Episode5

The ballroom was bathed in a warm golden glow, chandeliers dripping with crystal light that caught in the champagne glasses and glittering jewelry of the crowd. Laughter rippled through the air, underscored by the soft hum of a live jazz band tucked away in the corner. People moved like pieces on a gilded chessboard—slow, deliberate, and always with an audience.

Renji Saito’s presence cut through the noise like a sharp blade. Tall, sharply dressed in a black suit tailored to perfection, he radiated authority that made people instinctively step aside. Conversations lowered in volume when he passed, eyes lingering on him with a mixture of respect and fear. Beside him, Kaito was a quieter kind of striking—leaner, softer, his crisp white shirt open at the collar in defiance of the room’s formality. His dark hair fell slightly into his eyes, and unlike Renji, he didn’t stride through the crowd like he owned it.

He followed in Renji’s wake, feeling the weight of dozens of curious stares.

“Kaito,” Renji murmured without looking back, his voice low enough for only him to hear. “Stay close.”

Kaito gave a small nod, his lips quirking in a faint smile. “You say that like I’d wander off.”

Renji’s mouth curved slightly, but his tone was all steel. “You might. And I don’t like giving people opportunities.”

The way he said “people” made Kaito glance around. Indeed, more than a few gazes weren’t friendly curiosity—they lingered on him with something else. Interest. Hunger.

Renji led him toward a cluster of influential figures. The conversations shifted as they approached, smiles turning toward them.

“Saito,” one man greeted warmly, extending his hand. “You finally decided to make an appearance.”

Renji took it with a brief, firm shake. “Something like that. I thought it was time I introduced someone.” His hand slid to Kaito’s lower back, a subtle but unmistakable claim. “This is Kaito.”

Kaito inclined his head politely, his voice even. “It’s a pleasure.”

The small group began their practiced exchanges of pleasantries, but Kaito felt the undercurrent. He wasn’t just being introduced—he was being presented. As though Renji was saying to the room: This one is mine. Remember that.

Across the room, champagne flutes clinked and bursts of laughter rose, but here in this circle, every look seemed to weigh and measure him. Kaito met each gaze without flinching, though the back of his neck prickled.

Renji’s hand stayed at his back.

It was during a brief lull in the conversation that a man Kaito didn’t recognize approached. He was maybe in his mid-thirties, well-dressed but with the faint looseness of someone who’d already had a few drinks too many. His eyes slid over Kaito in a way that made his skin crawl.

“You’re new,” the man said, smiling a little too widely. “I haven’t seen you before.”

Kaito shifted his weight slightly. “I suppose not.”

Before he could step back, the man took a small step forward, his hand lifting—clearly intending to brush Kaito’s arm.

It didn’t happen.

Renji’s hand shot out, catching the man’s wrist in a grip that looked deceptively casual. His voice was calm, but it carried a dangerous edge. “I wouldn’t.”

The man blinked, surprised. “I was just—”

Renji’s fingers tightened. “You were just about to touch something that doesn’t belong to you.”

The words dropped like ice into the air between them. Around them, the low buzz of conversation continued, but a few people nearby noticed the shift—how Renji’s usually composed demeanor was edged with a cold, unmistakable threat.

Kaito glanced at Renji, seeing the faintest shadow of something in his eyes—possession, yes, but also a warning to anyone who might think they could lay claim.

The man forced a strained laugh, trying to shake it off. “You’re very protective.”

Renji didn’t smile. “No. I’m territorial.”

The man’s smirk faltered, and after a tense moment, he muttered something under his breath and stepped away, retreating into the crowd.

Renji didn’t watch him go. His hand lingered on Kaito’s wrist now, his thumb brushing lightly against his skin as if to erase the touch that never happened.

“You all right?” he asked, voice low.

Kaito exhaled slowly. “I’m fine. You didn’t have to—”

“I did.” Renji’s gaze was sharp. “Kaito, there are men in this room who think they can take whatever they want. I’m here to remind them they can’t. Not when it comes to you.”

Something in Kaito’s chest tightened. He wanted to argue, to say he didn’t need protecting like that—but part of him also knew that in Renji’s world, a single moment of hesitation could be dangerous.

The music swelled as the band shifted into a slower number. Renji guided Kaito toward the balcony, away from the cluster of watching eyes. The night air was cool, carrying the scent of rain on the wind.

Renji leaned against the railing, studying him. “Do you regret coming?”

Kaito shook his head. “No. I knew what kind of place this was.”

“And?”

“And I also know,” Kaito said quietly, “that you were watching me the whole time.”

Renji’s mouth curved slightly at the corner, the tension in his jaw easing. “Always.”

Inside, the party went on without them, laughter and music spilling into the night. But out here, under the city’s glittering skyline, Kaito could feel the weight of Renji’s gaze—a gaze that promised protection, possession, and maybe something darker.

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