The bathroom door closed behind him with a heavy slam, but even then Rin didn't feel safe. He leaned his back against the wood, chest rising and falling unevenly, black hair clinging damply to his temples. His hand rose unconsciously to his throat, tracing over the fading warmth of Kai's touch as though the man's fingerprints were burned into his skin. He ruffled his hair roughly, wanting to shake off the sensation, but it stayed—every glance, every smirk, every humiliating second.
Damn it. He's still in my head.
The images wouldn't stop replaying—Kai's naked body, that calm, devouring stare, the way he carried himself as though Rin's collapse had been inevitable from the start. The memory was a blade twisting deep. Rin wanted to bury it all. He wanted to erase the sticky heat, the hickeys, the soreness in his muscles, every reminder of being dragged down into a place where his instincts betrayed him.
Has sex ever been this filthy? he thought bitterly. This degrading? He had endured interrogations, starvation, torture—but none of it compared to this. Violence he could resist. Pain he could fight. But this? Being reduced to a trembling animal, forced beneath Kai's suffocating presence? It gnawed at him like acid.
With a sharp breath, Rin stripped the bathrobe from the hook and turned on the shower. He stood under the scalding spray, the steam rising thick around him. For a long moment, he didn't move—just let the water pour over his head, down his battered frame. His fists clenched and unclenched. Slowly, the noise inside him dulled, replaced by the steady rhythm of dripping water.
Focus. Calm down. Think.
The mission. His identity. His survival. He had to get out. If he could just escape Kai's clutches and return to Japan—even half-dead—he could set everything back in order. His cover, his reputation, his life. He would strip Kai's stain from him, piece by piece.
Rin opened his eyes and scanned the room. He couldn't stay here. There had to be a way out.
The first possibility was obvious—the small window on the far wall. Sunlight cut through its narrow slit, faint but mocking. He padded across the tiles, water dripping from his hair, his robe clutched around him. The window was laughably tight, framed in steel bars thick enough to stop a grown man. Still, he pressed his palm against the cold tiles, feeling for weakness.
If I can find a hollow spot… if the wall isn't too thick… maybe I can break through.
But climbing was impossible. His bare feet slipped instantly on the slick surface. With no foothold, the idea was suicidal.
Rin grit his teeth and turned to the shelves, yanking them open. A handful of neatly folded towels. Facial creams. Cleaning bottles. Nothing useful. He cursed under his breath, fingers raking through his damp hair. There has to be something. I won't sit here waiting for him to come back.
On impulse, he seized a long towel and tore it apart with the razor from the sink. His hands moved quickly, binding strips into a makeshift rope. He tied the ends tight, each knot cinched with soldier's precision, until the fabric formed a crude but serviceable cord. From the cleaning supplies, he grabbed a dusting clip—metal, heavy enough to serve as a hook. He fastened it to the end, testing its weight with a jerk of his wrist.
Not perfect. But it would do.
He looked up at the window, narrowed his eyes, measured the distance. His shoulder tensed as he flung the makeshift rope upward. The metal clattered against the bars with a harsh screech, sparking briefly before falling uselessly back to the tiles.
"Damn it," Rin hissed, snatching the cord up again. His knuckles were white. He tried again—this time harder, angling his throw. The rope whistled through the steam and struck the barrier with another metallic clang, sliding back down.
Each failure pounded in his chest like a hammer.
He crouched, breathing hard, staring at the rope in his hands. His entire body was buzzing with frustration, with hatred—not just for Kai, but for himself. For being reduced to this: sneaking, improvising, desperate.
But still, he wound the rope around his arm and prepared to throw again.
Because the alternative was unthinkable.
"I can't give up. Impossible." Rin repeated in his mind like a mantra, jaw clenched until his teeth ached. If I can't escape, what's left of me? What kind of life is that? Waiting here, waiting for him, waiting for the hunger in that monster to return?
The thought made bile rise in his throat. He refused. He couldn't become that—docile, waiting to be devoured again.
He tightened the makeshift rope in his hand, swung the clamp in quick circles until it whistled through the steamy air. Centrifugal force bit into his wrist. When the pull felt sharp enough, he released it like a spear.
Clang!
The clamp caught—wedged tight between two iron bars. Rin froze, heart hammering, then yanked the rope downward to test its hold. It held.
A surge of adrenaline jolted through him. Good. That's good.
He wiped down the tiles with the last towel, dried his soles again, every movement methodical, disciplined. A soldier preparing, not a prisoner panicking. He pressed his feet against the wall, hands wrapping around the rope, and began to climb. His muscles screamed immediately, slick water still running down his back, but Rin grit his teeth and pushed harder.
His left leg slipped. His chest slammed against the wall with a dull thud, knocking the air from his lungs. For a moment his grip wavered—but he didn't let go. He forced his right arm up, fingers curling desperately around the iron bars. His entire weight dangled for one trembling heartbeat, his shoulders burning with strain, before he hauled himself higher, face pressed against cold steel.
And then he knew.
The bars weren't just strong. They were immovable. Not welded carelessly, not fragile with age—solid, reinforced, unyielding. Prison bars dressed in polished disguise. He shook them violently, veins bulging in his arms, but they didn't budge.
"No… no!"
The sound tore from his throat before he realized it. He pulled again until his muscles gave out, then finally let go.
"Ah—!"
His body dropped. He landed hard on his backside, pain shooting up his spine. He sat there, gasping, staring up at the unreachable window. Even here. Even freedom is locked away from me.
But he refused to stop. He stumbled up, searching, desperate. His eyes fixed on the drain pipe under the sink. He tore it loose, metal shrieking as it ripped free, and swung it with all his might against the wall.
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"
Each blow echoed like a gunshot, showering dust and tile fragments across the floor. His hands blistered against the cold pipe, his voice raw. The wall cracked, hairline fractures spiderwebbing out.
Yes. Break. Break, damn you.
He clawed at the crack with his bare fingers until his nails split, ripping chunks of brick away with raw strength and rawer fury. His breath came ragged, chest heaving. For one shining second, he thought he had done it—until the truth revealed itself.
Behind the fragile surface was another wall. A thicker one. Smooth, polished, like stone carved for permanence. A wall meant not just to contain, but to bury.
His arms fell to his sides, the pipe clattering to the floor. Even if I had an excavator, I wouldn't get through this…
Exhaustion crashed over him in waves. His body shook from the effort, sweat mixing with water, dust clinging to his skin. He dragged himself toward the door, his vision dim, steps sluggish. He had nothing left.
And then he froze.
The door wasn't empty.
Kai was there, leaning casually against the frame. He had probably been standing there long enough to watch everything—the climbing, the swearing, the frantic destruction. His posture was relaxed, his expression maddeningly calm. But his eyes… they glittered with something sharp, something hungry.
Rin's heart sank into his stomach.
Kai let his gaze slide slowly from Rin's sweat-soaked face, down to his trembling hands, then to the bathroom ruins behind him. He smiled, faint but cutting, the kind of smile that made Rin feel like a child caught red-handed.
"Well," Kai said softly, voice dripping with amusement, "are you done having fun yet?"
The words struck like a slap. So casual, so dismissive.
Rin's fists clenched. His body screamed to lunge, to attack, to do something—but his mind whispered the truth. He had no strength left. He couldn't even stand straight, let alone fight.
And Kai knew it.
The man stepped forward slowly, not threatening, not rushing—just owning the space with every step. "You really are interesting, Rin. Always clawing, always fighting, even when there's nowhere left to go. That's what I like about you." His eyes narrowed, his smile curling. "But you'll learn, eventually. Even a wolf learns when the leash is tight enough."
Rin's teeth ground together, hatred boiling in his chest. I will kill you. One day. Even if it breaks me, even if I have to drag myself from hell, I will end you.
But for now, all he could do was glare.
Rin barely had the strength to speak, let alone resist. His body ached in every joint; bruises throbbed, his muscles screamed from overexertion. Yet, somehow, Kai's presence made it feel worse—like the air itself was a trap.
Kai's hand reached toward him slowly, deliberately, and Rin flinched instinctively. The pause—half a heartbeat, maybe a second—made Rin's stomach twist. Then, without warning, Kai grasped the cloak around Rin's shoulders and tugged him forward. Rin's arms instinctively resisted, trying to brace against the pull, but exhaustion won out over defiance. He was dragged along the icy marble floors, legs scraping slightly, head spinning.
What now? Where is he taking me? What does he want to do this time? Rin's mind raced, calculating escape possibilities, angles, potential weapons—but there was nothing. He was caught.
Instead of a torture chamber, instead of a prison-like room, they arrived in a dining room that felt almost normal. Almost. A long table, polished and glimmering under a crystal chandelier, stretched before him. The chairs were heavy, ornate, but not threatening on their own. Yet when Kai shoved him into one, Rin winced. There was a stabbing pain from his tailbone, as if the chair itself conspired against him.
Rin's fists clenched, trembling, as a plate was placed before him. The aroma hit him immediately, and his stomach twisted. Blini. Russian-style pancakes drenched in cream and caviar, glossy and decadent, but the sight alone made Rin's stomach sour. His mind automatically recoiled, associating the food with some perverse display of control.
He pushed the plate aside, forcing his body upright, trying to reclaim some dignity. "Where the hell is this place?" His voice was hoarse, broken, but still sharp.
Kai leaned back against the sideboard, an amused smirk curling over his face. "Even if I told you, you wouldn't understand," he said lightly, as if discussing the weather instead of Rin's captivity.
Rin's eyes narrowed, every muscle in his body tensing. He could smell Kai's cologne, faint smoke from the cigar he had earlier, a subtle pheromone undercurrent that made Rin's stomach twist. He's enjoying this. He's enjoying watching me helpless.
Kai's smirk widened. "This, little kitten, is Själaön." He pronounced it slowly, with emphasis, like the name itself was a secret weapon. "A private island, completely under my control. Far enough from anyone who might care to interfere… in the Barents Sea, north of Russia, stretching into the Arctic waters. Harsh, cold, isolated. Perfect, wouldn't you agree?"
Rin's mind immediately worked through the geography. Barents Sea… north Russia… Arctic waters… the scale of this place. It's unreachable. No one could just stumble onto this island. No law, no government could reach me here if he wants it that way…
Rin's hands tightened around the edges of the chair. His body screamed exhaustion, but his mind was already calculating, racing. If I'm going to survive, I have to understand everything about this place. The terrain, the weather, access points… Kai is giving me this information because he wants me to feel trapped, to despair. He's trying to break me before he even does anything physically. But I can't give him that satisfaction.
He swallowed the bile in his throat, forcing his voice to remain steady. "Själaön… you're serious? A private island? And all this time… you've just been hiding me here?" His tone was calm, but the question carried steel beneath it, a sharpness that Kai couldn't ignore.
Kai laughed softly, a sound that made the chandelier above them shake slightly. "Oh, little Rin… hiding? No, not hiding. Observing. Testing. Controlling. Every step you take, every breath you draw, I've considered it. And now, here you are. Safe for now, but… always at my mercy."
Rin's mind raced. Safe? He calls this safe? Safe is a lie. Safe is a trap. Every detail, every artifact in this room, every inch of this island, he's designed to control me. I can't afford to make a mistake, not a single one. But I need to act… I need a plan.
His gaze flicked around the room, noting the thick walls, the reinforced windows, the doors, the single exit. He even noticed the layout of the chandelier, the heavy curtains, the positions where surveillance could easily hide. Kai's calm, teasing words didn't hide the trap he had set.
Rin's jaw tightened. So this is it. Själaön. The private island. My prison. But if he thinks he can trap me completely… he's gravely underestimating me.
He looked up at Kai, who was casually swirling a glass of red wine, entirely unthreatened, entirely amused. Rin's own mind sharpened. Manipulative, arrogant, obsessed with control. Predictable in his patterns if you know what to look for…
Rin leaned back, fighting to steady his breathing. So that's it. The cage isn't just walls or bars. It's the ocean, the ice, the remoteness. Even if I survive him… survival here is almost impossible. His hands clenched, nails digging into the wood of the chair. He had to think. There's always a way. There has to be.
He forced himself to look Kai in the eyes, the simmering mixture of anger, fear, and calculation bubbling in his chest. "Then I suppose I'll just have to find that way," he said quietly, each word measured, deliberate. I don't care where you hide me. I don't care what you've built. I'll survive. I always do.
Kai's smirk widened. He leaned forward slightly, voice calm but deadly, dripping with manipulation. "Oh, I admire your persistence… truly. But persistence doesn't make the wolf stronger here. It only lets it realize just how small its cage is."
Rin swallowed hard. He knew he had been measured. This was Kai's game: exhaustion, disorientation, and the illusion of choice. But even if his body was weak, even if he was trapped on this island with nothing but Kai's will pressing down on him, Rin's mind was alive, calculating, and deadly.
I'll find a way. I have to.
Rin stared at Kai for a long time, searching his face for even a flicker of weakness, some sign that this was still a game he could disrupt. But no matter how long he held that stare, Kai remained unreadable, as if he himself was carved out of the very ice that surrounded this forsaken island. The idea that no one existed to help him—that there was no means, no chance of rescue—tightened like a chain around his throat. He felt suffocated not by the room or Kai's presence, but by the sheer possibility of being truly, utterly alone in this place.
Kai noticed the struggle in his eyes, and without breaking his calm smile, he slid the plate of blini back in front of him. The simple gesture felt like a command disguised as kindness.
"You should eat," Kai said softly, his tone carrying a lilt of mockery. "If you don't want to starve… unless you'd prefer I cook something else for you?"
The words were deliberately casual, but Rin heard the real meaning behind them: you have no choice but to eat what I give you, when I give it to you.
Rin's stomach betrayed him with a loud growl, the sound echoing embarrassingly loud in the silent dining room. His pride flared up instinctively—he wanted to shove the plate away, to reject whatever scraps Kai offered. But his body was honest where his will was stubborn. The gnawing hunger, the dizziness, the way his muscles trembled even at rest—he couldn't afford another act of defiance.
His eyes dropped to the plate. The blini were cold now, their edges slightly stiffened, their smell faint but cloying. Rin's throat tightened. He hated himself for what he was about to do.
Slowly, with a rigid expression, Rin reached out and picked up one piece. His movements were stiff, like a man preparing for execution rather than a meal. He put it in his mouth, chewing reluctantly, his jaw moving painfully slow as though each bite was an admission of defeat.
Kai didn't look away, not even once. He studied Rin's face with fascination, like a scientist observing a specimen, or a collector admiring the cracks in a fragile antique. Every flicker of shame that crossed Rin's eyes, every slight tremble in his jaw, seemed to entertain him.
Rin turned his face away, unable to bear the weight of that gaze, and kept chewing. He didn't want Kai to see how his stomach was already greedily working to digest the food, how the mere taste of sustenance had sent a shiver of relief through his weakened body.
Finally, breaking the silence, Rin muttered low, more to himself than to Kai: "I'm probably going to get bloated from this. Why are you free to stay here like this?"
Kai chuckled softly, as though amused by the attempt at casual conversation. "I'm not too busy."
Rin's brows furrowed. His tone sharpened. "Why aren't you busy? Don't you have to clean up that mess?"
Kai's eyes glinted. "Cleaning up the mess?" He tilted his head as if amused by the naivety. "Ah, you mean the blueprint? You seemed so excited to blow it up, but unfortunately for you, it didn't cost me that much." He leaned back in his chair, hands steepled, his voice smooth, laced with ridicule. "If it was as loose as it appeared, I wouldn't have survived this long in the first place."
Rin froze mid-bite, his heart hammering. What the hell is he implying…?
His voice came sharp, almost desperate. "What are you talking about?"
Kai's smirk deepened, his tone lowering until it was almost conspiratorial, a private whisper meant to coil into Rin's mind and stay there. "What do you think you can do with the blueprints you and your colleagues risked your lives for? Use them to create a new weapon, one that could rival Persephone?" He shook his head slowly, savoring the moment. "No. You can't. You were never going to. Because I—" he tapped his own chest lightly "—am the only person in this world who can truly analyze that design. That's why Persephone exists. That's why I exist."
He let that sink in, his words deliberate and slow, then leaned forward, eyes narrowing like a predator. "Besides… do you really think I would ever place the heart of everything I've built into something so simple, so fragile? So easy for you to touch? To destroy?"
Kai's smile was a knife cutting into silence. "No, no… what you had was just a decoy. A toy for people like you to waste your firepower on." He chuckled low, leaning back again, utterly relaxed. "You burned your strength, your resources, your hope… on nothing. And I—" his hand gestured casually around the room, the island, the unseen fortress that belonged only to him "—I am still standing."
Rin's thoughts churned violently, pride and despair warring inside him. So it was bait. He lured us in, knowing we'd fight for it, bleed for it. Damn it… we fell right into his hand. I fell into his hand.
The humiliation was crushing, but beneath it a spark flickered: rage. Rage at Kai, rage at himself, rage at the idea that his struggle had been reduced to a game for this man.
Kai tilted his head, watching the storm in Rin's expression with open amusement. "You should be grateful, Rin," he murmured. "I let you live to hear the truth. Others died chasing shadows. You, though—you get to sit at my table. That's privilege."
Rin's lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line. He swallowed the last bite of blini like swallowing poison. His pride was in tatters, but his mind was already turning. Fine. If this was all a trap, then I'll just have to find another way. Blueprint or no blueprint, you're not untouchable, Kai. You want me to break? Then watch me. Watch me claw my way out.
He leaned forward again, eyes gleaming like a predator's in the dark. "You are not my equal, Rin. You are my entertainment."
Kai stepped out of the bedroom with unnerving calm, every movement deliberate, as though this entire house was his stage. His boots made a sharp, rhythmic sound against the floor as he adjusted the long grey fur coat draped over his shoulders. The thick pelt shimmered faintly in the light, like the skin of a predator dressed in finery. On his head, he placed a black ushanka, tugging it low enough to cast a shadow over his eyes. Dressed like a czar from some frozen empire, Kai exuded an air of sovereignty, of a man untouchable by weather or consequence.
"I'm going out," he said flatly, pausing at the foot of the stairs. His tone was neither explanation nor warning—it was more like the declaration of a fact, something Rin was expected to absorb without argument. Kai's eyes flicked briefly toward him, a smirk curling one corner of his mouth. "I cooked some meals so you won't starve yourself to death… there are fruits, too. And when you heat the food—" he let the pause hang just long enough to sting—"don't burn my kitchen."
Before Rin could respond, Kai was already ascending the stairs toward the helipad. The air shifted—Rin could feel it. That low vibration, a distant, mechanical hum, soon swelling into the heavy, oppressive beat of helicopter blades.
Thwip. Thwip. Thwip.
Rin's head snapped upward. His body moved before his mind caught up, dashing toward the stairs two at a time. By the time he reached the top, the helicopter was already a black silhouette shrinking against the white sky, a dot carried farther and farther into the horizon. The sound of the blades lingered a moment before dissolving into the endless, frigid silence.
Rin's chest rose and fell, eyes locked on the vanishing dot. A strange unease spread through him. He turned sharply and ran back downstairs, his instincts buzzing like live wires. The front doors… unlocked. The windows… unlatched.
Rin froze, eyes narrowing.
Unlocked? Just like that?