The elevator doors closed with a soft hiss. Three floors passed in silence before Yua spoke.
"You were good in there. Dangerously good."
Riku watched her reflection in the polished steel. "Should I be concerned about the 'dangerous' part?"
"Maybe I should be. You might steal my job."
He laughed. "Didn't I mention? I like Mondays... and I like working for the right boss."
The elevator stopped at the seventh floor. Neither moved toward the buttons. Riku noticed her breathing had changed...deeper, more deliberate. Her grip on her portfolio had loosened. Less CEO, more woman.
'How far can I push this? How much does she want me to?'
The doors stayed closed. She didn't press another button.
At the third floor, the elevator chimed again. They both laughed, soft sounds that acknowledged the game they were playing.
"Ground floor?" she asked, reaching for the panel.
"Unless you have somewhere else in mind."
Her finger hesitated before pressing the button.
___
As they stepped outside, the streetlights had already flickered on. It was later than he realized ...and his stomach reminded him he hadn't eaten much all day."
"You know what? I'm hungry, and I'm not ready for this day to end. Want to grab dinner?"
Yua raised an eyebrow. "You're braver today."
"Successful meetings have that effect on me."
She studied his face. He could see her weighing the invitation and what accepting it would mean.
'Say yes,' the thought slipped in, uninvited but true. 'Isn't this what you wanted ....for him to finally take the lead?'
But caution held her back. 'Don't seem too eager. You're still his boss.'
"Are you asking your boss to dinner, Mr. Asano?"
"I'm asking an impressive woman if she'd like to continue an interesting conversation."
The distinction mattered. This wasn't business.
She felt excitement she hadn't experienced in months. The thrill of stepping outside her carefully constructed boundaries.
"I know a place. Quiet. Good food."
"Perfect."
___
The Restaurant
The Peninsula's rooftop restaurant offered floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing Tokyo's skyline. The maître d' led them to a corner table with a view that made the city feel like their private theater.
"This is nice," Yua said, actually relaxing into her chair instead of maintaining perfect posture. "I forgot what it feels like to eat without checking emails."
"You seem different tonight. Less CEO-like."
"Is that good or bad?"
"It's real. I like real."
She ordered wine without consulting the menu. When the waiter left, she looked out at the view, more open than he'd ever seen her.
"Most people see the position, not the person. It gets lonely."
Riku didn't try to fix or advise. He just listened.
"I built the company from nothing. Twenty-hour days, sleeping in the office, living on convenience store meals." She smiled. "People see the success and think it was inevitable. They don't see the years I wasn't sure I'd make rent."
"Where did you grow up?"
"Small town outside Osaka. My father fixed motorcycles, my mother worked at the post office. Very ordinary people." She paused. "They still don't understand what I do."
The wine arrived. She poured for both of them.
"What about you?" she asked, her voice steady but curious. "Why did you really leave the first time?"
He paused. Not out of hesitation, but from the weight of honesty.
"I got arrogant," he said simply. "Tired of the politics, convinced I was better off on my own. I thought freelancing would be freedom. It wasn't. Projects dried up. So did the money. And the silence… it got loud."
She studied him, not with judgment, but something close to respect.
"Still," she said, a soft smile tugging at her lips, "I'm glad you left."
His brow lifted. "You didn't want me there?"
"If you hadn't left," she said, meeting his eyes, "how else would I have gotten my vice president?"
There was warmth in her vyears... not playful, but proud. Familiar.
He exhaled, quietly, and looked away for a beat.
"But," she added, gently now, "if you don't want to talk about it, I won't press. Whatever you went through… it changed you. And honestly, I think it needed to."
He didn't answer.
Just smiled.
Because he couldn't exactly tell her there was a system in his head, could he?
"I learned that competence isn't enough. You need to understand people, not just systems. You taught me that."
"I did?"
"The Nakamura project. You didn't just solve the technical problem...you solved the human problem. Made everyone feel they'd contributed."
"You remember that?"
"I remember everything about working for you."
The conversation flowed easier, warmer. She told him about the isolation of leadership, decisions that kept her awake, the weight of responsibility. He shared stories from his time away, lessons learned, mistakes that taught him more than successes.
"I don't do this often," she admitted as they shared dessert. "Dinner with... colleagues."
"Is that what we are? Colleagues?"
The question hung between them. Yua felt her pulse quicken, knowing her answer would change everything.
Her phone buzzed against the table.
She glanced at the screen, and everything shifted.
"Hope you like my gift."
Yua went rigid. Color drained from her face. Her hand trembled as she set down her wine glass. Sweat appeared at her temple despite the comfortable temperature.
"Yua? Are you alright?"
She tried to smile, but it was broken. "I should... we should probably..."
Her voice lost all authority, sounding small.
"Excuse me." She stood abruptly, taking her phone. "I need the restroom."
Riku watched her walk away, usual grace replaced by something like fear. He sat alone, dessert forgotten, watching city lights through the window.
Whatever that message said, it had just ended the best evening he'd had in years.