His pale blue eyes never left Akira as he assessed her.
He saw the way her fingers shook ever so slightly.
Noticed the way her gloves slid down her hands.
He even counted the number of seconds it took for her to exhale.
One.
Two.
...
"Dear, could you please explain to me why there's a hybrid in my office?"
His ears twitched.
Exhale.
Six seconds.
Noted.
"She's the student I mentioned earlier during our little... talk," Juri said, her eye sliding down to the man who was still watching her.
("He hasn't made any physical reactions that I've taken note of...")
Her pupil slid over to Akira, who was being helped down into a seat by Graham.
("Yet she looks very uncomfortable.")
Her grip on her husband's shoulder tightened.
Kisaragi did not react.
Still analysing.
Still watching.
("Just what the hell did you do to her... Shinjiro?")
She finally let him go.
"Well, then, I suppose if you have no problem with it, I shall be taking my leave."
Akira's whole body took a screenshot.
Juri's hand rested against Graham.
A small gesture.
One that meant a lot.
Graham hesitated as he watched Akira's frozen expression.
Then Juri again.
Then him.
Slowly, he got up.
Something in him told him to trust her.
Akira's breathing shattered the moment she heard the door shut.
("...no.")
She curled up closer into herself.
Afraid.
Terrified.
She tried to find something.
The carpet.
Too bright.
The chairs, maybe.
No, too foreign.
Her fingers began to shake more violently now.
She couldn't hide it.
Nor could she hide the lavender leaking out of her body like an alarm signal.
The older man's nostrils caught the fragrance, and he smiled faintly.
To him, it wasn't merely a fragrance.
It was a smell.
No.
Rather, more accurately...
the distinct scent of fear.
"What's wrong?"
Akira froze.
The man's irises shimmered.
Icy blue.
"You seem a little on edge."
This time, the man didn't bother hiding his trail.
The light around his eyes painted a faint blue trail of mist that slowly but surely covered the distance between him and her.
Like a hand reaching out to grab its prey.
She couldn't see it, only feel what it did to her.
It landed on her dark sweater then sank inside.
slipped past the cracks...
And grazed her skin with an almost teasing caress.
Akira shivered violently as she recoiled further into the seat.
"S-Stop...p-please..." she begged, tears flooding both her throat and eyes faster than she could process.
The glint in his eyes deepened for a fraction before his gaze darkened immediately, and he blinked.
The trail was gone.
He looked at her, more specifically at the evidence of her discomfort painting her cheeks, and snarled at her.
"Wipe those goddamn tears."
Akira...
obeyed.
She wiped them faster than she could register his anger.
Something about tears rubbed him the wrong way.
He looked at the clock behind her.
It was only 2 PM.
His eyes narrowed as he leaned back in his chair.
It was strange.
Juri never came to his work office...
And even if she did, she—
His expression darkened.
But it was accompanied by a sly grin.
"Clever girl."
Akira thought that was directed at her.
And something in her felt a jolt of fear surge up her spine.
But nothing happened.
No glare.
No words.
No insults.
Not even a subtle, inappropriate shift in her clothes.
Just the silence of a man who'd been calculating something in his head.
He looked at the doorknob.
And he almost laughed.
("Hell if that'd fool me...")
Behind that door, it wasn't just a certain blonde man barely keeping his fingers on it. He remained so still that even his shadow didn't inch forward or back.
And yet.
All this.
Kisaragi knew immediately.
("They're on to me.")
•••
[ Tokyo, Kisaragi Residence: 04:20 AM. (10 hours earlier) ]
A vase smashed against the wall as two bodies collided with each other.
The sound of grunting suggested something physical was going on.
And yes.
It was.
"DAMN BITCH—!"
A resounding fist to the side of her cheek.
It landed.
Cleanly.
No theatrics.
No techniques.
Just raw force.
Juri's hair cascaded over her throbbing face as she licked the saliva off her lip.
Tangy.
Metallic.
Not saliva.
Rather, something else.
His hand dug into her hair, shoving her back against the wall as he reheated his palm.
The bright blue palm crossed the space between them instantly, ready to silence her again.
Like it had done before.
Except this time, her leg hooked over his arm before it moved.
She curled sharply.
And in the next moment, took a hard bite on his neck.
"GAAH!"
He snapped his waist to the side, ready to slam her onto the bed's ledge.
Break her spine.
Except now she was on the bed, delivering an incredible knee to the side of his jaw.
Clean hit.
It sent him sprawling as he fell onto his side, spitting a tooth that would be there tomorrow.
He smiled.
"Oh, so you learned something new, huh?"
"I'll ask you again."
Juri's eyes burned a bright gold as the objects in the room shook and her hair cascaded over her ruined face.
"What the hell did you do to that girl, Shinjiro?"