The Chaos Within

The soft glow of the desk lamp bathed the room in a warm, golden light, casting long shadows on the walls. Hime sat cross-legged on the bed, her posture relaxed but her focus razor-sharp. Kazuki lingered in the doorway, leaning against the frame as he watched her, his arms crossed.

She was wearing one of his shirts, the oversized fabric hanging loosely around her frame, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. It should have been endearing, domestic even, but something about her intense focus on the tablet in her lap sparked an ache in his chest.

Kazuki's sharp eyes narrowed. It wasn't just irritation that she was ignoring him—it was something deeper. Watching her like this, so consumed by her work, stirred a fear he couldn't name. She was always calculating, always thinking two, three steps ahead, but this independence of hers… it was dangerous. She was dangerous—to herself. And that thought infuriated him.

As she tapped away on her screen, her lips moved faintly, whispering things he couldn't hear. The lines of her face were drawn with tension, but her expression was otherwise serene, almost mesmerizing.

Kazuki stepped forward. "Hime."

She didn't look up. Her fingers danced across the screen, her mind far from the room they shared.

"Hime," he repeated, his voice firmer this time.

Still, she didn't react.

The familiar twinge of jealousy flared in his chest—jealousy of her focus, of the chaos she so willingly dove into while she shut him out. Kazuki clenched his jaw, his patience snapping. In two strides, he crossed the room, reaching for the tablet.

Before she could react, he pushed her back onto the bed, his weight pinning her down as the device fell from her hands.

Her wide eyes locked onto his, a mix of surprise and something else—something almost intrigued.

"Me," Kazuki growled, his voice low but commanding. "If it comes to me and the tablet, choose me."

Hime's lips parted, but no words came out at first. Then, her tone calm but tinged with annoyance, she said, "I need to—"

He silenced her with a kiss, his lips capturing hers in a moment that was equal parts frustration and yearning.

The room seemed to still, the soft hum of the heater the only sound as the tension between them thickened. When Kazuki finally pulled back, her lips hovered close to his, her breath warm against his skin.

"Look," she murmured, her voice softer now. "I can give you all the attention you want. After I finish this."

His brow furrowed, and his hand gripped the edge of the bed. "What? Chaos?"

"Yes," she replied simply.

Kazuki scoffed, shaking his head. "Don't. Leave this to me."

"This isn't about Kagezan," Hime shot back, her tone sharp but measured. "I am my own entity."

Kazuki's jaw tightened, his frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "Then we make a deal."

She arched a brow, her tone laced with skepticism. "What deal?"

"Venus is exclusively under Kagezan. No outside clients."

Hime blinked, momentarily stunned. "I don't work like that."

"You will," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Says who?" she challenged, her voice rising.

Kazuki leaned in closer, his dark eyes boring into hers. "Me. Because you are mine."

Her heart skipped a beat at the intensity of his gaze, but she quickly masked her reaction with defiance. "I never agreed to that."

"You will," he murmured, his voice quieter now, almost dangerous in its softness. "Because I dictate so."

..............

As Kazuki looked at her, something twisted deep in his chest. He wanted her to fight him, to resist, because that defiance was part of what drew him to her. But he also wanted her to yield—not because he demanded it, but because she trusted him enough to let go. That desire unnerved him.

He had built his world on control, on power that was absolute. But with Hime, control felt tenuous. She was a storm, unpredictable and untamable, and no matter how tightly he tried to hold her, she slipped through his grasp.

Yet, that only made him want her more.

..............

Hime's eyes flicked to his, her mind racing. She should push back, resist. But something about the way he stood there—so solid, so unyielding—left her conflicted. She had spent her entire life building walls, fortresses of logic and self-reliance. And yet, here he was, not asking for permission but demanding a place within those walls.

Her fingers tightened around the edge of the bed, her breaths shallow. She hated this—hated the way he made her feel as though she could let go, just for a moment. And yet, she didn't hate it enough to stop.

..............

The tablet lay forgotten on the bed, its screen still aglow with the map of Venus Hunter movements. Hime's chaos had bought her time, but she knew better than anyone that time was a finite resource. The hunters were circling, and her existence was a threat they couldn't ignore.

Kazuki didn't understand—how could he? For all his strength and dominance, he had yet to face the burden of being hunted not for who he was but for what he knew. Hime had always lived in the shadows, her life a delicate balance of ripples and storms. But she also knew the truth: as long as Venus existed, Venus Hunter would never stop.

"When humanity perishes, the world prevails," she muttered under her breath.

Kazuki frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She didn't answer. Instead, her gaze drifted to the tablet, her mind already crafting the next storm.

But deep down, she knew: one day, even her chaos wouldn't be enough.