Her Best Friend

Emi Fujimoto had one person in her life who never ignored her. That person was Sora Tanaka, her best friend.

Sora Tanaka had a kind of friendliness that put people at ease. Similar to Emi, she had a strong sense of right and wrong and never hesitated to step in when she saw something unfair. She studied in the design faculty, specializing in fashion, and believed clothing should be about strength, not status.

She and Emi had met on a rainy afternoon during their first week of college. Emi had been cornered by two upperclassmen trying to pressure her into joining a shady club she wasn't interested in. She hadn't known how to respond, already shrinking under their persistence, when Sora appeared out of nowhere. She'd stepped between them with a firm smile and said, "She's with me." Then, without waiting for a reaction, she grabbed Emi's hand and pulled her into the main building.

They'd ended up in a quiet hallway, soaked and breathless. Sora had offered her a spare hair tie and introduced herself like they were already friends.

They had been ever since.

"Fujimoto." Sora tapped her fingers against the table, her lips pressed into a thin line. "You've been acting weird."

Emi sighed as she sat down across from her. "Hi Sora."

"Don't 'hi' me." Sora leaned in, lowering her voice. "Spill. You disappear right after class. You look tired as hell. And don't think I didn't notice that you're not working at the Izakaya anymore. What's going on?"

Emi hesitated. She had no idea how to explain this.

"It's just… a new job," Emi said vaguely, stirring her drink. "Better pay, more stable hours."

Sora narrowed her eyes. "And where exactly is this amazing job that suddenly appeared out of nowhere?"

Emi hesitated again.

"Emi." Sora's voice was firm. "I'm not letting this go."

Before Emi could come up with a believable excuse, her phone buzzed.

A text.

From Daiki Sakamoto.

Daiki: "Boss says to meet him at the café near your campus. Now."

Emi stared at the screen.

Sora leaned forward. "Who's that?"

"Uh… my boss's assistant."

Sora raised a brow. "Since when do companies text like that?"

Emi didn't answer. Instead, she stood up. "I have to go."

Sora immediately followed. "No way. If you're acting shady, I'm coming too."

"Sora—"

"Not a debate."

Emi sighed. This was going to be a disaster.

Sora wasn't an idiot.

She knew something was off the moment Emi started acting weird. But she wasn't expecting to walk into a quiet, upscale café and see two of the most dangerous-looking men she had ever laid eyes on.

One was calm and composed, dressed in a sharp suit with an unreadable expression that marked him as someone important. His dark hair was neatly styled, his posture perfect, and he carried an air of cold authority that made Sora tense. He was striking, almost unreal in appearance, distant and untouchable. But beneath it all, she could feel it. Power that didn't need to be spoken to be obeyed.

The other man leaned back in his seat with a cocky grin, eyes sharp with amusement as they approached. His dark hair was slightly messy, a strand falling over his forehead, giving him a relaxed look compared to the man beside him. But there was an edge to him, something unpredictable behind the smile. His black shirt hung open at the collar, his confidence casual and unsettling.

And Sora's instincts screamed at her.

These men were trouble.

Emi swallowed, clearly uncomfortable as she walked toward them. "Kazama-san, Sakamoto-san."

Kazama? As in Ren Kazama?

Sora's fists clenched. She knew that name. Everyone did.

The underworld. The mafia. The kind of people you stayed far away from.

And Emi was working for them?

Ren Kazama barely spared Sora a glance before speaking to Emi. "You're late."

Emi tensed. "Sorry."

Sora did not like this. Not one bit.

The other guy gave her a grin and asked Emi `"And who's this? Your bodyguard?"

Sora glared. "Her best friend."

"Feisty," Daiki mused, his grin widening. "I like that."

Sora already hated him.

She turned to Emi. "What the hell is going on?"

Emi gave a small, nervous laugh. "It's just an office job. A more stable and… less exhausting job than the others."

Sora stopped walking, turning to face her. "Office job? Since when do 'office jobs' involve being chauffeured around in a luxury car by a guy who looks like he owns half of Tokyo?"

Emi sighed. "It's not what you think."

Sora narrowed her eyes. "Then explain it to me."

"If she doesn't believe you," he said coolly, "she can come along."

Sora crossed her arms. "Maybe I will."

Emi looked between them, already feeling the tension rise. She gave in with a quiet sigh. "Fine. You can come see for yourself."

The drive was quiet. Tense. Ren sat in the back seat beside Emi, while Sora took the front with Daiki behind the wheel, casting suspicious glances in the mirror.

They pulled up to a tall, glass-fronted building in Aoyama—Kazama Corporation, the official name discreetly etched into the marble at the front entrance. The structure was sleek and modern, the kind of place most university students only dreamed of entering.

Inside, the air smelled of clean wood, polished floors, and subtle cologne. The receptionist greeted them with a respectful nod before calling the elevator.

As they stepped inside, Sora whispered to Emi, "Okay, this is definitely not a part-time job. This is an empire."

Emi just gave her a weak smile.

On the 24th floor, Ren led them to a quiet corner office—a modest space compared to the grand executive floor—but clean, with natural light and a large desk already arranged with folders, a laptop, and an ergonomic chair.

"She's assisting in business documentation and internal scheduling," Ren said simply, folding his hands behind his back. "Light admin work. Nothing heavy. Flexible hours, quiet space. No customers. No stress."

Sora stepped inside cautiously, her eyes scanning every detail—the desk, the files, the nameplate with "Administrative Assistant" engraved. She hated to admit it, but everything looked legitimate.

Still, she turned to Emi, voice low but firm. "You're really okay with this?"

Emi hesitated. "It's fine, Sora."

It wasn't fine.

And Sora could see it in her eyes, the exhaustion, the wariness, and the weight of something unspoken.

Before she could push further, Ren stepped forward. Slowly. Deliberately. Like a lion crossing into neutral ground, unhurried but dangerous.

Sora felt the hairs on her arms rise.

"Your friend is smart," Ren said, his voice smooth and almost amused, but with an unmistakable warning beneath. "She should leave this alone."

Sora straightened, refusing to back down. "A man like you doesn't do things for free. I don't care how polished this looks. I know you have an angle."

He smiled then. Slight. Cold. "And yet here you are, standing in my building."

Sora's jaw clenched. "Emi's not someone you get to play with."

"I'm not playing," Ren replied. "If I wanted to manipulate her, I wouldn't have invited you."

The words hung heavy between them.

Emi stepped in then, her voice quiet but strained. "Can we just go back to work? Please?"

Sora looked at her friend, conflicted. She saw the gratitude in Emi's eyes—the relief of not having to juggle three jobs, the guilt of accepting help, and the confusion she tried to hide every time Ren was near.

She stepped back, lips pressed into a thin line. "Fine. But I'm keeping an eye on this."

Ren didn't respond.

As the door clicked shut behind Sora, the room felt noticeably quieter. The tension she left behind lingered in the air, like static after a storm.

Emi stood stiffly near her desk, eyes fixed on the door. Her shoulders were tense, her thoughts racing. Sora had meant well, she always did, but confronting Ren Kazama so directly was both bold and reckless.

Ren watched her for a moment, then stepped away from the window where he'd been standing. His tone was calm, almost thoughtful. "She's protective of you."

Emi glanced up, startled by the unexpected softness in his voice.

"You have a good friend," he said. "One who's willing to stand in a room full of power and still speak her mind. That's rare."

Emi shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of her neck. "She's always been like that," she murmured. "She doesn't care how powerful someone is. If she thinks I'm being taken advantage of, she'll say it."

"She's not wrong to be cautious," Ren replied. "Especially when it comes to people like me."

That earned him a quick look.

"At least you admit it," Emi said dryly.

He let out a quiet chuckle—low and unhurried. "I'm not here to pretend I'm harmless."

Her eyes met his, and for a second, something in her chest tightened. There was no denial. No performance. Just honesty. And for someone like Ren, that was somehow more disarming than charm.

"I'm not used to people standing up for me," she admitted after a moment. "Sora's… kind of the only one who ever has."

"You stood up for yourself just fine that night," he said, watching her. "You just don't realize it."

Emi looked away. "It's different when it's someone who actually knows me."

Ren took a few slow steps toward her, and she could feel the shift in the air again—the weight of his presence, subtle but firm.

"She does know you," he said. "But so do I."

She hesitated. "You barely—"

"I've seen enough," he cut in gently. "The world hasn't been kind to you, and you still haven't let it turn you cruel."

Emi's breath caught. She wasn't used to words like that—words that felt like they saw right through the walls she worked so hard to keep up.

She tried to shrug it off. "You talk like you've been watching me for years."

Ren's gaze didn't waver. "Maybe I have."

That made her pause. Her heart skipped, confusion flickering in her eyes.

But before she could ask, he turned back toward the door.

"You can get back to work," he said over his shoulder, his voice back to that calm, unreadable register. "And thank your friend for me. She reminded me that even the strongest people need someone in their corner."

Then he was gone, the door closing behind him with a quiet click, leaving Emi standing in the soft silence of the office, her pulse still racing for reasons she couldn't name