The city stretched endlessly outside the penthouse windows, but Hayate barely saw it. His desk was piled with contracts, server data scrolled across his monitor, and still, his mind returned again and again to one face.
Rin Nishina. Stubborn. Honest. Dangerous in ways she didn't yet understand.
A knock broke the silence. "Come in," Hayate said.
Kazehiro slipped inside, his usual smirk tugging at his lips. "Busy?"
"Always."
"Well, I thought I'd make your day more entertaining," Kazehiro said, dropping into the chair opposite his desk. "I witnessed something interesting at the Nishina offices today."
Hayate arched a brow. "Go on."
Kazehiro leaned back, savoring the moment. "Your Rin went toe-to-toe with Hana."
Hayate's pen stilled. "…Did she?"
"Oh yes." Kazehiro's grin widened. "Hana threw her usual barbs — polished, condescending, sharp as glass. And Rin? She didn't flinch. She hit back. Told Hana she'd rather be a storm than a shadow."
For the first time that day, Hayate leaned back in his chair, the faintest curve touching his lips.
"A storm," he murmured.
Kazehiro laughed. "You should've seen Hana's face. Priceless. Like someone had stolen her crown mid-ballroom dance. Rin held her ground, Hayate. She didn't need you there."
Hayate's gaze drifted to the skyline, his expression unreadable to anyone else. But Kazehiro had known him long enough to see the truth: the quiet pride, the flicker of amusement, the rare softness in his eyes.
"You like this too much," Kazehiro teased.
Hayate didn't answer. He didn't need to. The silence, as always, spoke louder than words.
That night, Rin collapsed onto her bed, still buzzing from the confrontation. Her hands itched to tell someone. Her father would dismiss it, her mother would worry — so of course she dialed the one person who would enjoy the story far too much.
Mai answered on the second ring. "Spill. I can already hear the drama in your breathing."
Rin groaned. "Why do you know me too well?"
"Because I'm your best friend. Now talk."
Rin sat up, gesturing wildly even though Mai couldn't see her. "Okay, so there I was, just walking out of a meeting, minding my own business. Then she appeared."
Mai gasped theatrically. "The dragon!"
"Yes! Hana the Horrible!" Rin declared, throwing a pillow for emphasis. "Elegant dress, smug smile, probably paid three assistants just to make sure her hair defied gravity."
Mai cackled. "Go on."
"She starts in with the insults, right? Acting like I'm a child playing dress-up in Daddy's company." Rin flopped backward. "And I wanted to scream, but instead, I said it. The line. The line."
Mai leaned so close to her phone Rin swore she could hear the grin. "What did you say?"
Rin sat up dramatically. "'Better a storm than a shadow.'"
Silence. Then Mai exploded into laughter so loud Rin had to hold the phone away from her ear.
"Oh my God! Rin Nishina, queen of the comeback! You dropped that line like thunder!"
Rin covered her face. "It sounded better in the moment. Probably. Maybe."
"Nope," Mai said, still giggling. "It's perfect. I wish I'd been there to see Hana's face. Please tell me she cracked."
Rin peeked through her fingers. "…A little. I think. Maybe she just blinked slowly, but it felt like a crack."
Mai laughed harder. "That's it. She's terrified of you now. The storm is real!"
As Rin's laughter faded, her chest tightened. "But Mai… what if she's right? What if I'm just pretending? Sitting in meetings, nodding along, doodling ships sinking in my notebook…"
"Rin." Mai's voice shifted, firm but warm. "Listen to me. Hana's greatest weapon is making people feel small. But storms? Storms don't stay small. You've already survived one. You're not pretending — you're proving."
Rin's throat tightened. "I don't feel like it."
"Then borrow my confidence until you do," Mai said simply. "Because whether you believe it or not, you shook her today. And you'll do it again tomorrow."
For a moment, Rin couldn't speak. Tears pricked her eyes, but a laugh slipped through. "You're ridiculous."
"I know right," Mai shot back.
Rin sniffled, smiling. "Yeah. I do."
After they hung up, Rin lay back in the dark, replaying every word of the day.
Hana's barbs. Her own trembling retort. Kazehiro's sudden appearance, his whispered praise. And Hayate's steady gaze in her memory — the way he had always looked at her, not through her.
She curled into her pillow, whispering into the night.
"I'll keep standing. Storm or not."
And for the first time, she almost believed it.