The sound of Kaito's voice from the other room was a low, dangerous murmur. Aiko couldn't understand the Japanese, but she understood the tone. It was the sound of a commander giving orders. Cold, precise, and absolute.
She pushed herself up from the floor, her body aching with a bone-deep exhaustion. Mochi purred and rubbed against her leg, a small, warm anchor in this strange new world. Her first thought was for him.
"Okay, buddy," she whispered. "Let's get you settled."
She explored the apartment with the cat trotting curiously at her heels. It was a place of contradictions. It had everything you could possibly need, but nothing you could ever want. The kitchen was stocked with gourmet food, but the packages were all unopened. In the bathroom, expensive soaps and towels were laid out like in a hotel.
She opened a closet door and found clothes. Women's clothes. Simple, elegant basics—sweaters, pants, shirts—all in neutral colors. All, she realized with a jolt, in her size. The tags were still on. This wasn't a home. It was a safe house. A pre-prepared cage, waiting for an occupant. The thought sent a chill down her spine.
She found a ceramic bowl for Mochi's food and water and fashioned a makeshift litter box out of a cardboard box and some shredded paper from a recycling bin. The simple, domestic tasks helped to quiet the frantic buzzing in her mind.
When Kaito finally emerged from the other room, the sun had begun to set, painting the sky outside the massive windows in shades of orange and purple. He had taken off his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt, revealing more of the dark, intricate tattoos that coiled around his forearms. He looked less like a CEO and more like what he was: a Yakuza.
"What happens now?" Aiko asked, her voice quiet.
He looked at the sprawling city below. "Now, we wait. The Kageyama made a move. My family will make a move in return. It will be... loud. You are safer here, where they can't use you as a pawn."
"A pawn? Is that what I am?"
"To them, you are a weakness to be exploited," he corrected, his voice flat. "Here, you are protected. It is a tactical reality."
He spoke about her life as if it were a strategy game. The coldness of it was jarring. Out of a strange, defiant impulse to do something normal, she went to the kitchen. She found an electric kettle and a box of simple green tea.
"Do you want some?" she asked, her back to him.
There was a long pause. "Yes," he said, the word sounding slightly surprised, as if it were a request he hadn't expected.
She made the tea in two simple white mugs. She brought one to him where he stood by the window. Their fingers brushed as he took the cup, and a jolt of unexpected warmth shot up her arm. He was real. Not just a monster or a clan leader, but a man holding a cup of tea.
"How long?" she asked. "How long do I have to stay here?"
"Until the head of the Kageyama clan understands his mistake and is no longer in a position to repeat it," he said, his words a cold promise of violence. He took a slow sip of the tea. "It is better if you do not count the days."
The finality in his voice was absolute. This was her life now.
Later, when the city was a blanket of glittering lights, he showed her to the master bedroom. It had a bed big enough for four people and its own bathroom.
"You'll sleep here," he said.
"And you?" she asked before she could stop herself.
"The couch is fine. I don't sleep much anyway," he replied, his expression unreadable. He turned to leave.
"Kaito," she said, and he paused at the door. It was the first time she had used his given name. "Thank you. For... for Mochi."
He gave a single, sharp nod and then closed the door, leaving her alone.
Aiko let Mochi out of the carrier, and he immediately started exploring the vast room. She walked to the giant window and looked out at the endless river of lights. Her city. The place where her small, orderly life had existed just twenty-four hours ago. It was so close she could almost touch it, but it was a world away.
She was safe. She was a ghost in her own city. And her only connection to the world was the dangerous, tattooed man in the next room who had vowed to protect her.