Shattered Masks

Two weeks had passed since Kazuki last saw her. Two weeks since her presence had disrupted the carefully constructed balance of his life. Hime's image lingered in his thoughts, her face flashing unbidden in the quiet moments he usually reserved for clarity. He couldn't explain why, but everything about her—her presence, her gaze, her calculated movements—refused to fade.

The mornings had become unbearable. He couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, couldn't focus. Even in meetings, his mind wandered to her, the soft tilt of her head as she spoke, the quiet authority in her voice. The staff whispered behind his back about "the woman in red." It was a joke, a passing comment about the shirt she'd taken, but to him, it was a mark of something deeper. She had walked into his life, taken something intangible, and left him reeling.

That evening, as the sun dipped below Kyouten's horizon, Kazuki stood on the rooftop of his office, the city's chaotic hum a distant murmur beneath him. The wind tugged at his coat, cool against his skin. He scanned the streets below, the maze of lights and movement, as if he could spot her in the crowd. It was ridiculous, he knew, but the urge was undeniable.

She wasn't just a woman. She was a question he needed to answer.

His thoughts turned to their last encounter. Hime had been deliberate, controlled, but there had been something else—a sharpness in her gaze, an intent he couldn't place. She wasn't like the others who had tried to get close to him. She didn't want his wealth, his power, or his favor. She wanted something more, and it unnerved him.

Then it struck him.

Venus.

The name emerged from the recesses of his mind like a whisper in the dark. Venus, the shadowy information broker whose name was both legend and threat in Kyouten's underworld. Her deals had toppled empires, her whispers reshaped power structures. Untouchable. Dangerous. A ghost.

Kazuki's chest tightened. Could Hime be her? The idea seemed absurd at first, but the more he thought about it, the more the pieces began to align. Her confidence, her poise, her ability to blend into his world without hesitation—it all fit. And yet, it was impossible. Venus wasn't real. At least, not in the way people believed.

Was she?

Kazuki's grip on the railing tightened. He needed answers, and there was only one person he trusted to get them.

Back in his office, Kazuki picked up his phone and dialed. Ivan answered almost immediately, his tone brisk. "Yes, boss?"

"I need to know something," Kazuki said, pacing the length of his desk. "Who do you go to when you need information that's impossible to find?"

There was a pause before Ivan responded. "Venus," he said cautiously. "But you already know that."

"I do," Kazuki replied. "I want you to start digging. Quietly. Let the right people know I'm looking for her."

Another pause, this one heavier. "Boss, you know how dangerous that is. Venus doesn't like being found. She comes to you, not the other way around."

"I'm not looking for her," Kazuki clarified, his tone clipped. "I'm looking for someone connected to her. A woman. Let's call her a Princess."

Ivan's skepticism was palpable even through the phone. "A Princess? There are plenty of those in Kyouten. What makes this one worth the risk?"

Kazuki's jaw clenched. "She's different. Dangerous. I need to know if Venus knows her."

Ivan's tone shifted, more serious now. "You think she might be Venus?"

Kazuki didn't respond immediately. Instead, he let the question hang in the air before finally speaking. "It's a suspicion. And one I intend to confirm. Discreetly."

"You're playing a dangerous game," Ivan said, his voice low. "If Venus finds out, she won't take kindly to it."

"She doesn't scare me," Kazuki replied coldly. "Do as I say. And Ivan..." His voice dropped, a warning edge cutting through. "No one else can know about this."

Ivan exhaled softly, a sound that carried both resignation and understanding. "Understood."

After the call ended, Kazuki sat in silence, his mind racing with possibilities. Ivan was capable, one of the few people he trusted implicitly. He would plant the seeds, find the whispers in the shadows, and piece together the fragments of truth. If Hime truly was Venus, she wouldn't ignore the bait. She couldn't. A man like Kazuki poking at her world would force her hand.

He stood, pacing the room. The weight of his plan pressed against him, but he welcomed it. Hime—Venus—whoever she truly was, had destabilized him in ways he couldn't explain. And that made her a threat. Or an opportunity.

Kazuki moved to the window, staring out at the glittering expanse of the city. Somewhere out there, she was weaving her own plans, oblivious to the trap he was setting. The thought sent a surge of determination through him.

"If you are who I think you are," he murmured, his reflection cold and sharp in the glass, "then you're already mine. You just don't know it yet."

The game had begun.