Chapter 39.5: Poking a Wounded Minami

POV: Ren Kurosawa

I noticed the morning light as soon as I opened the blinds. It was sharp, too clean, slicing across the walls and floor in pale blues and silvers. Everything seemed more precise than it should be. I adjusted my cufflinks and checked my reflection. Pale blond hair neat, blue eyes calm. Everything in place. A small smile touched my lips. The city always seemed to watch, whether it knew it or not.

The drive to Minami Tower was quiet. Buildings and streets blurred past in muted grays and browns. Occasionally, I noticed flashes of green and yellow—envy and curiosity—from people walking or driving nearby. They were paying attention, even if they didn’t realize it. The tower appeared ahead, gleaming and imposing. This was Kaito’s domain, cold and disciplined. But I had a way of pressing the right points.

The conference room was ready when I arrived. Glass walls dimmed, muting the city beyond. I stood at the center, letting the space fill with me before Kaito arrived. I wanted him to notice, to feel the shift.

Kaito entered. Black hair neat, suit immaculate, posture flawless. His dark eyes measured me carefully, and I could feel the tension radiating from him. He moved like a blade held too tightly in a sheath, precise and restrained.

“Kaito,” I said, smiling. “You look tired.”

“I am functional,” he replied. Clipped, controlled. Functional. Delightful.

The meeting began with formalities: joint ventures, overlapping interests, careful negotiation. Our groups were rivals. Each word, each gesture, a small test. I spoke lightly, asked measured questions. Kaito answered with the precision I expected. His movements and expressions were calculated, contained.

Then I let my words drift casually, with just enough edge. “And how is your little kitten handling all the media attention?”

His reaction was immediate. Dark eyes flared briefly, jaw tightened, fingers pressed flat against the table. The storm beneath his calm was visible only to those who knew where to look.

Sato appeared at his side, hand landing on Kaito’s shoulder to steady him. I allowed myself a quiet smile. The tension was exactly where I wanted it.

I allowed myself a faint, private smile. It was curious, watching him. The tension was exactly where I wanted it.

My smile never wavered. I let my voice slide smoothly across the quiet room. “It’s curious, isn’t it? How perception shifts when the image is ambiguous. Some might even say it’s… entertaining.”

Every word was deliberate, measured. I could see him narrow his eyes, teeth pressing together. Almost delicious, the way restraint faltered for a heartbeat.

He replied finally, voice even, brittle with control. “I see.”

His rage was delicious to see.

“Temporary measures,” I added, tapping a document. “They have a way of revealing priorities.”

He said nothing. The mask remained, but the tension spoke louder than words. His dark eyes sharpened, jaw remained tight, his posture stiff. Every detail communicated more than he intended.

By the time the meeting ended, the distance he had carefully maintained was thinner. His attention had shifted, distracted, alert. The storm he kept beneath the surface had not calmed. I watched it with quiet amusement.

As I left the room, I caught my reflection in the glass. Pale, composed, entirely at ease. Kaito remained a figure of controlled intensity, taut and restrained. Control is an illusion. Influence is the game. I had played him perfectly. Even the most disciplined structures have weak points, and I had already glimpsed his.

There was a quiet pleasure in seeing Minami strain to hold himself together, and I allowed myself a small, private chuckle. Seeing how tightly he could hold himself only made the game more entertaining.

I adjusted my jacket and walked away, already anticipating the next moment I would press.

This was only the beginning.