I should have stayed in London—but how could I miss my only brother's wedding?
Rain slapped my coat like it had a personal grudge, pounding against me as neon lights fractured across slick Tokyo streets, turning puddles into shifting mirrors. Ten years away, and suddenly I was a stranger in my own city, every familiar corner alien. My phone gave up halfway, dying in my hands as if mocking me, leaving me stranded and clueless about which blur of lights held my brother's address.
"Excuse me… uh… hotel?" I asked a passerby, drenched and desperate.
He gave me a look that felt like he knew I didn't belong anywhere near this street. "Yeah… uh… Pavilion Eight. Not far." He scribbled the address and smirked like it was a secret.
Pavilion Eight. Sounds innocent enough. Right?
I wrinkled my nose but trudged through the rain, dragging my luggage, stomach grumbling. By the time I reached the door, I was soaked, hungry, and utterly clueless. Inside smelled faintly sweet, like perfume and something else I couldn't name. A menu was slid to me—two items. "Snake rolls?" I muttered to myself. But the names… sounded suspiciously human.
RANKS: Bill, Ace, One…
I froze. Then I saw him. Rank One. Kaoru Nishimi. Hot. Way too hot. Younger than me, but that didn't matter. And he… he didn't just look good. He owned the room, every inch of it and maybe even me.
Before I could even process, a voice beside me whispered with pride and boldness, "So… you've chosen me , huh? Make sure you've got cash ready. IM available for men like you… and others."
My stomach dropped. Rainwater, cold, soaking, couldn't compare to the pit in my gut. I'm… I'm in a red-light district? Trapped. Hungry. Alone.
The man—Kaoru—grinned and gestured toward a room. "Let's go, darling. Don't worry. You'll enjoy it."
I stumbled inside, muttering, "Wait—I'm straight ! This is a huge mistake!"
He chuckled, low and knowing, like he hadn't heard "I'm straight" in years. Candles flickered, throwing shadows that slithered across the walls, curling around us like predators waiting for a mistake. My pulse raced—hotter than any Tokyo rain ever could.
Then he was there. Close. Too close. His hand found my waist, firm but teasing, the heat of his fingers burning straight through my soaked coat. I could feel the pull of him, the subtle press of his body leaning into mine, his chest brushing mine just enough to make my skin scream.
"Relax…" he murmured, voice silk and fire, brushing a strand of wet hair from my forehead. My knees threatened to buckle.
"I… I can't—" My words faltered. My rational brain froze under the intensity.
Kaoru laughed softly, deliberate, slow—hands tracing just shy of danger over my back, over my ribs, holding me too close. The scent of him—cologne, heat, something darker—wrapped around me. Every instinct shouted run, but every nerve betrayed me.
He leaned even closer, teasing, predatory, daring. I felt the brush of his lips near my ear, the warmth of him like a flame against my skin. My breath hitched. My stomach dropped. My mind screamed—but my body betrayed me, rooted to the spot by tension, fear… and something I didn't understand yet.
And then it snapped. Something primal surged. Instinct overrode terror, desire, everything. I shoved him off—not gently—and bolted. Rain hammered my face, suitcase bouncing behind me, heart hammering like a war drum. My virginity. My dignity. Somehow intact. But barely.
I collapsed under the bus station shelter, shivering, drenched, trembling. Hands gripping my chest, I gasped for air. Tokyo's cruel sense of humor had reached a new peak tonight.
From the Pavilion, his laugh drifted over the rain. Smooth, amused, and sharp. "Interesting…" Kaoru's voice lingered in my ears. Pride pricked, curiosity sparked. Nobody ran before. Nobody.
And just like that, Tokyo had introduced me to heat I hadn't asked for, danger I wasn't ready for—and a curiosity I wasn't sure I could ignore.