CHAPTER 16

The city lights of Kyoto shimmered outside the High Central Bar, casting long shadows on the polished wooden floor. Inside, the atmosphere buzzed with conversation and laughter. The soft hum of jazz music filled the space, blending seamlessly with the clinking of glasses and occasional bursts of drunken cheer.

At a table near the window, Yoshi, Kei, Rina, and Kerin sat together, celebrating Rina's achievement. The excitement was evident on her face as she sipped from her cocktail, her eyes sparkling under the dim, warm lights.

"I still can't believe I got selected for this internship," Rina gushed, her voice filled with excitement. "This is huge for me!"

"You earned it," Kei said, raising his glass. "To Rina's success!"

They clinked their glasses together. Yoshi smiled as he took a small sip of his drink—he wasn't a heavy drinker, but tonight was a special occasion. He leaned back in his chair, feeling the warmth of the moment.

But little did he know, a pair of eyes had been on him the entire time.

From a dimly lit corner of the bar, Osamu watched, his gaze never leaving Yoshi. He had followed him here, just like he always did. Keeping track of his whereabouts had become second nature. Yoshi had no idea who he was, but that didn't matter to Osamu. He knew everything about Yoshi.

And tonight… tonight, he had seen something that made his blood boil.

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The Drunken Encounter

Yoshi stood from his seat. "I'll be back in a minute," he said, excusing himself as he headed toward the restroom. The hallway leading to it was quieter, dimly lit compared to the main bar area.

Just as he was about to turn the corner, someone stumbled into him—a drunken man, reeking of alcohol and sweat.

"Oops… sorry there, pretty boy," the man slurred, his lips curling into a smirk. "Didn't see ya there. Or maybe… I did."

Yoshi stiffened, his instincts on high alert. The man's eyes were glazed over, his stance unstable, but the way he lingered too close made Yoshi's skin crawl.

"Step aside," Yoshi said, his voice calm yet firm.

But the drunk only grinned wider, reaching out as if to touch Yoshi's face.

"Oh, come on now, don't be so cold—"

CRACK.

The next second, the man was on the floor.

One punch. That was all it took.

Yoshi shook his hand, rolling his wrist as if brushing off dust. The man groaned, completely knocked out. The alcohol had made him weak, and Yoshi knew how to throw a proper punch. He wasn't just some helpless boy who could be cornered.

Still, he didn't make a big deal out of it. It was over. Not worth another thought.

But someone else thought differently.

From the shadows, Osamu clenched his fists so hard his nails dug into his palm. He had seen everything.

"That bastard touched him," Osamu thought darkly, his jaw tightening. He knew Yoshi could handle himself, but that didn't matter. The idea of someone even daring to lay a hand on his Yoshi made his blood boil.

Something inside him snapped.

This would not go unpunished.

---

The Mysterious Gift

The celebration ended late into the night, and Yoshi finally returned home. Kei was with him, the two walking side by side in comfortable silence.

Ding!

Yoshi's phone vibrated. A notification.

It was from an unknown number.

"Go out and pick up your gift."

Yoshi stopped in his tracks, staring at the screen. What the hell?

As if on cue, the doorbell rang.

Kei, who had already taken off his coat, frowned. "Who could that be at this hour?"

Yoshi hesitated for a moment. "It's nothing," he said quickly, pushing Kei toward his room. "Go to bed, I'll handle it."

Kei narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, it's probably just… a delivery or something," Yoshi lied.

Kei didn't seem convinced, but he didn't press further. With a shrug, he disappeared into his room, closing the door behind him.

Yoshi exhaled slowly before walking toward the entrance. His heart pounded slightly, but he ignored it.

Just as he was about to open the door—

A small envelope slid in from under the door.

Yoshi bent down and picked it up. No sender name. No markings. Just a simple, crisp white envelope.

Slowly, he turned it over.

His breath caught in his throat.

On the front, in elegant, cursive handwriting, were the words:

"A gift from your hubby."

---

Rina had spent the evening celebrating her greatest achievement yet—securing the internship she had dreamed of for years. The excitement, the laughter, and the endless toasts had left her warm and dizzy, her heart full. But by the time she returned to her bedroom, exhaustion settled in, wrapping around her like a heavy blanket.

She collapsed onto her bed, barely able to keep her eyes open when her phone lit up with a notification. A name she hadn't seen in a while flashed across the screen.

Yuchi.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Ever since the car incident, she had gone out of her way to avoid him, too embarrassed to face him again. Yet, after all this time, he was the one to reach out first. Hesitating for only a moment, she tapped the message open.

Yuchi: Why did you drink so much today? You know I don't like seeing you like that in front of others.

Rina's lips parted in surprise, then pressed into a thin line. A strange mix of emotions bubbled inside her—annoyance, confusion, and something deeper, something that made her chest tighten. She had never been restricted by anyone, not even her parents. And now, Yuchi was trying to tell her what to do?

Even if she liked him, that didn't mean he had the right to control her.

Her fingers moved quickly across the screen.

Rina: I'll do whatever I want.

Without waiting for a reply, she switched off her phone and tossed it onto the nightstand. With a quiet sigh, she decided to take a bath, hoping the warm water would wash away the tension building inside her.

The soothing heat of the bath melted away her exhaustion, leaving her relaxed and calm. Wrapped in a towel, she stepped into her dimly lit bedroom, letting her long, damp hair fall freely down her back. She slipped into a simple white nightdress—soft, airy, and short enough to brush against her thighs. After applying her night moisturizer, she finally climbed into bed, curling up beneath the cool sheets, ready to lose herself in sleep.

But just as her body was about to surrender to the darkness, she felt something—warmth, a weight pressing against her.

Her lashes fluttered open.

Before she could process what was happening, a familiar warmth enveloped her lips. A kiss. Deep, gentle, yet possessive.

Yuchi.

A soft gasp left her as her body tensed, her hands instinctively pushing against his firm chest, but he didn't move away. His scent—clean, musky, intoxicating—wrapped around her, pulling her into a haze of confusion and longing. His fingers traced the side of her face, brushing against her damp hair as if savoring the moment.

Her heart pounded in her chest.

How had he gotten in? Why was he here?

When he finally pulled back, his dark eyes burned into hers, his expression unreadable yet filled with something unspoken, something she wasn't sure she was ready to understand.

"You can do whatever you want," he murmured, his voice low, rough, and dangerously soft. "But so can I."

A shiver ran down her spine—not from fear, but from the intensity of the moment.

He was here. He had come for her.

And no matter how much she tried to deny it, a part of her had been waiting for him all along.

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