Naked Truth

. . .

"I bet I am," Miura Takumi said.

Zeirenne arched her eyebrows, measuring up to his stares, "What makes you think tha-?"

Before she could finish her sardonic question, the door swung open once again.

In great panic, Willy came running inside the room. A black robe he was gripping tightly flew beside him. He immediately bowed his head in front of his master, extending the silk robe out, "You forgot to wear your robe, Miura-dono."

All the men outside the room had to bow their heads down. They were not worthy enough to gaze into Miura Takumi... and his naked figure.

Despite this uncanny scenario, Miura Takumi and Zeirenne didn't budge in their positions.

They kept their fiery gazes stabbed in each other's. Without breaking eye contact, Miura Takumi spread his limbs out, and Willy obliged to dress him.

"You're forgetting something, Miss Lin," he uttered in a dangerous tone.

Zeirenne only contested this with a smirk. She crossed her arms in front—tapping a foot on the floor, "Tell me about it, Miura-san."

"I can let you meet your creator whenever I want."

Zeirenne covered her mouth to suppress a mocking gasp, "Oh! Then I'll thank you for that. I've been meaning to meet him for a long time!" she pressed her hands together before bobbing a bow—as if thanking the ever magnanimous Miura Takumi for his offer of killing her.

"You're stupid," Miura Takumi snapped.

Willy who was in the middle of tying his master's robe had his fingers frozen on the spot. He was crouching down in the middle of these two colliding storms—with his back facing Zeirenne, he felt the blizzard creeping up from behind.

She was glaring at Miura Takumi, he was sure.

"I'm sorry? I didn't catch that," Zeirenne said with a sweet-sweet smile on her face.

One man outside the room looked up intrigued; just to regret his decision after seeing Zeirenne's frightening smile. He shivered on his knees—immediately reverting his gaze on the icy floor. It was cold, but her eyes were colder.

Miura Takumi put his hands down after Willy finished dressing him up, "I said you're stupid."

"And why is that?" she beamed with the same smile—gritting her teeth underneath.

"You're throwing your life away just for a single song? How stupid," Miura Takumi clenched his jaw, "I'm giving you a second chance to rethink your decision..."

Willy was surprised to hear this, and just like him, every man outside the room eyed one another. "Miura-dono never gives second chances," their thoughts echoed.

Everyone waited in anticipation for Miura Takumi's conditions—except Zeirenne, who still seemed disinterested (and triggered).

"Tell me everything about this song and I'll let you off. I'll spare you this one time."

Zeirenne raised her eyebrows. Just like her, everyone had the same thoughts running inside their heads, "Why is this song so important to Miura Takumi that he's willing to let his prey escape?"

She seemed amused by his suggestion, but lines started appearing on Miura Takumi's forehead when her answer contradicted her expression, "You're more stupid," she said, and all the muscular bodies listening on their conversation turned into useless blobs.

The men almost fell on their knees. This time, from Miura Takumi's fiery aura. For the first time in a long while, they started praying to the heavens for their lives. It was obvious from their master's expression, Miura Takumi was more than ticked off.

Zeirenne was unfazed. She smirked before continuing, "I could ask you the same. Why would you take my life just for a single song? What does this song mean to you? And if I can guess, you know nothing about it, don't you?"

In a snap, Miura Takumi grabbed her shirt, pulling her up to see him eye to eye, "Don't bite more than what you can chew, woman," he said before pushing her away, "It's none of your business."

Fortunately, she was fast enough to move a foot backward. Still, his strength was enough to tear a ligament. She shrugged the pain off before pinning her daggers towards Miura Takumi, "What I do with my life is none of your business either."

With this answer, Miura Takumi reached his limits, "Willy!"

His subordinate took a long stride forward, "Yes, Miura-dono?"

"I think we're treating our guest rather nicely. Make sure she stays inside this room. Let her starve to death!" Miura Takumi stepped out of her room.

Willy surveyed her from head to toe; shaking his head before following his master out; banging the door along the way. She heard a lock clicking outside as dozens of footsteps started dispersing away from her door. Only two guards were left outside, she could guess.

"How did he know my weakness?" Zeirenne clenched her fist, "Miura Takumi... how dare you use food against me!" She took one of her slippers off before throwing it towards the door, "That's low!"

With fumes coming out of her head, she had to get her mind together somehow, "No... I shouldn't be letting that bastard get on my nerves. Urgh."

It took her a few minutes to calm herself with deep breaths; she sauntered towards the bed, limping on one foot to prevent further damage. After sitting on the side, she opened the antique nightstand to search for something she could use to write with.

There was a quill-pen, and a bottled ink inside the bottom drawer. With no paper around, she rolled her eyes and sighed before limping her way towards the grand piano. She opened the piano bench, (most piano benches have compartments) and took one sheet underneath. She closed the piano lid to use it as her table.

Using her reliable photographic memory, she drew what she'd seen earlier. In fact, she saw everything there was to see—at least before the robe disrupted her view.

Now, she's drawing them in great detail so she can take the picture off her head. After finishing a detailed sketch, something clicked inside her mind.

Once again, she limped towards the antique dresser from earlier—the one with a thin object slipped in between the crevasses. She nudged the drawer little by little while pulling out a paper-like thing. After a few seconds, she pulled it out. Fortunately, she was fast enough to hold on to the dresser. She would have lost her balance and fell on the floor.

Before the predictable tragedy could happen, she limped towards her bed to gaze into it better. It was a photo. There she saw something unexpected.

"Why does he have a picture of our emblem?" she glared towards the door as if her eyes could pass through the walls on the way the other room, "Who in the world are you, Miura Takumi?"

. . .