Chapter 9:

As he clicked into a particular reposting of one of the many photos snapped by fans, he zoomed in. It had been taken by someone within the gas station restaurant and caught the moment the goons were approaching Hayami. Oto stood behind her, wearing a nervous look that went well with the dirt smudge on his cheek, the distant stare in his eyes, and his smart casual appearance. He looked like an everyman, or so he thought.

In front of him, Hayami had the fierce expression that she wore well. With an outstretched arm, she appeared ready to fight in her fashionable mismatch of clothes. Thanks to her posture and resulting midriff exposure, the comments focused more on her physical appearance than her apparel—a blessing in Oto’s opinion.

With a critical eye, he zoomed in on her face, admiring the defensive scowl and the fire in her eyes that he was never able to accomplish in a photoshoot.

She can really work a camera. He thought to himself, lifting the cortado to his lips. I wonder if she was ever a model for, like, one of those pro-bono clothing companies.

Scrolling down, he looked at the post’s current hashtags. Hot. Sexy. Beautiful. Oto Hildebrand. Mystery Woman. Martial Arts. Casual. Fashion. Popular. Trending. Viral. Train.

Curiosity struck him as he again clicked into the last hashtag, switching his feed to the currently ranked seventh trending topic. What he saw were pictures of the train he had been on. Apparently, before it reached the stop ahead of Costa Bellissima, something had triggered its derailment. Most of the posts were concerning that and the lack of survivors, with occasionally reposted pictures and recordings of the gunmen.

He made his way into one of them only to be directed to a ‘post not found page.’ This trend had been plaguing him all morning, with most of the content being removed due to a breach of terms concerning gore and violence.

Moving out of the post, he discovered another picture floating around. This one revealed the masked Hayami as she defended him in his compartment. Yet again, an odd sense of lustful envy washed over him. Even with unbecoming clothing and her beautiful face hidden behind the medical mask, her amber eyes were beaming with intent. It was more photographic evidence of her finding a way to make violence sexy. Something he didn’t believe possible.

He clicked into the comments and began to scroll.

“Hot. Blow me away any day!”

“Violence should not be fetishized.”

“Is that a man or a woman? Regardless, put a baby in me.”

“White Tiger?”

“Look at this! Same person with Hotty Hildebrand?”

Oto cocked his head to the side, following the link to another post. This one was a photo of him looking out the driver’s side window as Hayami slid across the hood of the car. Her gun was extended back as she aimed it towards where he knew the vagrants had been.

“Oh, come on!” He exclaimed, frustrated that yet again he appeared terrified while she looked so calm, cool, and sexual. “Hayami, you’re so hot right now! I don’t know who this White Tiger is, but you’re a lioness and the camera is your gizelle.”

The door to the villa slid open, and Giles stepped out to the terrace.

“Young Master Oto, presenting Miss Hayami.”

The butler’s hulking form stepped to the side, revealing the beautiful Hayami in the made-to-measure floral midi dress he had put the seamstresses to. While the dress itself was a simple ivory-white with stone-blue flowers, it paired well with her skin tone, as he thought it would. With a glance down, he eyed her feet, which were set in a three-inch slim strappy heel that clacked softly against the stone as she approached.

Standing quickly, Oto cleared his throat. He threw open his arms, the pink seersucker jacket parting at his breast to reveal the white dress shirt beneath. This time, he wasn’t wearing a tie, instead leaving the top three buttons open and accenting his suit with a navy pocket square that matched his like-colour Oxford shoe.

“Hayami, you look beautiful.” He complimented, watching as she approached the table. “A true dime-a-dozen doll.”

She stopped, staring at him with a perplexed look crossing her face. Once again, he could see her clenching jaw as she looked away with a shake of her head.

“I-I don’t,” She stammered for a moment before sighing. “I don’t think that means what you think it means in this moment.”

“What?” He smiled weakly, thinking about what he had said. “You’re, like—really special? And pretty? Especially since you came from, you know, a poverty place?”

“Yeah—no.” Hayami placed a hand on her hip, poking his chest with the other. “That’s being a diamond in the rough.”

“But diamonds are smooth. That doesn’t make any sense, Hayami—”

“Stop with the—” She cut herself off, with a clench of her fist.

Inhaling and exhaling deep breaths before flashing a smile, she looked back at him.

“You mentioned breakfast? I’m starving. I feel like I could eat a horse.”

“You and your horses!” He blurted in reply.

The air became momentarily tense as he realized his faux pas. Running a hand through his hair, he breathed a calming breath and revealed the signature Hildebrand smile before continuing.

“We-we don’t serve horse here. We’ll have a normal breakfast.”

With quick steps, he moved away from her and back towards the table. He took hold of the seat adjacent to his, sliding it out before offering for her to sit.

But she didn’t take his offering.

Instead, Hayami plopped herself into the chair Oto had been resting in before she arrived. In response, he gave an awkward chuckle and, deflated, sat in the chair he had drawn for her.

Looking to his butler, he tapped a finger to his lips, “Giles, please get breakfast started now. I’d appreciate an Eggs Benedict, but please use a duck egg, replace the ham with that locally sourced blue crab and add a drizzle of truffle oil. Oh, and a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice, please.”

“Of course, sir,” Giles responded, giving a slight nod. “Right away. And for the lady?”

“Damn, crab eggs-benny, eh?” She huffed, softly talking to herself as her head shook. “Umm, oh—me? Uhh, is there a menu?”

The butler didn’t reply and instead maintained his intense, unblinking stare. Hayami, while mildly intimidated, also held her own forced, unblinking eye contact.

“I guess eggs…scrambled? With toast?”

The butler smacked his lips disapprovingly as he cocked an eyebrow. “Of course, miss. And for your toast, how would you like it?”

“Uhh—not burnt?” She looked between the unimpressed butler and Oto. “What kind of question is that?”

“Oh my god, Hayami,” Oto gasped. “Do…do the poors not know there are different types of bread?”

“Stop calling me—grrr,” She grumbled, shifting her gaze back at the butler. “White. White toast. Please, or whatever. Shit—buttered.”

“Of course, miss,” Giles spoke with a bow before he stepped away, leaving the two alone.

As the butler departed, Oto admired Hayami's beautiful eyes again as she investigated the terrace. Even out of combat, her gaze had a powerful allure that made his heart rush. Then there was the way her body, so deadly yet graceful, filled out the dress provided as though it had always been hers.

There was no doubt that Oto had feelings for her, though he still struggled to put them into words. But he would nonetheless try.

“That dress looks beautiful on you,” He complimented. “I’m glad I went with it instead of the yellow or pink. Did the seamstress do well enough to your liking?”

“Yeah, it’s fine, I guess.” Her wandering eyes locked with his before narrowing. “Were you the one to undress me, pervert?”

“What? Me? No—”

Panicking, Oto felt his face grow warm at the thought of seeing any more flesh than he already had in the car or moments before when the gust adjusted her robe.

“No, of course not. I-I had the maids—female maids! And they took your measurements as best they could, that’s—that’s why I ask. Should I have it altered?”

Hayami glared at him, her burning gaze determined to see past any lie he attempted. An experience that was equal parts intimidating and intimate for Oto. Finally, after a few moments of concentration that turned Oto as pink as his suit, she reached out, took the drink that had been his and sipped it.

“Your people always have this fast of a—oh, that’s good.” She stopped herself, seeming to enjoy the drink as she drank more. “Such a fast turnaround?”

“Yeah, it’s been at least twenty-four hours since our little spat. Plenty of time. You were fairly injured after—”

“Yeah, how did that all turn out?”

“Oh, well, after we crashed by no fault of my own, Giles came to—”

“Giles? The G-I Giles? How did he even know how to find us?”

“Giles is a butler. Not a gastro-antiologist.”

Hayami sighed deeply before chugging the remaining coffee.

“That’s wrong on so many levels that I don’t even know where to start. Jus-Just the back half of the question, please. How’d he find us?”

“Oh, well, on the train, I suppose I did manage to dial Giles, and he heard the entire exchange. So, he activated the tracker in my left shoe and began his drive to meet us.”

“When did you dial—wait, come again? You have a tracker in your shoe?”

“Oh yes. I get lost quite frequently.” He rubbed the back of his head with an innocent smile. “You see this one time, doing a live shopping trend shoot—"

With a snap of his fingers, Oto reached across the table and took his phone in hand.

“Wait! That reminds me!”

Punching the code onto the screen, he looked back up to Hayami with a proud smile. He glanced into her eyes as she watched his fingers with a curious intensity, believing that she was excited for the news.

After reopening the app, he clicked into the currently trending and slid the phone back across the table.

“Look! Twenty-four hours and we’re still trending! Isn’t that amazing?”

“We’re. What?!” She cried out, swiping the phone from the table and looking at the images and comments. “Oh shit! Shit-shit-shit-shit! How do we make it stop?”

“Stop?” Oto laughed with a confused smile. “Why would you want it to stop? Look at those comments. People adore you! You really make violence look good.”

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled yet another phone out and began to click away at the screen. “What’s your handle? We should do a shoot together. Oooh, we could use real guns and do some of it with the imports we have in the garage.”

Oto looked at her with a bashful smile. He gently rubbed at his lips, remembering the kiss for a moment before continuing to speak.

“You know, they’re calling us a power couple, and they're not wrong. My money, your ferocity. We could trend every day with that combination! Come on, what’s your handle? A couple of people were calling you a white panther or something, is that it?”

Hayami’s pale face drained of its remaining colour as she looked up at Oto.

“The white what?” She mumbled, her voice suddenly weak.

“The white panther or something—it’s a big cat. Like a lion or a puma.”

“People have been calling me…The White Tiger?”

With a snap of his fingers, he pointed over at her. “Yes! Exactly that! So, is that you? Is that your handle? Miss White Tiger. It fits, you know? The fact that you’re obviously quite dexterous, like a cat, and, well, very white.”

Oto observed Hayami as she continued to stare at the phone, beginning to realize something was wrong.

“Hayami? Hayami?” The boy called out, but she was lost in thought, thinking about the publicity.

While the influencer was thrilled about the turn of events, for Hayami, it would have been better for her to have died in the car crash. Not only had the public gotten several clear pictures of her face, but they had also begun to make the connection between her and the White Tiger.

She was burned.

And even if they could do damage control a day later, a few swipes through the comments and hashtags would be enough to draw even the dullest bounty hunters her way.

Successful job or not. Hayami’s life as she knew it was over.