Charm is easy.” He flicked ash into the dark. “I know how to make someone want me for a night, maybe a week.” He watched the ember glow. “But letting someone in?” He shook his head, “That’s not exactly something I excel at.”

The silence stretched between them. She wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. 

“That sounds lonely,” she said finally.

“I’d rather be alone than be the kind of person who keeps something I know I'll break eventually.” He didn’t look at her when he said it, like he didn’t want to see what that admission did to her.

She understood it in a way that made her chest hurt. Almost like they were mirrors of each other whether they liked it or not.

“I think I'm the opposite,” she admitted, the cold pressing against her when she breathed. “I spent so long telling myself that I was single because of the work I did. Because of the secrecy- or maybe the danger of it all.” She pulled her jacket tighter. “But really…” She hesitated, the words tasting like something she should just swallow down. “I don’t think I believed anyone would stay once they actually knew me.”

He remained quiet after that. Didn’t offer his usual deflection. He just stood there, cigarette burning down, expression carefully neutral in a way that took effort now.

“It’s cold,” he said eventually. “We should go in.”

She headed for the door, but he lingered at the railing a moment longer, like he needed the distance back. 

When she glanced over her shoulder, he was silhouetted against the city lights, disappearing into the smoke curling up into the cold night air.

chapter 7

content warning: graphic violence, blood, etc.

A week had passed since that night and things had fallen into a better rhythm, one that she didn’t hate anymore. Business as usual, except that the work didn’t feel like a chore anymore. The apartment no longer felt temporary. She let herself admit that maybe she didn’t mind this new life.

She was one of them now. She was Bonten. 

A few days later, Kakucho showed up with Mochi, which told her something was wrong.

The rotation had become predictable - Ran most days, Rin when Ran had business elsewhere, and Sanzu when he got bored and inserted himself uninvited. Kakucho came occasionally. But Kakucho and Mochi? That was a first.

She looked up from her laptop when they walked in. Kakucho nodded once in acknowledgement while Mochi settled onto the couch like this was routine.

“Where’s Ran?” she asked, keeping her voice level.

“Out.” Kakucho said, “He’ll be back later.”

“And Rin? Sanzu?”

“Also out.”

She set her laptop aside carefully. “That’s not really an answer.”

Kakucho took the chair across from her, “They’re handling some business. A dispute that needs settling. That’s all.”

That tracked. They sis still have work outside of keeping her company but the tightness in her chest didn’t ease.

“So why are there two of you?” she asked.

“Just a precaution.”

She wasn’t buying it. Kakucho didn’t lie outright - he just withheld pertinent information, let you draw your own conclusions while giving you nothing concrete to push against.

“You know,” she said, trying to force her voice to be lighter, “I heard you might actually be stronger than the Haitani brothers. So why do you need backup?”

Kakucho's mouth twitched, biting back a smile, “Mochi’s not backup. We just want to be extra cautious while they’re gone.”

Extra cautious.

Her mind turned over the implications. Security in this building was already excessive - so why would they need more?

Unless someone was willing to try anyway. Unless someone knew where she was.

Her heart began racing.

“We’ve been careful.” Kakucho finally said, “But we’re not taking chances.”

Her chest tightened even more. “They’ve been in and out of this building for weeks,” she said quietly, processing her thoughts aloud. “I left with Ran that one night. Of course someone would have noticed. Of course they could have figured it out.”

Kakucho recognized that look on her face. “Hey.” His voice dropped. “Don’t spiral right now.”

It was too late. Her thoughts were already flooding through her mind. Someone knew where she was. Someone had been watching, tracking her movements, waiting for– what? An opening? A mistake?

She knew that the Bonten executives were dangerous, terrifying men. People didn’t mess with them unless they had a death wish. But someone had already tried to kill her once. What was stopping them from trying again?

“Stop.” Kakucho’s voice cut through her thoughts sharply enough to snap her attention back. “You’re working yourself up over nothing.”

“Nothing?” her voice came out sharper than she meant. “You just said–”

“I said, we’re being cautious. That’s not the same as being in immediate danger.” He leaned forward slightly, “Everything is being handled.”

“What does that mean?” She could feel her pulse racing now, “What’s being handled?”

“That’s not your concern right now.”

She spoke over him, “It absolutely is my concern–”

“No,” Kakucho’s tone stayed even, but something hardened beneath it. “It’s not. Ran, Rindou and Sanzu are taking care of it. That’s all you need to know.”

“That’s not–”

“You’re Bonten now,” he said, cutting her off, raising his voice just enough to quiet her. “That means you trust the organization to handle threats. You don’t get to demand operational details just because you’re anxious.”

She opened her mouth, then thought better of it.

Kakucho’s expression softened slightly, but his voice remained firm. “I understand why you're scared. But spiraling and demanding answers you don’t need isn’t going to help anyone.”

She looked away and noticed her hands were shaking. She clenched them together and tried to fix her focus to the wall, steadying her breath as best as she could.

“Listen,” he continued, slower, “you've been through a lot since you got here. I think all of us can agree that you’ve earned our respect. You’ve earned a seat at the table.” He paused deliberately, making sure she was listening. “But that does not change the fact that I’m in charge here. Understood?”

The authority in his tone left no room for argument. She swallowed once and nodded.

He leaned back, some of the tension finally easing from his posture. “Take a breath. Everything's going to be fine. They may seem like they’re only good for nonsense, but you forget- Sanzu is second in command, and those other two idiots are executives.”

She tried to take his words to heart. She took a deep breath, then another but it didn’t help as much as she’d hoped.

Hours later, the door finally unlocked and clicked open.

She was on her feet before she could think about it.

“Honey, I’m home.” Sanzu announced cheerfully.

Sanzu walked through first with Ran and Rindou following close behind. Once she saw their faces, relief flooded through her so fast it almost made her dizzy. 

It took her a moment to take in the sight in front of her and realize how disheveled they actually were.

Ran’s jacket was gone. Sleeves rolled up past his elbows, the ink along his arm fully exposed for once. Specks of blood dotted his shirt, small enough to miss if you weren’t looking. His hair had fallen out of place across his face and he hadn’t bothered to smooth it back.

Rindou’s knuckles were split, blood dried dark across his skin. Sanzu was covered in more blood than the other two combined. Splattered across his shirt, his face, his hands. But he was grinning like he had just had the time of his life.

They just stood there like walking in covered in someone else's blood didn’t warrant a reaction.

When she looked back at Ran he looked satisfied. Like seeing her worried expression pleased him in some way she didn’t want to examine.

“Pack your things,” he said.

Her stomach dropped. “What?”

“You should be safe now.” He moved further into the apartment, rolled his shoulders to work out some lingering tension. “We burned the safehouse though. You’ll need to stay somewhere else for a few days. Just as a precaution.”

The last time he told her to pack her bags, she lost everything. Left her apartment with nothing but fear and a fresh bullet wound. Walked away from the only life she knew.

But now…Now it felt different. 

She closed the bedroom door and stood there for a moment. Her heart was still racing, but the fear was slowly being replaced with something else. Hope for a future where she could actually start over. Finally have the chance to make something her own.

She just had to ignore the fact that the man inspiring her hope had walked in covered in someone else's blood. 

Four hours earlier.

Ran spread photographs across the table in his apartment. Rindou stood at his shoulder, arms crossed, examining them in silence. Sanzu lounged in a chair, feet kicked up on the edge of the table.

“They’ve been watching the building for two weeks,” Ran said, tapping one photograph. “Rotating shifts, three guys.”

He slid another photo forward. “This one got bold yesterday. Tried the service entrance.”

Sanzu leaned forward, interest finally sparking. “And?”

“Rin got him.” Ran’s smile was thin. “They had a productive little chat.”

The guy talked - they always did, eventually. Gave up everything: employers, locations, when the boss would be meeting next. Spilled it all in exchange for a promise they’d let him live. A promise they never intended to keep.

“Weeks of watching them watch her,” Sanzu said with an annoyed sigh. “Getting real tired of playing bait for these assholes.”

“It worked though,” Ran said, gathering the photos into a neat stack. “They showed their hand.”

They had chosen that building specifically - it was high profile enough that Bonten's presence would be noticed, it was secure enough to feel safe, but not so locked down that curious eyes couldn’t confirm someone was there. They rotated executives through on a visible schedule. With just enough sloppiness to be believable.

Let them think they found her. Let them get comfortable.

“Did they really think we wouldn’t notice?” Sanzu scoffed.

“Apparently,” Ran said.

Rindou straightened, “Intel said the meeting’s in two hours.”

Ran was already grabbing his things. “Shibuya, boss and six of his guys.”

“Light security?” Sanzu asked, standing from his chair.

“Sounds like it.”

Sanzu grinned. “This should be fun.”

She was Bonten now. Anyone coming after her now was picking a fight with the entire organization. Everyone seemed to need a reminder of this fact.

The building was laughably unsecure.

Ran almost felt insulted on their behalf as they walked through the lobby. One bored security guard at the desk, cameras that probably weren’t regularly checked on.

“Huh, this is what passes for protection?” Sanzu muttered.

“Guess so,” Rindou said.

They dressed for this - no jackets, no ties. Shirts not buttoned completely up, sleeves rolled up past their elbows. Still polished in tailored fabrics and expensive watches, but stripped down enough to move. Enough to make their ink impossible to miss.

The Bonten marks bled dark across their pale skin. Ran and Rindou’s throats visible now in the hollow above their collars. Sanzu’s forearm bearing the same symbol where his sleeve was rolled back. Showcasing ink that made people turn heads. The kind that made people think twice and decide to look away quickly.

They moved through the lobby with the confidence of men who knew exactly how dangerous they looked.

The first guard they encountered was near the service elevator. He looked at the men approaching, started to open his mouth–

Rindou’s fist drove into his stomach before he could make a sound. The man folded, gasping for air. Rindou caught him by the collar and dragged him into the stairwell before anyone could notice.

Ran plucked the keycard from the guards belt while Rindou made sure he stayed down.

The elevator ride up was silent. Ran watched the numbers climb, savoring the calm before the storm. Rindou stretched his arms overhead, loosening up and preparing for a fight. Sanzu examined his knuckles like he was already imagining them connecting with bone.

The doors finally opened up to the 19th floor.

They stepped out of the elevator and into a small hallway where they were met with two guards, both of them straightened when they saw them.

Ran smiled, “We’re here to see your boss. He’s expecting us.”

The guards exchanged a glance and one reached for his radio the other reached for his gun.

Ran’s baton was already in his hand and he extended it with a quick, sharp snap. He swung before the weapon cleared the guards holster - the steel baton shattering the man's forearm. The guards scream tore through the hallway.

Before he could move further, Rindou was behind him. Arm locked around the guard's throat, hand clamped over his mouth. “Scream again and I snap your neck.”

The second guard had his weapon half-drawn when cold metal pressed against his temple.

“Boo, motherfucker.” Sanzu said, pushing the barrel harder against the man's skull. “Drop it or get dropped.”

The gun clattered to the floor. And Sanzu kicked it away.

“Smart.” Sanzu’s grin widened. “Call upstairs. Tell them Bonten’s here for that meeting they forgot about.”

The guard hesitated. Eyes glancing between the gun at his head and his partner still struggling in Rindou’s grasp.

Ran shifted his weight, let the baton swing lazily in his hand. “He asked nicely. I won’t.”

The guard fumbled for his radio with shaking hands. “Uh– there’s– we uhm have visitors…They say they have a meeting–”

“Bonten, dude… come on,” Sanzu said annoyed, “that was like the main part."

“-with– with Bonten.” the guard repeated, voice cracking. The long pause betrayed their calculations.

“Send them up to twenty,” a disembodied voice stated through the radio.

Sanzu pulled the gun back, patted the guards face reassuringly with his free hand. “I need you to get better about identifying the important parts of a message, my dude, come on.”

Then he slammed the butt of the gun into the side of the man's head.

“Shit, I guess you got dropped anyway.”

Rindou had already released his grip on the other guard, letting him crumple unconscious to the floor.

Ran continued down the hallway, “Stairs.”

When they reached the next floor, Sanzu pushed the door open.

Five men were in the hallway. Not mediocre guards this time - they looked more prepared. Hands already near weapons, eyes tracking their every movement.

Sanzu stepped through first, no weapon visible yet. Ran and Rin flanked him, spreading out just enough to make targeting all three of them difficult.

For a moment, no one moved.

“Gentlemen.” Sanzu said, that manic grin already spreading. “We’re here to see your boss. Hope we’re not interrupting something important.”

“He’s in a meeting.” one of them said.

“Fuck your meeting,” Sanzu said. “You don’t double book Bonten.”

One of the men’s hands twitched towards his jacket.

Ran pointed at him with his baton, “Move that hand again and I’ll make sure you never use it again.”

The standoff held for another moment, then the first man moved - hand diving for his weapon.

Rindou was faster. He caught the man’s wrist mid draw and swept his legs from under him. The gun clattered to the floor as the man's momentum was stopped by his face slapping the floor with a thump that echoed down the hallway. He wasn't conscious to scream as Rindou yanked his arm back, shoulder dislocating from its socket with a loud pop.

Ran was already on the second guard. He swung his baton into the area below the man’s ribs. The man doubled over with a groan as Ran gathered his head into a clinch and kneed his unprotected face. Blood sprayed hot across Ran’s pants.

A third man came at Sanzu and maybe thought he could get close before his gun came out. 

Wrong.

Sanzu pistol whipped him, his gun connected with enough force to snap his head sideways. Teeth scattered across the pristine floor like dice. Blood fanning out in an arc, painting the wall and floor. The man crumbled to the ground, hands clutching his torn face, trying to hold pieces of himself together.

Sanzu pointed his gun at the fourth man, who had frozen mid reach. “Did you see that?” He moved closer, almost eager, breathing slightly elevated now from excitement. “Modern guns man! They're drop safe. I bet I could bash this into your skull to my heart’s content and it wouldn’t fire without me pulling the trigger.”

The mans eyes found Ran’s - looking for mercy - but nothing stared back. Just dead eyes and the promise of more violence. Ran smiled.

The man raised his hands and surrendered his weapon with shaking hands.

“Aww,” Sanzu complained, reaching out to pat the man's head almost affectionately. “I wasn’t going to bash your skull in, man. I wanted to test the trigger pull.”

The fifth guard was already on the ground - hands up, gun kicked away, learning from the mistakes of the men bleeding around him.

Sanzu stepped over the bodies without looking down. Ran followed, baton still in hand, blood specking his sleeves and slacks. Rindou came last, flexing his bruised knuckles.

The door at the end of the hall stood closed but Sanzu pushed it open without knocking.

The room was smaller than Ran expected. A conference table took up most of the space with seven men seated around it. The conversation died the moment the door opened.

Older men in conservative suits, the kind of men who looked like they had built their careers on discretion and tradition.

The man at the head of the table had grey hair that was slicked back, hands folded calmly like the three men covered in blood walking into his meeting were a minor scheduling conflict.

Traditional yakuza, Ran thought. The kind who still believed that codes and oaths meant something.

None of them reacted to the blood, didn’t flinch, didn’t reach for weapons. They just watched with the careful stillness of men calculating their next move.

“Bonten,” the boss said. Voice steady bordering on bored. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Sanzu smiled. “Heard you’ve been keeping tabs on one of ours. Thought we should have a little conversation about that.”

The boss didn’t blink. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken. We have no interest in Bonten’s affairs.”

“That’s funny,” Sanzu smiled wider, like this was entertaining. “Your guys have been parked outside one of our buildings for two weeks. Real subtle.”

“A misunderstanding, perhaps–”

“No.” Ran’s voice cut in smooth as silk. He moved further into the room, unhurried, letting the baton tap once against his thigh. “You had an employee. She doesn’t work for you anymore.”

One of the lieutenants spoke up, “We’re not tracking anyone.” 

Ran’s smile widened but never reached his dead eyes. “Interesting, you’ll enjoy this then.” He tilted his head. “The guy we picked up yesterday was very motivated to be honest. Told us where you meet. When. Who gives orders.” He paused, “Even told us about your little surveillance schedule.”

The room filled with silence.

Sanzu sighed, like they were wasting time. “So let’s skip the bullshit, where you pretend you don’t know what we’re talking about, 'kay?” His grin never faltered. “She’s Bonten now.”

The boss studied them. “If there was any…miscommunication, I’m sure we can resolve it professionally.”

“Good.” Ran said easily. “Then we’re clear. You stop looking. Stop asking. Stop thinking.” He met the boss’s gaze, “As far as you’re concerned, she doesn’t exist.”

He paused for a moment to let his words sink in.

“If she crosses your mind again,” Ran added, voice lowering, “you’re starting a problem with Bonten.”

Sanzu’s grin was all teeth. “And you don’t get a second warning.”

One of the younger lieutenants shifted in his seat. His jaw was tight, face flushed like he’d been holding something back for too long.

“All this for some accountant–”

Ran moved and the distance between them disappeared before the man could finish his thought, before anyone could react. Ran’s hand caught the back of the lieutenant's head and drove it down onto the table.

Not hard enough to knock him out. Just hard enough to make the lesson stick.

The man gasped, tried to pull back, vision probably blurring from the sudden impact. He started to say something - another insult, another mistake forming on his tongue.

Ran reached into his pocket, pulled out a switchblade and drove it straight through the man's hand, burying it deep into the expensive wood beneath.

The scream that followed was high pitched and broken. Barely sounded like it came from a grown man.

The man clawed at the table with his free hand, trying to pull himself away, but the blade held. Pinned him down like a trapped animal with his blood pooling into the polished wood.

Ran leaned down with a pleased smile, like he had been waiting to hear that exact sound. “What was that?” he asked lightly. “I could have sworn you were thinking about someone who doesn’t exist anymore.”

The man sobbed, couldn’t form words, just sounds of pain and terror while his colleagues watched.

“See, that’s the problem with you,” Ran continued, his voice never losing that casual, unbothered tone. “You just don’t listen.” 

He twisted the knife slightly and the man’s scream intensified. Fresh blood welled up around the blade, now dripping down onto the mans expensive suit.

“She doesn’t exist,” Ran said softly, watching the man’s face contort. “Not in your head. Not in your mouth. Nowhere.”

He gave another small twist and the mans eyes rolled back, consciousness threatening to leave him. That was Ran’s sign to stop, couldn’t have him pass out yet.

He straightened himself upright, leaving the knife buried deep.

Blood had gotten on Ran’s fingers, he wiped them clean on the lieutenant's shoulder, deliberately dragging his hand slowly across the fabric. This man was now nothing more than his napkin.

None of the other men at the table moved. The boss’s expression didn’t change, didn’t even acknowledge the blade buried in his lieutenant's hand.

If anything he looked annoyed. Embarrassed.

“My apologies,” he said, voice flat. “That outburst was…inapporpriate and regrettable. Your action was justified.”

The Bonten members straightened up instinctively in recognition. This man understood the business.

“We have no ill intentions with Bonten.” the boss continued. “The girl is yours, you won’t hear from us again regarding the matter.”

“Good,” Sanzu said politely, “I am happy we understand each other.”

Ran stepped back from the table without retrieving his knife, letting Sanzu’s politeness stand for what it was: a facade for the violence they had used to make their point.

“Gentlemen,” Sanzu said cheerfully over his shoulder. “Pleasure doing business.”

Aside from the occasional groan, the hallway was quiet on the way out. They made it to the stairwell before Rindou spoke.

“You got a little heated back there.”

Ran glanced at him. “He was disrespectful.”

“Uh-huh.” Rindou’s tone was knowing and amused. “Real protective over ‘just another Bonten employee’”

Sanzu laughed ahead of them, already halfway down the stairs. “The man was ugly crying when you stabbed him.”

Ran said nothing.

What was there to say? That the insult had landed wrong - personal in a way he didn’t feel up to unpack? That hearing someone reduce her to nothing had made something cold and violent spike through his chest?

No. It was better to keep walking. Let them think whatever they wanted.

He wasn’t being possessive over her. He was making a point to those assholes. That’s all it was. That’s at least what he told himself.

Sanzu talked the entire drive back, a play by play of every hit and sound. Still riding the high of violence.

Ran let him talk, but just stayed silent, focusing on the road ahead of him.

Blood speckled his shirt, Rindou’s hands probably needed bandaging, Sanzu looked injured at first glance, but it was just other men’s blood staining his suit.

The drive back to the apartment felt longer than it should have. When Sanzu opened the door, she was on her feet immediately, eyes scanning all three of them.

Relief flooded her face so openly it caught Ran off guard.

Something in his chest eased. He hadn’t realized how tight it had been until that moment - seeing her worried face, seeing her safe.

He realized he liked it - her worrying about him. That thought landed before he could stop it.

He tried to brush it off, told her to pack and watched her process what that meant - that she was safe now, that the threat was handled. When she looked at him after, there was something in her expression he couldn’t read. Almost like he had given her something instead of solving some problem...And he couldn’t tell if that bothered him or not.

He watched her head for her bedroom to gather her things, said nothing, waiting there with blood drying on his clothes and her look of relief still playing in his head.

Behind him, Kakucho asked how it went. Rindou gave some high level details. Sanzu laughed about needing a shower.

But Ran didn't move. Just stood there trying to untangle thoughts that didn't make sense.

chapter 6

The days blurred together in the safe house.

She woke. She worked. Ate when food appeared. Slept when exhaustion dragged her under.

Ran was there most days, a constant presence that required nothing. He wasn't someone bothered by occupying in silence with others - scrolling his phone with glazed, bored attention, watching TV with the volume low enough to be ambient noise rather than entertainment. Sometimes Rindou took his place, bringing video games for entertainment. Once Kakucho came, he worked with focused intensity and left just as quietly.

The security was constant. Always visible and heavy. But no one seemed to hover anymore.

A week passed like that. Seven days of routine that seeped into her and started to feel like the norm.

She worked without needing to prove herself. Was asked questions that expected real answers, not performances. No one was watching to see if she would break or run or become inconvenient. The scrutiny had lifted so gradually she almost hadn’t noticed.

She did notice the small things though. The way coffee appeared before she thought to make it. How food materialized when she had been working too long. Her phone perpetually charged even though she couldn't remember plugging it in.

Ran never commented or drew attention to the silent care being delivered. He just acted like it was the obvious thing to do.

Once, she looked up to find him watching her. For once not studying her, just noticing.

“What?” she asked.

“You missed lunch.”

“I’m okay.”

“Sure.” He stood, disappearing into the kitchen. Came back with an onigiri and set it on her desk without ceremony or mockery.  

“Eat anyway.”

She ate.

The routine somehow became something almost comfortable. It was odd that this was all starting to feel familiar.

Day ten, Sanzu showed up unannounced. 

He walked in carrying a bag that smelled like heaven. Actual ramen from somewhere that cared about broth quality, the kind of place with lines out the door and exactly nine items on the menu.

“Morning sunshine,” he said cheerfully, setting the bag on the counter. “I bought us some goodies.”

She glanced at Ran, who didn’t look up from his phone. His expression remained neutral but something in his shoulders registered resignation.

“He does this,” Ran said. “Easier to just entertain him.”

Sanzu unpacked containers. He set one in front of her, kept one for himself and sprawled onto the couch next to Ran with complete disregard for his personal space.

“So,” he said around a mouthful of noodles. “I have some hypothetical questions.”

“Oh no,” Ran muttered, still scrolling.

“If you woke up in my body for 24 hours - what’s the first thing you would want to try?” He raised his eyebrows.

She stared at him, heat immediately flooding her face. “That’s- are you seriously asking me that?”

Sanzu blinked with exaggerated innocence. “What? It’s a hypothetical question. Wouldn't actually happen...or would it?” 

“It sounds like-” she stopped, face burning.

His grin spread slowly. “It sounds like what?” What were you thinking?”

“Ugh forget it.”

“No no no, now I wanna know.” He leaned forward, elbows on knees, eyes gleaming with mischief. “What did you think I was asking? Because I’m just asking an innocent question here.”

"Pleaseee Sanzu. I've figured out you're not innocent about anything."

“I’m deeply offended.” He pressed a hand to his chest with theatrical hurt. “I’m a pure soul ya know. Your mind went somewhere dirty and that's on you, sunshine.”

Ran made a sound that might have been a suppressed laugh, it was too hard to tell with him.

“I didn’t- you- you phrased it weird.” she said defensively.

“I phrased it just fine. You assumed something pervy.” His grin widened. “Which says more about you than me, honestly.” He waved a hand, “But anywho, what I actually meant was, what would you want to experience? You’re in my body, 'kay? My life. Bountiful chaos. What do you want to do?”

She was quiet for a moment, still recovering from the embarrassment. Then, answered more honestly than she intended. “You seem to be fairly confident so, maybe I’d like to know what it feels like to not have imposter syndrome all the time.”

Sanzu’s grin softened into something genuine, something almost kind. “Oh shit, sweetheart, that’s deep.”

On the couch, Ran’s mindless scrolling slowed. He was still looking at his phone, but his attention had tuned into the conversation, focused and listening now.

“Don't make it weird. Moving on, same question?” she asked, genuinely interested now. “What would you want to do in my life?”

“Easy.” He slurped more noodles, unbothered by the question. “I'd fuck Ran."

She tried to suppress herself from fully choking on her food. Ran looked over at him with a disgusted look.

"Ah so you are listening - just wanted to make sure everyone was actively participating." he winked then gestured toward Ran with his chopsticks. “Your turn, creep. What would you want to try in my life?”

Ran didn’t look up from his phone. “Pass.”

“Oh come on–”

"Leave me out of this. You didn't even bring me food, prick."

“God you’re no fun.” Sanzu sprawled deeper into the couch. "Fine, different but similar question. If we swapped lives for a week, what’s something you would totally fuck up for me?”

She considered it for a moment but the answer was obvious. “I would probably get you killed within two days. I'm not exactly a pacifist but I really don't know how to fight.”

“That's lowkey grim. Do you wanna shoot my gun, I can tech you how to shoot.” He grinned.

"I said fight, not murder." she shot back.

“Well, offer still stands."

"Can you just answer the question, you actually haven't answered any seriously so far."

"Fine, fine. I’d probably get you fired in less than a day. I’d tell Koko to fuck off with his numbers, reorganize all your files by vibes and probably start at least three fights for fun.” He paused, reconsidering his answer. “Well now that I think about it, you wouldn’t get fired. That's pretty par for the course in the office. Maybe I'd get you promoted.”

“I’d expect nothing less.”

“Alright,” Sanzu said eventually, setting down his empty container. “I have a good one. What’s my type?”

“Your type? What do you mean, blood type, personality-”

“Likeee romantically. Going off of vibes and the fact you’ve known me for a few weeks.” He leaned back, "This is a good character assessment."

She studied him - the chaotic energy, the manic grin, the way he treated everything like its sole purpose was entertainment value. “If I was going off of first impressions? Before I had a real conversation with you, I would have said someone shallow. Like someone who laughs at everything you say and doesn’t ask questions.”

He placed a hand over his chest, wounded. “Ouch, I'll have you know I have depth-”

“WAIT- I said before I got to know you. But, knowing you now-” She tilted her head considering. “I'm guessing that would actually bore the shit out of you. You need someone who keeps up, who argues back and tells you when you’re being a dick and isn’t scared of you.”

Sanzu’s grin was huge, genuine pleasure lighting up his face. “That’s the best answer anyone's ever given me. You've passed with flying colors in fact, you’ve been promoted, you’re now my wingwoman.”

“Greaaaaat, no pressure at all.”

“Okay,” he pointed at her with renewed focus. “Your turn. What’s your type?”

“Uh uh." she waggled her finger at him. That’s not how this works, you have to answer first." she teased, "You can psycho analyze me all you want, but I'm not telling.”

Ran’s phone was still in his hand, but he wasn’t scrolling anymore. Just holding it utterly still, attention completely focused on their conversation.

“Fineeee,” Sanzu said, clearly delighted by the challenge. “You're a nerd so you'd been into intelligence. Someone actually competant - not just pretending. Smart without making a show of it” He leaned back, watching her reaction. “Probably someone a little dangerous - I mean you are a white collar criminal - but you're kind of boring too so probably someone kind of grounded. ”

The description landed with uncomfortable accuracy. And it sounded…familiar.

Ran’s eyes flicked up from his phone. Just for a second. Then back down.

“Oooooh how close am I? I must be pretty close, your face is getting red.”

“I- no it's not-” She wanted to protest but her words weren't coming to her. 

“So I’m right.” He looked absolutely delighted. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. Your secret’s safe with me.”

He turned to Ran, mouth already opening to pose the question–

Ran stood gracefully, setting his phone down before the words could come out of Sanzu's mouth. “I’m getting coffee. Anyone want anything?”

“Uhm- Nah, I’m good,” Sanzu said, grinning wider.

“No thanks,” she managed, voice slightly tight.

Ran walked to the kitchen. Sanzu watched him go, then looked back at her and said nothing. Just smiled like he knew something she didn’t.

She felt her face heat but she wasn’t sure why.

When Ran returned, coffee in hand, he settled back onto the couch and immediately focused his attention back to his phone. Didn’t acknowledge anything and didn’t look at them either. But something in the air changed. She could feel it even if she couldn't exactly name it.

They kept going like that for another two hours. Increasingly absurd questions that veered between profound and ridiculous. Genuine answers mixed with deflections and jokes. She found herself actually engaging, arguing, laughing. It felt good for once, like talking to a friend instead of a captor.

When Sanzu finally left, the apartment felt quieter but not empty.

Ran was back on the couch, phone back in hand as usual.

“He’s exhausting,” she said, trying to make conversation.

“Yeah,” Ran’s voice was casual. Too casual. “But he’s good at getting information out of people.”

She looked at him sharply. But he was already back to scrolling, keeping his expression neutral - that careful blankness he wore when he didn’t want you to know what he was thinking.

But she knew he heard everything. That he was silently observing and taking note of her answers. Sanzu’s description of her type. 

A description that, the more she thought about it, sounded uncomfortably like–

She pushed the thought away. 

She tried to go back to work. But she felt Ran’s attention on her briefly before he went back to whatever it was he was pretending to do.

Day twelve, she couldn’t sleep.

Two hours of staring at the ceiling, watching shadows shift across unfamiliar plaster, counting imaginary sheep that wouldn’t lull her to sleep.

Eventually she gave up and emerged from the bedroom with the resignation of someone surrendering to insomnia.

The living room wasn’t empty. Rindou was on the couch. And she almost didn’t recognize him.

His expensive, tailored suit was gone. In its place was a faded black tee, grey sweats and round wire framed glasses perched on his nose - delicate and almost scholarly. He looked like someone you would pass in Shibuya buying manga or waiting for some limited sneaker drop.

He looked soft, harmless, maybe even normal. That is, until you saw the ink trailing his arm.

His right sleeve pushed up past his elbow, revealed intricate linework that wrapped around his forearm. The tattoo disappeared beneath the fabric, but the visible portion told a different story than the man wearing glasses, playing video games at two in the morning.

He glanced up when she entered, controller in hand, some game playing on the TV with low volume.

“Hey.” He said, like this was normal. 

She stopped. Stared.

“What?” He looked down at himself, then back at her with faint amusement. “Did you think I slept in a three piece suit?”

“I-” She didn’t know what she thought. “I didn’t know you wore glasses.”

“Contacts usually.” He went back to his game. “Ran says they make me look like a nerd.”

“I mean...he has a point, they do.”

His mouth twitched. She moved further into the room, still processing this transformation. The buttoned up executive who she’d known for close to a month had been replaced by someone softer, and younger.

“Well, welcome to club insomnia.” he said without looking back at her.

“So, you can’t sleep either?”

“I’m nocturnal. I thrive at night.” He paused his game, finally giving her his full attention. “Ran is the one suffering. He loves his beauty sleep and has been cranky as shit all week.”

She almost smiled, moving to the kitchen. “So you volunteered for night shifts?”

“Someone had to. Sanzu likes late nights too but caging him up here seemed like asking for problems.” He went back to his game. “I'd rather be up late than deal with Ran being pissy for days on end. Make yourself at home or whatever.”

She brought her tea over and sat in a chair nearest to the couch. Her attention kept catching on his arm and her curiosity got the best of her. “Does your tattoo go up your whole arm?”

“Whole right side,” he corrected, not looking away from the screen. “Ran’s got the left. We’re like a matching set.”

“Sorry- the whole side of your body?” she needed to make sure she heard correctly.

“Yep.” He paused the game again, shifted slightly to pull his collar aside and reveal how the pattern continued across his shoulder, disappearing towards his chest. “Put us together and the patterns line up. Complete each other."

She tried to picture it. Ran’s left side covered in an almost mirror image - the same intricate work, the same design. What it would look like under his perfectly tailored suits, those expensive shirts that never wrinkled–

She caught herself. Pushed the thought away before it could seep deeper in her mind. Why had that been her first thought?

“Very symbolic.” Rindou continued, oblivious to the direction her mind had wandered. “Sanzu thinks it’s disgustingly codependent.”

“When did you get them?”

“Too young probably.” He went back to his game. “Wanted something permanent. Honestly just wanted to look harder. Intimidate people.”

She absorbed that. Two halves designed to complete each other. It was honestly poetic. Kind of sweet, in a way that probably neither brother would appreciate being called.

“Must be nice,” she said quietly. “Having someone like that.”

“Yeah.” He kept playing. “Even when he’s being an ass.”

They sat in comfortable silence. Watching the game play out on the TV. “You know,” she said eventually, “you all went through my apartment, pulled all my records. But I know next to nothing about you all.”

Rindou didn’t look away from the screen. “You want the tragic backstory, ask Ran.”

“...That’s a deflection.”

He didn’t respond. She recognized the door closing and decided not to press him further.

“I know you’ve got this whole no one will ever accept me bullshit going on but–” he paused his game, set the controller aside. “Everyone actually seems to like you.”

“What?”

“Yeah, you’re still a pain in the ass especially with all the security logistics, but you seem to fit in.” He still didn’t look at her, finding something interesting in his hands instead. “You seem to be pretty good at your job too, so we’re keeping you.”

“...Just like that?” She tried to keep the shock out of her voice but failed. She never sought their approval but also never considered they would give it to her either.

“What, you want a ceremony?” He finally looked at her, expression caught somewhere between amusement and exasperation. “Sanzu has already been telling everyone that you’re his little sister. Anyone that fucks with you answers to him.”

She swallowed “I- I didn’t know that.”

“Well, now you do.” He picked up his controller again. “Congrats on the adoption.”

She sipped her tea and let the words sink in, become real. Family. She had family again. Chosen this time but found in the strangest place imaginable.

“Ran can be a dick sometimes,” Rindou said, eyes back on the screen. “But if he actually doesn’t like someone, he makes it pretty obvious.” He paused his game briefly and glanced at her. “Take that how you want.”

The realization of Ran’s actions the past few weeks sat heavier with her now.

“That’s a low bar.” She said, trying to disguise the direction of her thoughts.

“Yeah, well that’s Ran.” He continued his game. “Just so you know, he’s got an insane sweet tooth. You ever need to bribe him out of a bad mood, Mont Blanc solves everything.”

She glanced at him, “You’re serious?”

“His one weakness. Pathetic, honestly.” There was affection under his sarcasm. “Can’t tell you how many times I’ve escaped his wrath with a little bougie pastry. Used to throw parties when I was younger and piss off the sleeping beauty. He’d come out with his baton ready to kill someone." Rindou almost smiled at this memory. “I’d just put a Mont Blanc in front of him and suddenly all was forgiven as long as he could go back to sleep.”

“That’s…weirdly cute.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that.” he actually laughed. “But yeah, useful information for future reference.”

They sat in silence again. The game continued one screen but Rindou stopped playing. Just holding the controller now, attention elsewhere.

After a while, he said, “You seem to be doing better. You were… pretty fucked up when you got here.”

She didn’t argue.

“Losing everything can do that,” he added. Then, quieter, like he already regretted continuing, “Someone told me once grief’s like scar tissue. Looks bad, hurts like hell while it's forming. But once it heals? It’s stronger than what you had before.”

The observation hung in the air between them. The kind of truth that came from experience rather than theory. Then his tone shifted back, irritation creeping in. “Or whatever. Just some shit I heard once.”

She didn’t say anything. Just took in the words he had offered her.

Rindou noticed anyway. “Ohh, don’t you dare get sappy.” He picked the controller back up. “Go to bed. You look like shit.”

She rolled her eyes and laughed, “The Haitanis really have a way with charming women.”

He smiled and shrugged at her accusation with zero remorse.

She stood and brought her mug to the kitchen. Paused at the bedroom door, and turned back. “Night Rin.”

"Night."

She went to bed and for once sleep came easier.

Day nineteen. Nearly three weeks in the safe house.

Three weeks.

Endless days of the same walls, same windows, same cage.

"You're extra fidgety today," Ran observed without looking up.

"I'm fine."

"You've paced past me six times in the last ten minutes." He still hadn't lifted his eyes from the screen. "You're very much not fine."

She stopped and turned to find him watching her now, phone lowered, that lazy attention that somehow caught everything.

"I just-" The words stuck. She didn't know how to finish, unsure of what she needed.

"I think you need air," he said simply.

"I'm fine-"

"Second time you've said that. Still unconvincing." He stood, already reaching for his jacket. "Get dressed. We're leaving."

"What?"

"You're clawing at the walls and I'm bored." He shrugged into the jacket easily. "We're going out. Ten minutes."

"I can't just-"

"Why not?" he interrupted.

She opened her mouth. Closed it. Realized she didn't actually have a reason beyond the careful boundaries she'd been living inside.

"Where are we going?" she asked instead.

"Does it matter?"

She hadn't considered that. "No. I guess it doesn't"

"Then get dressed. Wear something warm, it's cold out."

Twenty minutes later, they were in his car. Windows cracked despite the evening chill. Cold air rushed in, carrying the scent of rain and asphalt. She breathed deeper with every block they put between her and the safe house.

The city opened up around them - neon bleeding into the sky, streetlights flickering on in waves. 

"You miss it?" Ran asked.

"Miss what?"

"Being out there. Being normal."

She watched people walking down the streets they passed. "I don't know if I was ever normal."

"Fair point. I mean, you did choose to launder money for organized crime." he teased.

“I chose-" she stopped herself for a moment but decided to continue. "I chose to try to save someone.” Her voice came out quiet. “The crime was just the only way to do it.”

The car sat in silence for a moment. She waited for him to say something. Make it smaller, turn it into a joke, but he didn't.

He just drove and somehow that made it easier to breathe. She just told him something deeply personal. Something that mattered to her. And for the first time, she didn’t regret opening up to someone.

She watched everything blur past - buildings shifting from residential to industrial, the landscape changing as they drove deeper into areas she didn’t recognize.

He turned down another street - steel buildings hulking against the darkening sky. Shuttered windows. Graffiti littered across concrete. 

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"You said it didn't matter."

"Well..." she took another look at the bleak scenery. "I'm sort of curious now."

"Tsk tsk, Curiosity killed the accountant."

She looked at him - profile lit by passing streetlights, features carved in alternating shadow and gold.

He glanced over and caught her staring. "What?"

"Nothing." She looked away, heat creeping up her neck. "Just trying to figure out if you're taking me somewhere to kill me after all."

"If I were, you'd never see it coming." But there was amusement in his voice. "Besides, Sanzu would kill me if I killed you. He's very attached to his new sibling."

"How sweet. I'm protected by the threat of fratricide."

"That's basically our love language."

The waterfront emerged gradually - buildings giving way to open sky, the smell of salt and rust and fish. Industrial lots and shipping containers stacked like monuments to commerce. Nothing pretty about it. Just space and the dark depths of Tokyo Bay.

He pulled into an empty lot and silence rushed in all at once - real silence, not the artificial quiet of the safe house. 

"Come on."

She followed him to a low concrete wall overlooking the bay. The surface was cold and rough under her palms. The city behind them, a carpet of light stretching to the horizon. Ahead, the water moved dark and restless, catching reflections and scattering them. 

The wind hit her face, sharp with salt, carrying spray from the bay, cold enough to sting. She closed her eyes and let it wash over her. When she opened them again that hollow space in her chest didn’t feel quite so empty anymore.

"Better?" Ran asked after a while.

"Yeah." She pulled her jacket tighter, welcoming the bite of wind. "Thank you for this."

"Don't thank me yet. We might get murdered out here."

"You picked the location."

"And? I have terrible judgment."

"Clearly. You've spent three weeks choosing to babysitting me."

But his mouth curved - that small smile that barely qualified as one but changed his entire face.

They sat in comfortable silence. Waves lapping against concrete pilings. Metal groaning somewhere in the distance.

"I kind of forgot what outside felt like," she said quietly.

"Yeah, three weeks inside will do that." He leaned back, hands braced behind him. The motion tugged his shirt just enough for dark ink to flash at his collarbone before she looked away.

She was quiet after that. Just watching the water. Getting a bit lost in her own thoughts.

“I still can’t understand how I ended up here,” she admitted. “With you all. Doing…this.”

“Does that bother you?”

“I mean-- no...it doesn't.” She almost smiled. “It’s just strange that it doesn’t feel, I don't know- strange anymore. I know, that probably sounds ridiculous.”

He was quiet for a moment, watching ships move across the bay. “Maybe you’re starting to see yourself as one of us.” he said finally. Voice quieter. “You just haven’t quite accepted it yet.

She looked at him, his gaze fixed on waves in the distance, his profile lit by distant city lights.

“It's like you keep waiting for permission,” he continued. “For someone to tell you it’s ok to be here.” He turned to look at her then, and the city lights caught his eyes. “No one is going to give you that. You just have to take it.”

Something in the directness of his gaze made her breath catch.

It wasn't the proximity - she had gotten used to that. The way he existed in her space without crowding.

This was different. The way he was looking at her. Like he could see right through her.

She looked away first. Back to the water. Back to somewhere safe.

"I- I'm not sure I knowhow to do that."

"Sure you do. You've been doing it." His voice was quieter now. "You just don't trust yourself yet."

"What if I mess it up?" she asked. "What if I do something that makes you all realize I don't actually fit?"

"Then you'll figure it out. We all fuck up." He shrugged. "I once stabbed someone for looking at me wrong at a club."

"That actually does seem excessive."

"You weren't there. Trust me. He deserved it."

Despite everything - the cold, the uncertainty, the strangeness of her life - she laughed. Actually laughed and the sound surprised her.

Ran's expression softened into something pleased underneath the usual lazy amusement, like he'd won something.

"You finally appeared. Not that performative version you. Just the real you."

His observation hit hard. Because he was right. She'd been performing for so long that she'd forgotten what just existing felt like. What taking up space without justification felt like.

"I don't know if I know how to be just me anymore," she admitted.

"Give yourself a little credit, you're doing it now."

She looked at him. He was watching her with that focused attention that always caught her off guard, like she was the only thing in his field of vision worth noticing. 

"You're staring, Haitani." she said.

"So were you"

Heat crept up her neck. "Ugh, you’re insufferable." She wanted to argue, but she couldn't quite manage it. The words stuck somewhere in her throat.

They sat quietly after that. Comfortable in the silence that didn't need filling.

"Can I ask you something?" she said eventually.

"Sure, I'm feeling generous today."

"Why you?" She looked at him. "You could've assigned anyone to watch me these past few weeks. Why did youvolunteer?"

Ran was quiet for a long moment. Watching the water, expression unreadable in the half-light.

"Honestly?" he finally said. “I wanted to see if you’d break,” he said finally. “Most people would have and candidly I love watching when it happens.” His eyes sharpened on her. “But, you somehow didn’t.”

"It's not exactly like I had a choice."

“Eh, you had choices, albeit not great ones.” He glanced back at her. “But you chose to stay anyway. You could have made our lives hell - and you’re stubborn enough to do it. I’ve known Sanzu half my life, I recognize the trait.” His mouth cracked into a smirk. “But you didn’t and that’s worth paying attention to.”

"You sound like you approve," she said quietly.

“You’re still here. That should tell you enough.”

Something in her chest tightened. 

"Careful," she said, trying for lightness. "That almost sounded like you actually like having me around."

“Don’t push your luck.” But a small smile flashed across his lips.

The comfortable silence stretched again. But this time, heavier with things neither of them could name.

"We should head back," Ran said eventually. "Before Sanzu decides I've actually kidnapped you and calls in an airstrike."

He offered her a hand.

She hesitated - just long enough to notice. Then took it.

His hand was warm, solid, callused in unexpected places. He pulled her up easily, and for a moment - just a moment - they were closer than necessary. She let go quickly and stepped back. 

The drive back was quieter. Soft music drifted through the car - soft, and nostalgic. The station was still on whatever Sanzu had left on it earlier, some retro city pop that made Tokyo at night feel like a movie. Made her life feel less like survival and more like something worth living.

Ran didn't try to fill the silence. Just drove, taking the long way back without acknowledging it. 

She watched him from the corner of her eye. The line of his jaw. The hint of ink at his wrist. The way he moved through the world like he'd already won whatever game they didn't know they were playing.

Sanzu's description echoed in her head. Intelligent. Smart but doesn't show off. Dangerous but controlled. 

She pushed the thought away and looked out the window instead.

But it lingered. Like the warmth of his hand.

When they pulled into the garage, she didn't move immediately. Just sat there, engine ticking as it cooled.

"Hey Haitani."

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad it was you. These past few weeks."

He looked at her. Something shifted in his expression - brief, unreadable, but there. 

The apartment door closed behind them with a soft click and for the first time in three weeks the space felt different. Less like a cage, more like somewhere she was choosing to be. With people she was choosing to be around.

With him.

She pushed that thought away too.

But it lingered anyway.

Like everything else about him.

chapter 5

She didn’t remember the elevator ride.

One moment she was sitting in the passenger seat watching the city disappear, feeling numb to the world around her. The next she was standing in a hallway that smelled like new carpet and stale air. Ran’s hand at her elbow guiding her forward.

Twenty third floor. High enough that street sounds wouldn’t reach.

Ran stopped at a door indistinguishable from the others. Used a keycard and pushed it open, stepping aside to let her enter through first.

The apartment was exactly what she had expected and that somehow made it felt worse.

Floor to ceiling windows offering panoramic views of the Tokyo night sky - city lights sprawling like scattered diamonds. Furniture that looked curated rather than lived in.

Everything designed for appearances. Nothing suggesting anyone had actually lived here. 

The air here was still. Too still. She waited for the background noise she learned to live inside of. Traffic from outside, voices arguing through thin walls, anything to indicate some form of human life.

But there was nothing...

The silence felt suffocating, leaving her with nothing but the sound of her breathing and the uncomfortable clarity of thinking too well, unable to drown out that voice inside your head screaming too loudly.

Behind her, the door closed, locks engaging automatically. There was no tour. This was just a different type of containment...dressed as luxurious protection.

Ran moved past her, glancing around the apartment.

“Bathroom’s right through there,” he said. “Bedroom’s yours, the linens are clean.” He was just reciting information.

“Will you be here tonight?” she asked.

“Yeah. Others will rotate in. Rindou tomorrow, maybe Takeomi or Kakucho at some point.”

“Oh. I forgot, you have other work."

“yeah...I have other work.” he confirmed. “But- This is just temporary.”

“How temporary?”

“Honestly, I can’t give you a straight answer. Not until we’re sure no one is actively hunting you.” He met her eyes. “It could be days. Could be weeks.”

She picked up her bag and started walking toward the bedroom, then stopped.

“The bedroom,” she said carefully. “I’d prefer if the door stays closed when i’m sleeping.”

Ran’s gaze lifted.

“Not locked,” she added. “Just closed... If something happens, you can get in. But I’d like the threshold respected otherwise.”

He studdied her. Trying to determine if there was an angle. Weighing the options carefully in his head. He could push, he thought, remind her how conditional her autonomy was...But he didn’t.

“Fine. It can remain closed,” he said. “But if I hear anything-”

She nodded once, cutting him off before he could finish. “I understand.”

She closed the bedroom door behind her. The sound of the door latching shut was small and ordinary, yet that somehow undid her. Everything ugly she kept down the past few days, finally bubbling up to the surface.

The room was untouched and pristine in a way that felt so wrong. A bed that had never known a body, a nightstand that held nothing, a window overlooking a city that didn’t know her name.

It didn’t smell like her. Why was that the thing that broke through?

Her apartment had smelled like coffee and old books and her.

This place smelled like nothing. It didn't smell like her. It was like it was reminding her that she had never existed at all.

Her breath finally caught at the thought. Legs failing, giving out beneath her as she sank against the door. The carpet swallowing the sound of her body crumpling down.

The first sound that escaped her wasn’t a sob. It was a laugh - thin, broken, and almost disbelieving.

Everything was gone. Not just her apartment, or her job. 

The version of herself who believed any of it had been real. Who thought she could control anything. Who ironically pushed the boulder uphill because she didn’t know what else to do in her pathetic life. That person didn’t exist anymore...and she didn’t know who was left.

Her face scrunched up and she pressed her palm against her mouth. But the pressure built until the sound finally clawed out of her throat.

She cried. Silently at first. Then louder and messier.

She cried because she was alone. Truly alone in a way she never let herself feel before.

She cried because she was afraid. Afraid of everyone that existed outside of that door. Afraid of what she would become. Afraid that this was all there was now - survival without purpose, work without meaning, pushing the boulder because stopping... well, stoping meant dying.

She folded over her knees and let it tear through her. She allowed herself break in the only space she had been given to do it.

Outside, the apartment was still.

Ran heard it.

His hand moved on instinct, stopping an inch from the handle. He stopped himself and stayed where he was. Letting the door remained closed.

He leaned back against the wall instead. The kind of stillness for Ran Haitani wasn’t easy or passive - it was leashed. Restrained in a way that required effort on his part.

He didn’t need to see her to know what was happening on the other side of that door. The sounds echoing through the apartment told him enough.

He also didn’t need to step in. She had drawn a line. Asked for the threshold to be respected. He was more than capable of crossing it - he had crossed plenty of lines before without hesitation or consequence.

Yet in this instance, he chose not to. Which frankly, was new.

When the sounds finally stopped - the silence growing uncomfortably in the space - he still didn’t move.

Just waited.

His back against the wall, hands in his pockets. Eyes focusing on nothing in particular.

Inside when she finally stopped, she didn’t move for a long time. Just sat there, trying to steady her breathing.

Eventually she stood, catching her reflection in the darkened window to see someone red eyed and unrecognizable.

Despite this, she took another breath, straightened her posture and tried to smooth out her hair. Taking a moment to put her mask back on piece by careful piece. 

Because that was what survival looked like now.

When the door opened - an hour later, maybe more - her face was still blotchy, eyes still puffy and red, but her expression was surprisingly composed. She didn’t try to hide the evidence. And she didn’t apologize for it.

Just met his eyes across the room, exactly where she had left him. But there was tea on the counter now - still steaming and recently made. He hadn’t asked if she wanted it. Just made it available.

Their eyes held for a second longer than they should have.

She was stung at the thought when she realized he had heard her, he knew. But he made a choice too... he let the door stay closed.

And now there was tea.

She was allowed the dignity of choosing when to finally break and was given the privacy to do so.

It shouldn’t have mattered as much as it did.