Chapter 31:

Chapter 29: A Convenient Photo

Color Me Yours

POV: Ren Kurosawa

I wasn’t spying.

Not at first.

I was simply walking down the street near the canal, enjoying a rare hour where my schedule wasn’t strangling me. My father had stormed off to some meeting, leaving me to “think about my lack of progress” or whatever lecture he spit out last. I’d ducked into a quiet side street café—one of those understated places where the coffee tasted hand-ground and nobody expected you to act like a CEO in training.

I stepped inside, shaking rain from my coat, when something caught my eye.

Or rather—someone.

A girl.

Pretty in that unpolished way that hits harder than perfection. Hair pinned back slightly messy, soft features, down-to-earth clothing that somehow made her stand out in a city full of designer clones.

She was laughing quietly.

With someone sitting across from her.

I didn’t notice him at first. Not until he shifted. Not until he lifted his mask just high enough to sip his drink.

And then I froze.

That jawline.

That face that practically lived on the covers of business magazines.

The model-perfect posture of someone raised under a microscope.

Kaito Minami.

I blinked once. Then twice. Then almost laughed out loud.

You have got to be kidding me.

Mr. Untouchable.

Mr. Perfect Heir.

Mr. “The Press Cannot Know I Eat Like a Human.”

Out on a strangely normal date with a girl miles out of his usual glass-walled world.

And she was… hot.

Not in a flashy way—but in a way that made you instinctively want to look twice. Someone real. Someone breathtaking simply by existing.

My jaw tightened.

Why did that bother me?

Maybe because every woman in Tokyo’s upper echelons threw themselves at me or Kaito, and here he was with someone who wasn’t performing for him. Someone who didn’t look hired, bribed, or groomed for status.

Someone who looked like she actually wanted to be there.

I slipped into a seat two tables behind them. Not close enough to be obvious, but close enough to watch. Observe.

Okay—fine. Maybe I was spying.

Her smile was small. Gentle. Authentic in a way that made something sharp twist in my chest.

Kaito said something low.

She laughed into her sleeve.

I swallowed irritation. Why did this feel personal?

I told myself it wasn’t jealousy. Of course not. Jealousy was petty, beneath me, a weakness.

…So why did I raise my phone when she leaned forward, when Kaito lowered his mask a little too far, exposing more of his face than he probably intended?

A clean shot.

Perfect angle.

Perfect timing.

I snapped the photo.

Not even for publication—at least not immediately. Mostly out of instinct. Rivalry. The thrill of seeing the immaculate Kaito Minami slip.

Then I zoomed in.

Her face.

He was looking at her. Actually looking, not analyzing or judging. Something warm threaded through that gaze, something unfamiliar on his usually frostbitten expression.

My thumb hovered over the “delete” button.

I didn’t press it.

Instead, I filed it away.

A weapon.

A curiosity.

A reminder that even the Minami golden boy could crack.

I told myself it was business strategy—intel that could be useful someday. But as the minutes passed, as I watched the two of them talk, something else gnawed at me.

He looked… happy.

And she—

She didn’t look like she knew who he was, not really. Or she didn’t care. Either way, it made something bitter rise in my throat.

People like us didn’t get normal moments.

We didn’t get people like her.

Yet Kaito had somehow slipped out of the chains long enough to touch something real.

I stayed until they left—carefully, discreetly, like they were trying to keep something fragile intact.

Only when they disappeared down the street did I leave the café.

On the walk back to my car, I pulled out my phone again. The photo glowed up at me in the dark.

Her eyes were warm.

His were soft.

I felt something twist—jealousy, yes, but something else too.