Ever since Rin Kuga had uttered those weightier-than-expected words, the stillness in Sakura Yamauchi's heart had vanished. A faint, persistent flush clung to her cheeks, as vivid as if she had applied a heavy layer of rouge.
It remained there, glowing softly, as they finished their lunch and stepped out of the yakiniku restaurant.
They walked side by side down the bustling street. Sakura stole side-long glances at the man walking beside her, her mind racing back to his earlier declaration. The more she chewed on it, the more her internal rhythm faltered. Suddenly, she puffed out her cheeks, her face a mask of playful indignation.
She spun toward him, blocking his path with a theatrical pout. "You know, Kuga-san, when a guy goes on a date with a girl, isn't he supposed to at least pretend to be a gentleman and pay? Not only did you not offer, but you actively made me settle the bill! Don't you think that's a bit much?"
She leaned in close, her face inches from his, radiating a feisty energy that demanded an apology.
Rin didn't flinch. Instead, he took a subtle step back, maintaining a pocket of cool air between them. A faint, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"You were the one who insisted on this 'date,'" Rin replied smoothly. "Logic dictates that the host provides the hospitality. It seems perfectly natural to me."
He punctuated the statement with a soft, almost mocking tilt of his head, as if amused by her frustration.
Sakura's cheeks puffed out even further. She searched for a witty comeback, a sharp retort to puncture his regal composure, but found none. His logic was irritatingly sound. The more she realized he was right, the more her annoyance flared.
"Hmph!"
Unable to win the argument, she crossed her arms over her chest and whipped her head away. Without another word, she surged forward, her footsteps falling in a sharp, rhythmic staccato as she attempted to leave him in her dust.
Rin merely shrugged, unbothered by the sudden distance. He followed at a leisurely pace, his stride measured and calm. He saw no reason to rush. He had agreed to this outing as a form of "payment" for the meal, and he intended to fulfill his end of the bargain on his own terms.
Ahead of him, Sakura glanced back over her shoulder. Seeing that he wasn't even attempting to give chase, her pace quickened in a fit of pique. Her legs moved in a blur of motion, rapidly widening the gap until Rin was a distant figure in the crowd.
"Ah—!"
Distracted by her own temper and the constant need to check Rin's position, Sakura failed to notice the cluster of men directly in her path. She collided head-on with a solid wall of leather and cheap cologne. The impact sent her reeling, and with a sharp cry, she collapsed onto the hard pavement.
"Ow... what was that?" she muttered, squeezing her eyes shut as she rubbed her smarting forehead.
"Well, hello there... what have we here?" A coarse, grating voice cut through the air.
The group of hoodlums, dressed in garish, mismatched street clothes, loomed over her. Their leader, a man with a jagged sneer and eyes that roved over Sakura with predatory interest, let out a low whistle. Before Sakura could scramble to her feet, he reached out, his hand snaking toward her with clear, sinister intent.
In that instant, the air pressure around them plummeted.
The thug's hand stopped inches from Sakura's shoulder. It wasn't because he had a change of heart; it was because his wrist was suddenly encased in a grip that felt like hydraulic steel.
Rin Kuga appeared like a ghost between them. He stood over the fallen girl, his right hand clamped around the man's arm with a strength that defied his slender frame.
"Do not lay your filth upon what belongs to me," Rin said. His voice was a low, tectonic rumble, vibrating with the quiet fury of a sovereign witnessing an act of high treason.
He began to tighten his grip. The sound of creaking bone and straining sinew was audible over the ambient city noise.
"Aaargh! Stop! It hurts! Let go!"
The leader of the thugs collapsed to his knees, his face contorting into a mask of agony. He clawed at Rin's arm with his free hand, but it was like trying to move a mountain. Behind him, his companions stood frozen, their bravado evaporating as they looked into Rin's eyes—eyes that held the cold, indifferent gaze of a king deciding the fate of a traitor.
From her position on the ground, Sakura looked up at the silhouette of the boy standing before her. Her heart, which had been racing from the fall, suddenly skipped a beat for an entirely different reason.
She didn't know what Rin felt for her, or why he was shielding her with such terrifying intensity. But as the shadows seemed to warp and lengthen around his feet, she realized one thing with crystalline clarity.
Beneath that icy, inscrutable mask, Rin Kuga was protecting her. And in that moment, the "date" felt more real than any fiction she had ever lived.