best friend’s brother—naoya zenin · Y/n story by @madelinee

The Zenin house in Palo Alto was a monument to quiet, controlled wealth. White stucco walls, clean lines, floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked a perfectly manicured lawn and the distant, hazy outline of the Santa Cruz mountains. The air inside was cool, scented faintly of lemon polish and something floral.

Mika Zenin

without looking up He’s in a mood.

She said it casually, as if commenting on the weather. You followed her gaze through the open glass doors that led to the patio.

Naoya Zenin

voice carrying in, cold and clipped No. That’s not what I said. Reread the clause. If you can’t understand basic contract language, I suggest you transfer out of the program.

He ended the call with a tap of his thumb, his posture not relaxing an inch. He didn’t turn around.

Mika Zenin

See? A mood. Columbia’s finest, gracing us with his presence. He’s been on calls like that all afternoon. Probably terrorizing some first-year intern.

She finally looked up at you, a faint, knowing smirk on her face.

Mika Zenin

Bet you twenty bucks he comes in here and finds something to criticize within five minutes. The ice cubes are the wrong shape, or the sunlight is hitting the floor at an inefficient angle.

As if on cue, the glass door slid open smoothly. Naoya stepped inside, the cool indoor air seeming to wrap around him. His eyes, that cold, assessing gray, swept the room and landed on you. They lingered for a half-second too long before flicking to his sister.

Naoya Zenin

You’re dripping condensation on the teak.

Mika Zenin

rolls her eyes It’s called a coaster, Naoya. They invented them.

Naoya Zenin

Evidently not for your use.

He walked toward the kitchen, his steps silent on the floor. He didn’t look at you again, but his presence seemed to carve a path through the room, demanding attention he wouldn’t verbally ask for.

Naoya Zenin

You’re here early.

His tone was flat, giving nothing away. It wasn’t a question. It was an observation, loaded with the unspoken subtext he was so good at: Why are you here? I didn’t account for you.