behind his eyes

Five years later…

Yuki adjusted his tie for the third time, palms damp with nerves. The reflection in the mirror showed a young man, no longer a boy—sharper jawline, slightly broader shoulders, and tired eyes that had seen too much too soon. But underneath the professional polish, he still carried the same quiet ache.

The ache of a name he hadn’t spoken aloud in years: Kazuki Ren.

But today wasn’t about the past. It was about survival. Rent was due. His part-time gigs weren’t cutting it. And somehow—miraculously—he’d passed the final round of interviews for a job as the personal assistant to the CEO of Kazuki Corporation, the biggest conglomerate in the city.

Yuki had laughed bitterly when he saw the company name. Coincidence. It had to be. The Kazuki family was enormous—Ren could be anywhere in the world.

This wouldn’t mean anything.

Right?

---

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, revealing the thirty-seventh floor—sleek, silver, and suffocatingly silent.

“Mr. Kazuki is expecting you,” the receptionist said with a polite nod. “Go ahead.”

Yuki swallowed hard. “Thank you.”

He stepped in.

The CEO’s office was massive, dimly lit by the cloudy skyline stretching behind floor-to-ceiling windows. A desk sat at the far end, all glass and cold steel. The chair behind it was turned away, facing the view.

Yuki bowed formally. “I’m Yuki Hanabira, reporting as instructed—”

The chair turned slowly.

Yuki’s breath caught.

Time stopped.

It was him.

Older. Sharper. Beautiful in a dangerous, haunting way. Black hair combed back, jaw strong, expression unreadable—but those eyes were the same. Piercing, endless, cruel in their stillness.

“Sit,” Ren said, voice deeper now. Commanding.

Yuki sat automatically, legs trembling under the table.

For a full minute, Ren said nothing. Just looked at him—like he was dissecting him, memorizing every inch, every change.

“You’ve changed,” Ren said finally.

Yuki tried to keep his voice steady. “So have you.”

Another pause. “Why did you apply here?”

Yuki blinked. “I didn’t know… it was you.”

Ren leaned forward slightly. “Would you have still applied, if you did?”

“I—” Yuki hesitated. He didn’t know the answer. “Probably not.”

Ren’s lips twitched—almost a smile, but too dark to be called one. “Pity. I had you marked from the start.”

Yuki froze.

“What?”

Ren stood up, slowly. His tall frame cast a long shadow across the desk as he walked toward Yuki, every step deliberate, calculated.

“I watched you for years,” Ren murmured, circling him like a predator. “In school. Quiet. Observant. Sweet scent… even when you were scared.”

Yuki’s breath hitched. “You… you remember that?”

“I remember everything,” he said, now standing behind Yuki’s chair, voice dangerously close to his ear. “Your scent still lingers in my head. It never faded.”

Yuki stood abruptly and stepped away, putting distance between them. “Why didn’t you ever say anything then? Why leave without a word?”

Ren tilted his head. “You were too young. And I wasn’t ready. But I never lost track of you.”

The words felt like an invisible chain wrapping around Yuki’s chest. “You... followed me?”

“I invested in the companies you worked at,” Ren said, voice calm, like it was normal. “Had your records flagged. When I saw you applied here, I cleared your background check myself.”

Yuki’s stomach twisted. “That’s insane.”

“It’s fate.”

“No. It’s control,” Yuki said, stepping back again.

But Ren just watched him with those bottomless eyes. “And yet you’re here.”

Yuki’s hands clenched. “Because I needed the job. Not you.”

“Then quit,” Ren said simply. “Walk out that door.”

Silence.

Yuki didn’t move.

Ren stepped closer. “That’s what I thought.”

---

The rest of the day blurred. Tasks. Emails. Endless tension. Ren gave no further comment—just commands. Cold. Formal. Yet Yuki could feel his eyes burning into him all the time.

By the time the sun set, Yuki’s nerves were unraveling.

He stood by the window, trying to breathe.

“I scared you,” came the voice behind him.

Yuki turned. Ren was closer than he should’ve been.

“I’m not the boy you knew anymore,” Yuki said softly.

“I don’t want the boy,” Ren replied. “I want the man you became.”

The words hung heavy.

“Why now?” Yuki whispered. “After five years?”

Ren took one step forward. Then another.

“Because now I can touch you,” he murmured. “And no one can stop me.”

Yuki’s heart raced, torn between fear and something else. Something worse. Desire.

Ren reached out, brushing a hand against Yuki’s cheek. “You don’t have to pretend. Your scent gives you away.”