Chapter 7: Crosshairs

The office hummed with tension thicker than Tokyo's summer haze. I pressed an ice pack to my elbow where Kawahara's manicure had left crescent marks, watching Yū pack her desk through the glass partition. Shangguan's declaration still hung in the air like toxic smoke—*She's mine*—three words that had turned me from workplace pariah to corporate concubine in sixty seconds flat. 

"You should've let her scratch you properly." Maki's voice crackled through my burner phone. "A few bloodstains would've made excellent evidence for HR." 

I snorted, eyeing the legal team circling Kawahara's office like sharks. "Since when did you become an employment lawyer?" 

"Since my sister's klutzy best friend became collateral damage in a boardroom romance." 

"There's no romance!" 

"Keep telling yourself that, *muse*-chan." The line went dead as Shangguan materialized at my desk, his usual crisp white shirt wrinkled at the collar. 

"The Nishizawa files." He slid a USB across the desk, its silver casing catching the fluorescent lights. "You'll need these for the Osaka trip." 

I stared at the drive like it might bite. "What Osaka trip?" 

His glasses fogged as he leaned closer. "The merger review. Our flight leaves at six." 

"That's in—" 

"Three hours. Pack light." 

The women's restroom became my war room. Between stuffing tampons into a go-bag and scrubbing Kawahara's foundation stains from my blouse, Erena found me muttering curses in three languages. 

"He's transferring me to the Kyoto branch," she whispered, mascara bleeding down her cheeks. "Father's furious I didn't last six months." 

I crushed her in a hug smelling of lemon disinfectant and regret. "I'll fix this." 

"Don't." Her tears soaked through my shoulder pad. "Just survive him." 

The cab ride to Haneda passed in silence. Shangguan's knee brushed mine whenever we hit traffic, his cologne blending with the driver's chain-smoked Seven Stars. At security, he confiscated my half-finished latte with a judge's finality. 

"You'll thank me during turbulence," he said, pocketing my boarding pass. 

The plane's first-class cabin smelled of privilege and impending doom. As we leveled over Mount Fuji, Shangguan produced two whiskey miniatures from his briefcase. 

"To workplace hazards." His clinking glass against mine felt like a grenade pin pulling loose. 

The merger documents told a different story—hidden clauses about offshore accounts, mistresses listed as "consultants." Shangguan's annotations bled red in the margins: *Ask Yū to verify*, *Yū's expertise needed here*, *Consult Yū*. 

"You've been investigating me." I slammed the folder shut. 

"Merely appreciating my investment." He adjusted his glasses, reflection warping in the lenses. "Your college thesis on cross-border intellectual property theft was... enlightening." 

Ice clinked as the cart rolled by. Somewhere over the Sea of Japan, the game changed. 

**Zhi's Ledger (Translated from Mandarin)** 

*Item 37: Replace Kawahara with Erena's cousin in Accounting Division 

Item 89: Cancel Arata family's retainer (Note: Blame Oda's insider trading) 

Item 156: Verify Yū's visa status (Renewal deadline: 14 days) 

Item 201: Buy azure dress from Ginza boutique (Apology? Bribe? Both?)* 

The wheels touched down in a downpour. Through the rain-streaked window, Osaka glittered like a circuit board gone mad. Shangguan's hand hovered at my lower back as we exited—a gentleman's gesture or predator's claim? 

In this neon jungle, even chess pieces cast shadows.