Kaito's perfectly controlled expression flickered. For the first time since he'd walked into her store, he looked momentarily thrown.
"A cat?" he repeated.
"Yes. A cat." Aiko said, clutching the lapels of his heavy jacket.
"He's a fat, spoiled orange tabby and he's probably terrified right now. He needs to be fed. His litter box needs to be cleaned. I can't just leave him there!"
Kaito's composure returned in an instant.
"I will have one of my men retrieve it."
"No!"
Aiko said, her voice sharp with a surprising strength.
The thought of one of the thugs from the alley, or someone like them, breaking into her home and grabbing her terrified cat filled her with a hot wave of anger.
"Absolutely not. Mochi doesn't know them. He'll hide. He'll be scared out of his mind. I'm the only one he'll come to. I'm going."
"It is not a request, Tanaka-san," Kaito said, his voice dangerously low.
"It's a fact. It is too dangerous for you to go back there."
"And it's too dangerous for my cat if I don't," she shot back, taking a step forward.
For the first time, she wasn't cowering. She was fighting for something.
"I don't care about your Yakuza rules or your clan wars. That is my cat, and he is my responsibility. I am not abandoning him."
They stood there in a silent standoff in the middle of the vast, empty apartment. The powerful clan heir and the convenience store clerk. For a long moment, Aiko was sure he would refuse, that he would have her locked in this room. But then, she saw another flicker in his eyes. It wasn't anger. It was something closer to… assessment. As if he was seeing her, truly seeing her, for the first time.
He let out a long, quiet breath.
"Fine," he conceded, the word cutting through the tension.
"We will go. Together."
Aiko blinked, surprised by her victory.
"Together?"
"You will not leave my sight for a single second," he commanded.
"We get in, we get the cat and a few of its things, and we get out. Five minutes. Maximum. You will do exactly as I say, without question. Are we clear?"
"Crystal," Aiko said, a surge of relief making her feel almost dizzy.
The ride back to her neighborhood was even more tense than the first one. Kaito parked a block away from her building, in a spot shrouded by shadows.
"Stay here," he ordered, and melted out of the car. He was gone for less than a minute before he reappeared at her door.
"The street is clear. Let's go."
Her own apartment building suddenly looked like enemy territory. Kaito moved silently up the stairs, a shadow at her back. When they reached her door, he held up a hand, listening, before nodding for her to unlock it.
The moment she stepped inside, the familiar smell of her home—of green tea, laundry detergent, and Mochi's cat food—hit her. It felt like a lifetime ago that she had left for her shift.
"Mochi?" she called out softly.
A faint meow answered from the bedroom. Aiko rushed in and found the fat orange cat hiding under her bed, his eyes wide. She scooped him into her arms, burying her face in his soft fur. He purred loudly, a rumbling engine of comfort.
Kaito stood in the doorway of her small, cluttered bedroom, watching them. He looked entirely out of place, a dark specter of violence in her sanctuary of cozy blankets and stacks of books. He watched her stroke the cat, his expression unreadable.
"Get his carrier and his food," he said, his voice softer than before. "Quickly."
Aiko nodded, grabbing the plastic cat carrier, a bag of food, and his favorite toy mouse. As she packed the small bag, her foot kicked something under the edge of her rug. A small, white object. She bent down and picked it up.
It was a cigarette butt. A brand she didn't smoke.
Her blood ran cold. She never allowed smoking in her apartment. She looked around the room, her eyes seeing it with a new, terrifying clarity. The window near the fire escape was unlocked. She always locked it. And there was a faint, unfamiliar scent in the air, hidden beneath the familiar ones.
Something musky and unpleasant.
Someone had been in her apartment.
She turned to Kaito, her eyes wide with fear, holding up the cigarette butt. His gaze sharpened instantly. He crossed the room in two silent strides, his eyes scanning every corner.
He looked at the unlocked window, then back at her. His face was grim.
"We're leaving," he said, his voice a low, urgent command.
"Now!"