At the Sakura Avenue Restaurant

The restaurant’s entrance was a waterfall of holographic cherry blossoms, their pink glow washing over Rei as she adjusted the high collar of her borrowed dress; one of the hostess girls’ spares, sleek black and just expensive enough to blend in. Takumi waited at the bar, fingers drumming against a glass of untouched whiskey. His Kuroda cufflinks caught the light when he turned, spotting her, “You came”. A wide smile lit his handsome features.

Rei slid onto the stool beside him, “You invited me”, she nodded at the drink, “You’re young for a whiskey man, or are trying something new?” His jaw tightened. The hostesses had drilled her on tells. Too much melted ice in the glass. Fingers tapping on the rim. He didn’t answer and lead her to a nearby table with a reserved sign on. A robotic waiter glided over, offering a menu. Takumi waved it away, “We’ll have the tasting menu. And another whiskey.” Rei smirked, “Confident.” He smirked, “You’re here, aren’t you?”

The restaurant hummed around them; soft chatter, clinking porcelain, the occasional burst of laughter from a private booth. Rei let her knee brush his under the table. Just once. Takumi’s breath quickened. So did hers. “So,” she said, spinning her chopsticks between her fingers, “Why me?” Takumi stared at her, “You don’t look at me like most.” Rei almost laughed. Instead, she leaned closer, her voice a whisper, “Maybe because I like the way you call me mouse instead of rat.” His knuckles whitened around his glass. The robot waiter set down a tray of glistening sashimi, each slice arranged with surgical precision. The glow of holographic cherry blossoms drifted over the table, casting their faces in shifting pink light.

Takumi didn’t eat right away. He leaned back, whiskey in hand, watching Rei the way a tactician might study a battlefield. “So,” he said, tone casual but eyes sharp, “Tell me who you really are, little mouse. You’re too sharp to be just some street girl with beads.” Rei met his gaze, chopsticks hovering over the fish, “Careful. Curiosity killed the cat you know.” Takumi smirked, “Everything is worth knowing.” For a moment, she weighed her words.

Then she set her chopsticks down, “I’m no one special. My father was a boxer. Good moves, better heart. But he liked cards too much. And drinking. My mother tried to cover his debts, tried to help him. She was strong…”, Rei’s voice softened, the faintest shadow crossing her face, “But she gambled on the wrong man, and it cost her. Now they’re both gone.” Takumi’s smirk faltered, “So you are surviving on your own?” Rei nodded once, “Selling jewelry and doing odd jobs. Keeping my head above water.”

Silence stretched, broken only by the clink of ice in his glass. He swirled the drink, the ice cubes sounding like windchimes against the glass. Then Takumi leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, “It sounds though, but I actually envy you.” Rei raised an eyebrow, “You envy being broke and selling beads outside your university?” A low chuckle drifted from him, “No. I envy not having controlling parents. Me? My father’s a corporate bigshot. Which means I don’t breathe unless he says it’s air. Private tutors, etiquette lessons, endless drills on leadership and efficiency. They want me totally polished before I even graduate”, he watched the amber liquid of his drink catch the light, “Sometimes I just want to drift around. Open a ramen stall, start a band, something stupid. But I can’t. Not when every move I make is tracked by his expectations.”

Rei studied him, tilting her head slightly, “Couldn’t you still try? What’s the worst that could happen – he cuts off your trust fund?” Takumi gave a small, bitter smile, “The worst that could happen is not just that I stop being his son, it’s that I stop being anything at all.” Their eyes met, grey to black, the noise of the restaurant receding. For a heartbeat, they weren’t a corpo heir and a street mouse. Just two people pressed under the weight of parents who’d left their scars in different ways.

Rei leaned in, voice intimate, “You don’t have to prove yourself to me, Takumi.” He blinked, surprised. Then his lips curved, not the cocky smirk he gave his friends, but something genuine, “Careful, mouse. Talk like that and I might start relying on you.” Rei smirked faintly, brushing his knee under the table, “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Takumi’s breath hitched, almost inaudible. Rei blushes despise keeping her composure as she ate a piece of sashimi. Takumi raised his glass, covering his mounting heartrate and studying her blush, “To freedom, then. Yours, mine.” Rei clinked her glass against his whiskey, “To freedom.” The cherry blossoms flickered above them, as neither of them looked away, eyes locking.

Across the room, a security drone pivoted toward them. Takumi’s shoulders tensed. He put a hand in his left pocket, a low beep resonated. The drone beeped once and turned away. Rei’s fingers trailed along the edge of the table, “Must be draining,” she murmured, “having eyes on you all the time.” Takumi exhaled, long and slow, “You have no idea.” The robot returned with a plate of tiny, perfect dumplings that neither touched. Rei tilted her head, “Tell me.”

“What?”

“One thing they don’t want you to do, but you do anyway”, she held his gaze, “Just one. Other than eating out with a mouse like me.” Takumi chuckled, hesitated and glanced around, making sure no drones lingered too close, “I… sometimes sneak out to an old arcade,” he admitted, voice low, “Without anyone noticing. It’s stupid. Kids’ games, unhealthy snacks … but it feels like liberty.” Rei brushed some hair behind her ear. Her lips quirked, “A bubble of escape, bursting too soon. I know the feeling.” Her fingers brushed his wrist, casual, just enough to spark awareness without seeming deliberate. He swallowed, “Most people don’t really get it. You… you seem different, atypical.”

Rei pulled away sharply, feigning insult, “Atypical?” Takumi looked panicked for a second. She laughed, “Oh – It’s a compliment I guess?” She let her knee graze his again, slightly longer this time, testing his reaction. Rei felt her cheeks burn, but as his gray eyes flickered to hers, conflicted, tense, she saw he felt it too – the heat. He laughed softly, a hit of embarrassment showing, “You know just what to say, don’t you? Even with weightier topics… it’s nice, makes things feel simple.”

“Nothing is simple,” Rei said, voice quieter, “But you’re lucky… you’ve got rules you can bend, even if just a little”, she tilted her head, letting her hair fall just so over one shoulder, “I’m used to having nothing… in a way that means I’ve got nothing to lose, but it also makes me feel powerless sometimes. Bending your own chains, that must feel at least a little powerful.” Takumi’s jaw tightened, “You don’t know me.”

“Maybe not,” Rei admitted, letting a teasing smile curl her lips, “But I sense that you’re… smart, wary and scared someone will take it all away if you slip.” She leaned closer, voice just above a whisper, “Am I getting to know you?” He froze for a moment, then exhaled slowly, almost in surrender, “You’re… not terribly off target.” Rei’s smirk softened into something open, “I’ve meet some people, seen some things. You can learn a lot if you look carefully.” Her fingers traced near his hand, brushing just enough to make him twitch, “But honestly, I’m mostly just improvising.”

A pause hung between them. The robotic waiter returned, refilling whiskey into Rei’s glass without asking. Takumi’s hand hovered over his own glass, unsure if he should push it away or accept the gesture. The robot edged nearer, almost pouring onto Takumi’s hand, before he swapped it away annoyed. It chirped loudly and spun around itself before retreating. Her eyes sparkled with subtle amusement, “You’re cute,” she said quietly, almost a whisper. His throat bobbed. “I—”

“Shh.”, she put a finger on his mouth, eyes twinkling, “You don’t have to explain anything. Just relax.” Her smile was soft but teasing, giving and withholding all at once, like a challenge wrapped in warmth. For the first time that evening, Takumi calmed marginally, letting himself be just a guy under the gray eyes, black hair and polished cufflinks. The dent in his armor was there, and Rei saw it clear as day. “I hope sometime…,” she added lightly, removing her finger and leaning back just enough to seem casual, “maybe you can show me one of those rules you can bend all by yourself.”

Takumi’s lips twitched into a hesitant smile, “Maybe I will.” Rei rested her chin on her hand, as she watched him wrestle his simultaneous distrust and interest. For a heartbeat, he wavered. Then, with a sharp grin, he grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the bathrooms. He made a sharp turn behind a curtain and up fire escape stairs. Drones should’ve followed. Alarms should’ve blared. They didn’t. The rooftop was all illuminations and wind, the city sprawling beneath them like a circuit board. Takumi’s laugh was startled, almost wild, “They don’t monitor this area.”

The roof was glossy with rain, neon reflections quivering across the puddles like broken glass. Down below, Sakura Avenues pulsed; ramen vendors shouting above the hiss of steam, the deep thrum of bass from a karaoke den, the chop of rotor drones slicing through the drizzle. Holographic kanji shimmered on billboards, their pink and blue glow painting Takumi’s striking features in fractured light.

Rei pulled her hand free, brushing damp hair from her cheek. “Risky,” she murmured. Takumi’s laugh was quiet, but there was a new edge to it, rawer than the polished charm he wore downstairs, “That’s the point.” For a moment, neither spoke. The city’s noise filled the silence, chaotic but alive. Rei leaned against the railing, gazing down at the endless tide of umbrellas moving through the street like dark blossoms. She felt him watching her, the weight of him observing her more intoxicating than the whiskey they’d left behind.

When she finally turned, Takumi was already close. His hand rose hesitantly, fingertips brushing her chin. Cool, tentative. Testing whether she’d flinch. Rei didn’t. Her breath caught, heat flooding her cheeks as his thumb brushed her cheek and lingered just below her eye. “Are you… apprehensive?” he whispered. “I am,” Rei admitted softly, “Just not about this.” Takumi’s expression shifted, his practiced smirk dissolving into something almost boyish. His grey eyes darkened, clouds gathering in the silver depths. Then, daring himself more than her, he bent and pressed his lips to hers.

It was nothing like she’d imagined. Rei had never been kissed before, but in that trembling instant, her whole body seemed to spark alive. She blushed, not the calculated flush she’d practiced, but something raw and unguarded. Takumi pulled back an inch, searching her eyes. Whatever he saw there made him exhale shakily, forehead resting against hers. No words. Just silence thick with meaning. Rei leaned into him then, closing the gap herself. Their mouths met again, softer this time, lingering. She could taste the whiskey still clinging to his lips, hear the distant cry of a street vendor below calling gyoza, gyoza! as if the world hadn’t just tilted on its axis. They stayed like that, two silhouettes against a skyline of fire and light, her hands sliding up to the fabric of his jacket, his fingers tangled in the loose strands of her hair. The city roared beneath them, but on the rooftop, there was only the rustle of clothes, the hum of electricity and the rhythm of their breathing blending into one.

When they finally broke apart, Rei’s lips tingled, her pulse racing. Takumi’s thumb brushed her cheek again, slower now, reverent. “Mouse,” he murmured, voice unsteady, “You’re… dangerous.” Rei straightened confidently, though her blush betrayed her, “So are you.” They stood together in silence, the city alive below, the night stretching ahead. Rei’s lips curved. She let him press her against the railing, let his lips grazed her neck. His hands were gentle. His lips warm and soft on her throat.

The cylinder in her back pocket buzzed quietly, Karasu’s prearranged signal; they had scanned his override chip. Rei pulled back slightly, brushing hair from Takumi’s forehead. “Next time,” she whispered, “let’s visit this roof and just hang out here.” Then she slipped away, leaving him breathless against the skyline. Takumi’s chest rose and fell as Rei’s figure disappeared down the fire escape, her frame swallowed by the streets below. He clutched the railing, the city humming beneath him, and for a moment, the carefully constructed world of Kuroda faded into the thrill of possibility.

Rei didn’t look back as she descended the stairs, but inside, her chest tightened just vaguely. Takumi was charming, less arrogant that she had anticipated, even if he was a pawn, a target, a job. His grey eyes wide with a mix of curiosity and fear, jet-black hair mussed by the wind, his breath hot against her neck from the proximity she’d allowed. When she reached the street, Rei slowed, glancing over her shoulder. The restaurant’s holographic cherry blossoms shimmered faintly, casting pink light across the wet pavement. She allowed herself a small almost tender smile.

The city pulsed around her, indifferent and alive. Rei slid her hand over the note in her pocket, blushing. The note wasn’t just an address anymore. It was a front row ticket to someone Karasu wanted to use. It was a ticket to her survival; and her dad Jin’s. Her fingers brushed the note. It was a thread she could pull to learn more. And she would. Slowly, deliberately. Another thought lingered: she hoped Takumi would call on her again. That he’d want to see her. Not because she needed it, she told herself, but because keeping him interested, hooked, longing, was part of the job. A final glance at the rooftop’s glow, a last whisper of wind against her face and then Rei fused with the obscurity of Sakura Avenues. Step by step, she disappeared, leaving only the faintest trace of warmth and teasing behind her.

Takumi leaned back against the mirrored wall of the plaza elevator, still tasting Rei on his lips, feeling traces of her warmness pressed against him. The elevator doors whispered shut, cocooning him in chrome and silence. Street mouse. She wasn’t like anyone he’d ever met; too sharp to be naive, too soft to be hardened. He should’ve been suspicious. Instead, he found himself smiling the kind of smile he never wore in public.

The elevator chimed. The penthouse smelled faintly of home and imported cigars, primarily sterile yet suffocating. The glass walls framed Mirage City’s sprawl, glittering in the night haze like a million watchful eyes. Takumi’s shoes clicked softly across the stone floor. Then he froze. His father was there. Takumi Senior stood by the red marble bar, pouring a stream of shimmering sake into a crystal glass as casually as if the world bent to his schedule. His suit was midnight silk, his tie immaculate, his black hair combed into sharp lines that matched the precision of his jaw. The same grey eyes as his son, only colder, honed rather than clouded with integrity. “You’re back late,” Senior said, not looking up as he sipped. His voice carried a weight that filled the vast room, pressing against Takumi Junior’s core. Junior swallowed, smoothing his jacket as he approached, “I was out.”

“Out”, Senior tasted the word, swirling his glass. The liquid caught the city lights, gleaming, “Interesting choice of phrasing.” He turned, finally meeting his son’s eyes, “And where does ‘out’ take you, until this hour?” Junior held the stare, masking his flutter of nerves, choosing his words carefully, “I went to gain experience, father. Discussion. Observation. Expanding my understanding of the world”, he clasped a hand behind his back, the gesture respectful, “Every opportunity to gain practical knowledge is important, isn’t it?”

Silence stretched. Seniors’ steely gaze didn’t waver, dissecting him with surgical patience. Takumi Junior felt like he was standing under a scanner, each flicker of his pulse cataloged, every word weighed against unseen scales. At last, Senior set his glass down, “Learning,” he said slowly, “is essential.” He stepped closer, his presence a tide impossible to ignore. “But deficiency …”, his eyes flickered, authority emanating from him, “…or reckless gambling, Junior, carries consequences you cannot afford. Some mistakes cost you reputation – others cost you heritage.”

The words cut deep, colder than the air-conditioned hum of the penthouse. Senior lifted his glass again, drinking as though the conversation had already ended. Takumi Junior bowed his head slightly, his jaw clenched, “I understand.” But as he turned toward his room, the ghost of Rei’s blush, her lips, her teasing expression; all of it burned behind his eyelids despite his father’s warnings.