Shattered Masks

A week had passed since the meeting in Kazuki's office. Hime had retreated into her mind, consumed by thoughts that swirled like a storm. The encounter with him—her heart, her mind, and her body still felt the ripples of it, and despite her best efforts to push it away, she couldn't help but think about it. About him. Kazuki. The man who had both intrigued and unnerved her.

She couldn't remember the last time she had allowed herself to feel this way. Her thoughts were usually reserved for strategy, for the delicate balance she maintained in her world of secrets and whispers. Yet, there was something about Kazuki, something that gnawed at her with a pull she couldn't quite explain. His curiosity, his power—he was different from the rest.

Sitting on the edge of a cozy chair, the soft rustle of pages in her hands, she could feel the faint hum of her mind processing the endless information that flooded her system. Her customized tablet, with its network tapping into an ocean of data, lay beside her. It was her most trusted companion, summarizing everything for her, from political shifts to obscure occult knowledge, all neatly stored for her to review over breakfast.

She had relocated again, as was her habit. This time, she had moved Mars to an abandoned temple in Mount Kuroshima. The eerie quiet of the place suited her. The walls, once cold and untouched, now bore the marks of her presence. Trinkets, relics, and her collection of books—ranging from politics to philosophy, from history to the occult—lined the shelves. A few well-placed candles flickered in the corners, lending a warm, inviting glow to the otherwise dim space.

The temple on Mount Kuroshima stood in hushed solitude, its worn wooden beams creaking softly as the mountain wind whispered through the cracks. Inside the bathing room, steam curled in lazy spirals, blurring the faint glow of candlelight reflected on the damp stone walls. The faint aroma of cedarwood and lingering incense mingled with the humidity, creating a cocoon of warmth.

Berkeley had worked hard to salvage what they could. The move was a constant, though her "office" was never static for long. Her work, her life—everything shifted and adjusted as the winds of her plans changed. It was her way, and she found comfort in it.

As she ate her breakfast—her usual green tea, rice, and miso soup—she glanced at her tablet screen, scanning the new data that had come through overnight. The rhythm of her morning routine was almost mechanical by now: breakfast, check the data, Pilates, and then a long soak in her bathtub.

Hime reclined in the clawfoot tub, her head resting against the edge as her fingers skimmed absently across the water's surface. Her dark hair floated like ink in the bath, the damp strands clinging to her skin. Across from her, the bathroom wall was a chaotic masterpiece. Scribbled notes, scattered ideas, and a maze of connections sprawled across its surface, drawn in mismatched colors that overlapped in ways that made sense only to her.

Words like "Alignment," "Probability," and "Thresholds" jostled for space alongside fragmented diagrams and half-erased arrows. At the center was a single phrase: "The calm is always loudest before the storm."

She stared at the wall, her mind weaving through the threads of her thoughts. To anyone else, the mess of symbols and notes might have seemed meaningless, but to Hime, it was a living map of possibilities. Each piece, no matter how disjointed, contributed to the intricate web she spun in her mind.

Kazuki's voice still echoed in her thoughts, low and deliberate, like silk drawn over iron. His gaze, sharp enough to cut, had lingered just a moment too long—enough to make her wonder if he saw through her mask.

The water had gone tepid by the time she finally stirred. Her muscles, relaxed by the heat, protested as she pushed herself upright. The damp air clung to her as she stepped out of the tub, wrapping herself in a thick white bathrobe. Her hair dripped faintly onto the floor, but she didn't bother to dry it. It was a habit she hadn't noticed about herself—the way her mind often lingered on her thoughts longer than it should, leaving her routines half-finished.

When she stepped into the main hall, she was surprised to see Berkeley already there, his back to her as he leaned against the edge of the low wooden table. A steaming cup of tea sat untouched by his side, the faint aroma of green leaves cutting through the room's stillness.

"You're early," Hime said, her tone neutral as she adjusted her robe.

Berkeley turned at her voice, his sharp gaze flicking briefly to her damp hair before returning to her face. "You left the door unlocked."

Hime raised an eyebrow, padding barefoot across the wooden floor. "And?"

"I thought you were better at hiding your habits," he said, his smirk faint but unmistakable.

She ignored the remark, her attention drifting to the tea. "I assume you're here for a reason."

"So, what did you find out about Kazuki?" he asked, his tone casual, though his eyes were sharp. "You planning to trade the info with anyone? Maybe me?"

Hime shook her head, her lips curling into a small, knowing smile. "No," she said simply, "This one's just for me. I'm keeping it close for now."

Berkeley frowned, confusion flickering in his eyes. "But why? You've got nothing to lose by sharing it with me. I can help you... understand him better, perhaps."

She raised an eyebrow, her gaze steady. "No, Berkeley. This one stays with me. I don't need anyone else's interpretation of Kazuki. I'll figure him out myself."

Berkeley opened his mouth to protest, but quickly shut it. He knew better than to argue when Hime made up her mind. She was always ten steps ahead. Always had been.

But his expression darkened slightly, and he leaned forward, the casual edge replaced by something heavier. "The Venus Hunters," he said, his voice low. "They're getting closer."

Hime paused, her hand stilling mid-reach. She looked at him, her expression unreadable. "How close?"

"Close enough to make me nervous," Berkeley replied. "They're asking better questions, making fewer mistakes. Someone's bankrolling them, and it's not a small operation."

Hime took a slow sip of tea, her gaze steady. "And what does that have to do with me?"

"You know exactly what it has to do with you," Berkeley said, his voice sharp. "They're not hunting just anyone, Hime. They're hunting Venus. They're hunting you."

"I've seen what happens when they get close, Hime," Berkeley said, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "They don't just destroy. They unravel you—piece by piece."

Hime leaned against the table, her damp hair dripping faintly onto the polished wood. Her expression remained calm, but the faintest flicker of tension crossed her features. "And you think they'll find me?"

Berkeley ran a hand through his hair, his frustration barely masked. "If they're this persistent, it's only a matter of time. You can't keep tempting fate."

She set the cup down with a quiet clink, her movements deliberate. "I don't tempt fate, Berkeley. I plan for it."

"Planning won't mean much if they catch you off guard," he shot back. "You're good, but you're not invincible."

Hime gave him a faint smile, the kind that never quite reached her eyes. "No one is. But I've survived this long for a reason."

"They don't make mistakes twice," Berkeley said, his tone sharpening. "If they've set their sights on you, they won't stop. They'll dig, they'll wait, and when the moment comes, they'll strike before you even realize it."

Berkeley sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly. "Just… don't underestimate them."

"I don't," she said, her voice softer now. "But I can't afford to let fear dictate my moves."

He studied her for a long moment, then nodded. "Alright. Just remember, you're not alone in this."

She met his gaze, her voice calm, almost too calm. "I'm anticipating something, Berkeley. A deal might come through. One that I've been waiting for."

He frowned, brow furrowed in confusion. "A deal? From who?"

Hime's gaze remained unwavering as she replied, the barest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "Probably Kagezan."

Berkeley paused, the weight of her words sinking in. Kagezan. Kazuki. The connection was there, hidden in plain sight. But Hime never spoke in riddles. She never acted without purpose. And this… whatever it was, was clearly part of a much larger plan.

"Alright," he said, standing up and brushing the crumbs from his hands. "But remember, no matter what, you're not alone in this. We'll figure it out together."

Hime watched him leave, her mind already turning over the implications of her statement. Kagezan. Kazuki. The wheels in her mind began turning, and the excitement she had been trying to push away flared up once again. This was no ordinary deal. It was more. Much more.

And whether she was ready for it or not, Hime knew that this was only the beginning.