Chapter 10 - Who is… He?

“As for work,” he had said the night before, voice steady while mine frayed at the edges, “you’ll stay here until the doctor clears you.”

And when he stepped away, I should have been relieved.
Instead, part of me wanted him to stay.
And that terrified me most of all.

The next day, sunlight spilled harshly on the hospital’s glass doors as we stepped out. A crutch bit into my shoulder, but Asami’s hand was still at my elbow, guiding, steadying—like he didn’t trust the thing to hold me up on its own.

“I’m just glad it’s only a few weeks in a cast,” I said, relief breaking through my breath. “Could’ve been worse.”

His mouth curved the smallest fraction. “Me too. You’ve already been pacing like a caged cat at home. Another month locked indoors, and I wouldn’t put it past you to climb the walls.”

I huffed a laugh, ready with some retort—until a voice cut through the chatter of the crowd.

“Ichi?”

My stomach dropped. My steps faltered before my eyes even found him.
No. Not here.

He was smiling as if nothing had happened, as if time hadn’t cracked me in half since I’d last seen him. His gaze slid from my crutch to Asami, then back to me, bright and unbothered.

“What happened to you?” he asked, easy, casual—too casual. And then that smile, directed straight at Asami.

Ice slid down my spine. My pulse skittered. I forced my lips into something like a smile, though my throat was closing.

“Ah—it’s just a sprain. Some swelling. We… came to make sure it wasn’t broken.” My voice sounded wrong, strained, but I prayed he wouldn’t notice.

He noticed. His arm came around me before I could step back, pulling me into a hug that made my lungs lock. His breath brushed hot against my ear as he whispered, low and certain:

“We need to talk. You ignored my calls. My texts. I want you home, Ichi. Soon.”

I went rigid, nodding before I could stop myself, terror pinning my tongue.

When he drew away, his hand lingered on my shoulder, squeezing, before he turned to Asami with another smile.

“Excuse me—I should get to the pharmacy.”

And just like that, he was gone, swallowed by the shifting crowd.

My heart hammered so hard the crutch wobbled under me. I couldn’t breathe right, couldn’t unclench my fists.

Beside me, Asami’s silence was a weight all its own. I didn’t dare meet his eyes, but I felt the tension radiating off him, sharp as a drawn blade. His hand still hovered near my arm, not touching this time—but close enough that the air between us buzzed.

When I finally risked a glance, his gaze wasn’t on me at all. It was fixed on the doors where the man had disappeared, jaw tight, shoulders rigid.

Possessive, protective—dangerous in its quietness.

And yet, when his eyes finally came back to me, his expression smoothed, calm again.

“Careful,” he said, his voice even, steady, as if nothing had happened. His hand returned to my elbow, firm.

“You’ll trip if you keep trembling like that.”

The steadiness should have comforted me.

Instead, it only made my fear burn hotter.

I tried to smile at Asami, but my lips trembled just like the rest of me. No cold breeze touched us, yet I couldn’t stop shaking.

Beside me, Asami’s gaze sharpened. He had noticed. He always noticed.

He was fine when we left the clinic, his eyes seemed to say. What changed?

Of course, I knew. The man. That man.

But my tongue was useless, heavy as stone.

I sank into the nearest chair in the lobby, my crutch clattering against the side. My chest heaved as if I’d run a mile. The words burst out before I could stop them.

“Thank God…”

The relief was raw, but Asami’s frown deepened. He crouched in front of me, his face too close, his eyes narrowing.

“You were fine a moment ago,” he said, voice low, controlled—dangerous.

“Then he appeared, and suddenly you’re trembling like this. Don’t insult me with excuses. Explain it. Make me understand.”

His closeness made my skin crawl with awareness.

For a heartbeat, I thought—God help me—he was going to kiss me. Right there. In front of everyone.

I flinched, pleading, my voice shaking.

“P-please… give me space, Master Asami. Not here. People will—will misunderstand if you’re this close.”

His eyes didn’t soften. If anything, they sharpened.

“No. You’ll answer me, Ichinose. Here and now. Or we’re not leaving.”

My breath caught. Tears threatened. The pressure of his stare pinned me as surely as his hand on my arm.

Desperate, I whispered, “Please. Not here. In the car. I’ll tell you in the car.”

That was what finally made him relent. His jaw tightened, his shoulders stiff, but then he exhaled, the sound rough. His hand slid up, brushing my hair back before settling in a firm pat.

“Fine. Don’t cry. We’ll talk in the car.” His voice softened just enough to undo me further.

“But don’t think I’ll forget.”

I nodded, too shaken to speak.

He steadied me on my feet again, guiding me through the crowd until we reached the car. He helped me into the seat, his touch gentler now, lingering as if reluctant to let go.

“Stay here,” he said, his tone clipped but protective. “I need to get something inside. I’ll be back.”

Before I could ask what, he turned and strode back toward the hospital, his shoulders broad, his steps purposeful—like a man hunting down an answer he already suspected.

Meanwhile, I waited in the car, my hands twisting in my lap. Every second dragged, heavy with dread. Please… don’t let him run into that man. Please. If he found out I was working with Asami—even just as his servant—what would he do?

Anxious thoughts swarmed me until I caught movement at the hospital doors. The man. He was there, smirking as if he knew something I didn’t. My chest tightened. Had he… had he spoken with Asami inside?

When Asami finally appeared, relief crashed through me so hard I almost slumped against the window. He walked with that same unhurried stride, but something about the set of his jaw, the way his shoulders held tension, made my stomach twist.

“I’m sorry I took so long,” he said evenly as he slid into the driver’s seat. “I thought they might have another medicine. They didn’t.”

He didn’t look at me. His hand gripped the wheel, knuckles pale, before he tilted his head back, eyes closed. For a beat, his silence was louder than shouting.

Whatever had happened inside, it clung to him still. I could see it in the crease of his brow, the way his breath dragged rough through his nose.

He muttered under his breath, almost too low for me to catch. “If I had any authority of my own, I’d never set foot in my grandfather’s house again.” Then a sigh, his fingers massaging his temple, his face briefly raw before smoothing back into composure.

I turned my face to the window, unsure what to say. My pulse still hadn’t steadied from that man’s smirk.

“As you promised,”

Asami's voice broke the silence at last, low and firm,

“...you’ll tell me everything about him. Tonight. Don’t make me wait any longer.”

My throat closed, but I nodded. “…Umm.”

He started the engine, but the anger lingered in his eyes, quiet and sharp. I could feel it even in the silence between us. Whatever that man had said, it had lodged deep inside him—enough to make Asami, who almost never lost control, look as if his blood was boiling.

Asami drove in silence for a while, the hum of the engine louder than either of us. His jaw was set tight, his hand gripping the wheel like it might splinter. I stared out the window, but every nerve in my body felt his anger beside me.

Finally, he spoke, voice low and edged.

“I don’t like the way he looked at you.”

My breath hitched. “He… he’s just someone I knew before—”

His hand tightened on the wheel. “Don’t insult me with half-truths. The way you shook when you saw him… that wasn’t just a surprise. You were afraid. Terrified.”

His eyes flicked toward me, sharp, unyielding. “Why?”

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “Please… not now. I’ll explain tonight. I promised.”

A long silence. Then he exhaled, slowly, through his nose, like he was forcing himself to calm down.

“Ichinosé…” My name on his tongue was heavier than a threat—it was a vow.

“Whatever he was to you, whatever he thinks he still is… there's nothing now. Do you understand?”

Heat flushed my cheeks. The words were steady, but I felt the storm underneath them—possessive, protective, dangerous in its restraint.

I nodded quickly. “Y-yes…”

His lips pressed into the faintest, humorless curve. “Good. Because if he thinks he can touch what’s mine…”

His voice trailed off, unfinished but loaded. He caught himself, turned his gaze back to the road, and finished flatly, “I won’t tolerate it.”

I froze, heart hammering. What’s mine? The words echoed, tangled, impossible. Did he mean it? Or was it just the heat of his anger?

I couldn’t ask. I couldn’t breathe. All I could do was sit there, trembling, caught between the terror of that man’s shadow… and the dangerous comfort of Asami’s.

The villa was quiet after dinner, the kind of silence that pressed heavy against my ribs. I sat stiffly on the edge of the bed, ankle propped on a cushion, while Asami leaned against the desk across the room. Arms folded. Eyes sharp. Waiting.

I couldn’t look at him. My fingers twisted the blanket instead.

“You said you’d explain,”

he reminded me, voice calm but too steady, like a blade laid flat.

“Now’s the time.”

My chest clenched. “I… don’t know where to start.”

“Start with his name.”

“... Dante." The word tasted bitter. My shoulders curled as if saying it made me smaller.

Something flickered across Asami’s face, but he didn’t move. He only nodded once, as if granting me permission to go on.

“He was… my boyfriend. Before.”

The word felt wrong in my mouth, too generous for what it had really been.

“When we met, he had nothing. No job, no money. Just a record and a smile I thought I could trust.”

I laughed weakly, bitter.

“I worked. I gave him everything I earned. Rent. Food. Even his drinking, his gambling, the clubs… the women. I thought if I worked harder, if I loved him enough, it would fix everything.”

My throat burned. My hands shook.

“But it didn’t. It only got worse. Until there was nothing left of me. Just debt and shame and… him.”

The words cracked, spilling out too fast, too raw.

“And still, I stayed. Because I thought—stupidly—that was what love was. Sacrifice until you’re empty.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. I dared a glance up—and immediately regretted it.

Asami’s eyes were molten, unreadable but heavy with something that made my breath stutter. Fury, yes—but not at me. At Danter? At what I’d endured? His jaw worked, tight, but his voice was soft when it came.

“You let him bleed you dry. And he dared to come near you again.”

I winced. “I… I was a fool.”

His arms uncrossed. In two strides, he was in front of me, crouched low, his hand gripping the blanket beside my knee. Close enough to make my pulse stumble.

“No,” he said firmly.

“You were kind. Too kind. He twisted that against you.”

His eyes locked on mine, sharp and unflinching.

“Don’t ever call yourself a fool for giving him your love. Call him a fool for throwing it away.”

I opened my mouth, but no sound came. Heat stung my eyes, and I hated myself for it.

His hand lifted, brushing a stray tear away with his thumb. The touch was careful, almost reverent.

“Dante won’t take another piece of you,” Asami murmured.

“Not while you’re under my roof.” Then, quieter, with a steel edge:

“Not while you’re mine to protect.”

My heart stopped. My breath caught. Mine.

I tore my gaze away, choking on confusion, fear, and something far more dangerous.

“Asami, I—”

“Rest.” His voice softened again, though the fire in his eyes hadn’t dimmed. “We’ll speak more later. For now… trust me.”

And for one terrifying, treacherous moment—I almost did.

Asami’s thumb brushed the last of my tears away, his gaze steady, unyielding.
“Rest,” he murmured, softer this time. But beneath the calm, I heard the weight of something darker—a promise.

I curled into the blanket, heart still racing. I should have felt safe. I should have felt relieved.

Instead, a chill crept through me, sharp as glass. Dante wouldn’t let go so easily.

And if he came back… I wasn’t sure who I should fear more—him, or the storm simmering in Asami’s eyes.

Author's Note:

Apologies for the confusion regarding the name. Before I originally chose Julius, but I've updated it to Dante, as I felt it suited the character’s more villainous tone. As for Renji, that’s a name I’m using for a different character in another story I’m developing..

To be continued….