My eyes are glued to the small, menacing drone hovering outside the restaurant window like a technologically advanced, judgment-wielding mosquito preparing to strike. Haruka actually deployed a surveillance drone. On our private, high-class dinner. This is not just rivalry anymore; this is borderline espionage with expensive equipment. My sister hangs out with criminals.
Ichigo follows my gaze, a flicker of genuine surprise crossing his handsome face before it settles back into his usual charming, slightly amused smirk. "Ah," he says calmly, taking another delicate bite of his Wagyu-and-flower concoction. "It seems your fan club is quite… dedicated. Or perhaps just exceptionally poorly disguised." He sounds more entertained than annoyed.
The two industry executives, Ms. Tanaka and Mr. Sato, finally notice what we are looking at. They peer towards the window, their expressions shifting from polite business interest to utter confusion. "Is that… a drone?" Ms. Tanaka asks, squinting.
"Probably just paparazzi," Ichigo dismisses smoothly, with the casual air of someone who deals with drone surveillance on a daily basis. Though the quick, knowing look he shoots me suggests he knows exactly who is piloting that thing, and possibly finds the whole situation hilarious. "Occupational hazard when you are this devastatingly charming." He winks again, but this time it feels less targeted at me and more like a general statement of fact. He turns his attention back to me, his expression unreadable, the earlier intensity slightly softened by amusement. "As I was saying, Rui-kun, 'Starlight Paladin.' A fascinating show. All about heroes keeping promises, overcoming darkness…" His gaze is intense again, probing, like he is trying to see right through my carefully constructed wall of awkwardness. Is he testing me? Does he know about Aiwa? Does he know about me?
My brain is screaming DANGER. This conversation, combined with the live drone feed undoubtedly being analyzed by Haruka (and probably Rina), is heading into territory I cannot afford to explore. I need plausible deniability. I need to get out of here. Now. Before I accidentally reveal all my secrets or get implicated in an international drone incident.
"Wow, would you look at the time!" I exclaim suddenly, faking a massive yawn with the dramatic flair of a kabuki actor. My acting skills are definitely improving under pressure. "It is getting incredibly late! School night, you know. Early start tomorrow! Lots of… school things to prepare for." I start to slide awkwardly out of my seat, nearly knocking over a ridiculously tiny glass of expensive water. "This was absolutely fantastic, Ichigo-san, Ms. Tanaka, Mr. Sato, really informative, top-notch foam, thank you so much for the dinner!" My words are tumbling out in a panicked rush.
Ichigo looks momentarily surprised by my abrupt, bordering-on-rude departure but recovers instantly, his charming smirk firmly back in place. "Leaving so soon, Sir Rui?" he asks, a distinct note of amusement in his voice. "The night is still young. We have not even discussed the synergistic potential of cross-platform handler branding yet."
"Duty calls!" I say vaguely, already backing towards the door like a crab escaping a boiling pot. "Handler responsibilities! Wing maintenance emergencies! Urgent glitter shortages! You know how it is!"
"Indeed," he says, his smirk widening into a full-blown grin. He finds my panic genuinely entertaining, the sadist. He stands up smoothly and offers his hand again. "It truly was a pleasure, Rui. We must do this again sometime. Perhaps somewhere less… observable. With fewer airborne spectators." He actually chuckles.
I shake his hand quickly, trying not to notice how his grip is firm yet gentle (damn Kenji's accurate description), and make my escape from the private room, ignoring the utterly bewildered looks from the executives who probably think I am insane.
I practically sprint through the fancy restaurant lobby, ignoring the disdainful glares from the staff who clearly know I do not belong here, and burst out onto the glamorous Ginza street, gasping for air like a man who just escaped a collapsing building. I look up instinctively. The drone is gone. Presumably recalled by its ruthless operator, Haruka, her mission of terrorizing me complete.
My phone immediately starts buzzing, vibrating violently in my pocket like it contains a swarm of furious, digital bees. It is the group chat, predictably exploding with accusations and demands.
Rina: YOU ARE ALIVE! STATUS?! DID THE DRONE COMPROMISE YOU?! WHAT DID YOU TELL HIM?! WHY DID YOU RUN?! WAS HE SECRETLY A VAMPIRE?!Haruka: Data acquisition incomplete due to premature subject withdrawal and aerial surveillance limitations. Explain your erratic behavior, Rui-kun. Did he make a move?Aiwa: Are you okay?! Did something happen?! You left so suddenly! Please be careful! 🙏 Kenji: DID YOU GET DESSERT?! WAS IT A FLAMING SWORD MADE OF CHOCOLATE?! OR PERHAPS A MINIATURE REPLICA OF ICHIGO-SAMA HIMSELF MADE OF PURE SUGAR?! THE PEOPLE NEED TO KNOW!
I cannot deal with this right now. Not a single brain cell has the capacity. I silence my phone, shoving it deep into my pocket, and start walking quickly towards the nearest train station, my mind racing faster than the bullet train itself.
What just happened? Ichigo is definitely interested in me, but why? Is it professional curiosity? Is he trying to recruit me? Is he just messing with me because he finds my chaotic life amusing? Does he know about LUNA/Aiwa? Does he suspect my connection to 'Starlight Paladin'? His comments felt so targeted, so deliberate, but shrouded in that infuriating charm. And that smile… it is charming, yes, but there is something calculating, almost mischievous, behind it. And did he just imply he knows Haruka was spying on us with a drone?!
And then there is the drone itself. Haruka has crossed a serious line. A creepy, technologically invasive, probably illegal line. Rina's panic button suddenly seems quaint and reassuring in comparison. My sister might be possessive and slightly unhinged, but at least her surveillance methods are (mostly) low-tech.
I finally make it home, exhausted, paranoid, and smelling faintly of truffle foam. The apartment is dark. Rina must still be out with the "Surveillance Squad," probably back at Haruka's place, analyzing drone footage like it is the Zapruder film and plotting their next move in the ongoing war for my sanity. I lock my door (a completely pointless gesture, I know Rina can pick it with a hairpin she probably stole from Haruka), collapse onto my bed, and stare blankly at the ceiling.
My life has become impossibly, ridiculously complicated. I am juggling three potential love interests (one sister, one rival, one childhood maybe-fiancée/secret goddess), one idiot best friend/fanboy/potential liability, two stressed-out manager-friends, and now, a mysterious, charming, impossibly handsome, possibly manipulative cosplay superstar who seems to have taken a special, and deeply unsettling, interest in me for reasons I cannot fathom.
I close my eyes. Maybe if I just lie here long enough, I will wake up and discover this was all just a bizarre, stress-induced fever dream involving way too much glitter and emotional espionage.
(Narrator: He will not. In fact, it is about to get much, much worse.)