Then you stepped into the corridor. She stood near the briefing room doors, framed perfectly by the dim lights above—long hair immaculate, posture relaxed but confident. Her smile was soft, practiced, devastatingly pretty. Several lower-ranking members hovered nearby, already charmed.

And beside her—Chuuya Nakahara. Too close. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, listening to her with a faint, amused smirk. His hat was tipped back slightly.