Chapter 4: True Love
On a lazy Saturday morning, Azazel slogged through another stack of paperwork for his handler—the unofficial tax on his secret life. When he finally finished, he was sprawled on his couch, mindlessly channel-surfing, when his phone buzzed.
Ruyi: Bored. Mall?
Azazel:Yeah. Meet you there in 20.
At the mall, Ruyi immediately steered him toward a trendy clothing boutique. She began holding up various outfits, asking for his opinion.
"They look great,"he said, giving each a cursory glance.
Then,she emerged from the fitting room in something decidedly less casual—a sleek, form-fitting dress that left little to the imagination.
Azazel's brain short-circuited. Wow. I'm already losing my mind just looking at her. Stay focused, man. Stay focused.
"Ruyi, this one is... a little too much. I can barely focus," he managed, his voice slightly strained.
"Good," she said with a triumphant smirk, examining herself in the mirror. "That means I'm taking this one, too."
Is she for real right now?he thought, a mix of exasperation and awe twisting in his gut.
At the counter, Ruyi smoothly pulled out a matte black credit card to pay. Azazel caught a glimpse of the unfamiliar insignia before she tucked it away. He was stunned but decided to file the observation away for later. Questions for another time.
As they wandered past a shop window displaying beachwear, Ruyi's eyes lit up. "Azazel, let's get swimsuits! We can go to the beach today!"
Inside the shop, Ruyi modeled several bikinis. Azazel tried to maintain a cool detachment, but he was completely locked in, his usual composure melting away. Damn, what's happening? I've seen a lot of naked girls, but seeing her in a bikini is knocking me off my game. What the fuck is this? I need to get my shit in order.
"Okay, that's enough," he finally said, his voice a little rough. "My turn to pick something." He grabbed the first cool-looking pair of swim trunks he saw and marched to the counter, paying for both of their items with his street racing money before she could object.
Later, Ruyi led him to a sleek, modern office tower in the business district. "I'll just be a minute," she said. "I need to drop my bags at my father's office. You can go home, put your things away, and come pick me up in your car."
Azazel froze. "Car? What car? I don't have a car." A wave of paranoid confusion hit him. How did she know? I never talked about that.
She gave him a look that was both patient and knowing. "Azazel, you can lie to other people. You can't lie to me. I've seen the car keys you always fiddle with. The fancy keychain doesn't exactly scream 'subway pass.'"
He let out a slow breath, caught. "Oh. Sorry. But let's keep this between you and me. We don't need other people knowing."
Yes, I was being sloppy. Damn, this girl is really knocking me off my game. But why do I keep trying to be with her? My goal was just to sleep with her... wasn't it?
"Okay," he conceded. "I'll be back fast. You know where to wait."
---
The drive to the beach in his Datsun 240z, the purr of the engine a shared secret. They spent the golden afternoon hours in the sun and surf, and as the sky began to blush with evening, Ruyi kissed him, the taste of salt on her lips.
"Do you know any exciting places we can go tonight?" she asked, her eyes searching his.
Azazel felt a familiar thrill mix with his newfound caution. "Sure. But you have no right to complain. We've gone everywhere you wanted today. Since you asked, we're going to my spot."
The atmosphere at Daikoku Parking Area that Saturday night was more than a gathering; it was a full-blown festival of horsepower and rebellion. Bass-heavy music thumped through the air, mixing with the smell of gasoline and grilled food from yatai stalls. Hundreds of people milled around rows of meticulously modified cars.
Azazel parked on the periphery. "Ruyi, how do you feel right now?"
She was silent, her eyes wide as she took in the spectacle—the neon glow on polished chrome, the gangs of laughing drivers, the palpable sense of dangerous excitement. She wasn't scared; she was mesmerized.
A lanky racer with a shock of bleached hair spotted them and sauntered over. "What's up, Black 鬼おに of the hill!" he called, using the nickname the scene had given Azazel.
Azazel fist-bumped him. "What's up, dog?"
"Crazy prize pool tonight. You joining? We need your Datsun for some tandem drift action."
"Not tonight, man," Azazel said, nodding subtly toward Ruyi. "Just here to chill and watch."
The racer's eyes flicked to Ruyi, and a wide, understanding grin spread across his face. "I see you brought your girl. Guess there's always next time. Later, Oni!" He melted back into the crowd. A few other people waved or called out, their greetings a clear sign of Azazel's status in this underground world.
Ruyi finally turned to him, her voice a mix of astonishment and accusation. "Wow. You're very popular here. This is a lot of people."
"You wanted something exciting," he said, evading her unspoken question. "Watching a bunch of races is gonna be exciting."
"You just changed the subject."
"No.And yes."
They watched a few heats, the screaming engines and screeching tires a symphony of controlled chaos. As the final race of the night wrapped up, Ruyi turned to him, the noise of the crowd fading into a background hum.
"My father is back from his business trip early," she said, her voice casual but her eyes watching him carefully. "Come have dinner at my house tonight. I told him I'd bring you."
Azazel's blood ran cold. The casual mention of a parent—a father—in a home setting was a landmine in his world. Dinners were for handlers and interrogations, not for girlfriends' families. This wasn't just hanging out; this was a test. An inspection.
Did she plan this? he thought, panic sharpening his senses. From the mall, to the beach, to here... leading me right to the lion's den? What does her father know? What does he want?
He forced his expression to remain neutral, the mask he wore in class sliding into place. "Dinner? With your dad? You sure that's a good idea?"
Ruyi just smiled, a little enigmatic. "I'm sure. He wants to meet the boy who's been making me smile. Don't worry, he doesn't bite." She paused, then added, "Much."
The drive to her house would no longer be a cool cruise; it would feel like a procession to an execution. was about to sit down for a family meal, and he had never felt more out of his depth.
———
Azazel followed Ruyi's directions to an affluent, quiet neighborhood, the Datsun's engine sounding increasingly out of place. When they turned into a long, gated driveway leading to a sprawling, modern mansion, his stomach dropped.
Oh shit. She lives in a mansion. No wonder she had the black credit card.
The scale of the wealth on display was a different league entirely.He parked, feeling acutely aware of every scrape on his car's paint.
They were led inside by a staff member and waited in a sunken living room that looked like a magazine spread. Azazel's every instinct screamed to catalog exits and assess threats. Then, Ruyi's father arrived.
The man didn't just enter the room; he occupied it. Ragnar Ironveil was tall, with a bearing that spoke of command, his eyes sharp and assessing even as he offered a smile. Azazel felt an overwhelming, primal urge to be on guard. This man was a predator of a different kind.
"Dad, this is my boyfriend, Azazel," Ruyi said, her voice steady. "Azazel, this is my father, Ragnar Ironveil."
Azazel stood, instinctively extending his hand. Ragnar's grip was crushing, a test disguised as a greeting. "Strong grip you've got there, son," he said, his gaze boring into Azazel. "And no surname?"
"No, sir."
Ragnar released his hand. "No need for 'sir.' You can call me Ironveil." A faint, knowing smile played on his lips. "A YN like you should be okay with that kind of name."
Azazel's blood ran cold. YN? Who the hell is this guy? How does he know that term? It was agency slang, something from his old life he'd never heard in Tokyo. The facade of the normal girlfriend's father cracked, revealing something far more dangerous beneath.
"Okay, enough introductions," Ragnar boomed, the intensity melting back into genial host. "Let's eat. I'm starving."
Dinner was a surreal experience of lavish food and surface-level conversation. They talked about school, kendo, and Ruyi. Azazel kept his answers vague and polite, his mind racing. Eventually, he asked, "Is it always just you two?"
"My mother is in China right now," Ruyi explained. "She has a weekly fashion consultancy there."
"Cool," Azazel said. "So that's where you get your fashion sense."
Ragnar chuckled, a warmer, more nostalgic sound. "My boy, if you saw my lovely wife, you'd ask me how I ever got her. I miss the chaos. It was just me and her against the world once." He launched into stories of their early days, his love for his wife shining through with a startling vulnerability.
As Azazel listened, a strange realization dawned on him, cutting through his paranoia. Why am I here? Relationships were just transactions before. A means to an end. But this... meeting a family, hearing about a love that lasted... Is this because I'm stuck making a new life? Or is it because every time I look at her, I just feel... happy?
The thought hit him like a physical blow,both terrifying and undeniable. Oh shit. I think I'm in love with her.
---
After dinner, Ruyi walked him to his car. The night air was cool. "You know," she said softly, turning to face him, "I am actually in love with you."
She kissed him,and this time it was different—a confession, not just an attraction. When they parted, Azazel's usual cool was gone, replaced by raw honesty.
"Ruyi...I love you, too. I can't stop thinking about you. It feels... strange. Good, but strange."
Ruyi smiled, a beautiful, genuine thing. She reached up and unclasped a thin black cord necklace from around her own neck. Dangling from it was a gemstone of a color he couldn't name—somewhere between deep violet and shifting twilight. She placed it in his hands.
"Here.This is from my grandmother. I'm giving it to you."
Azazel stared at the stone, which seemed to hold a faint, inner light. "Wait, isn't this important to you?"
"Yes,"she said, her hand closing over his. "But you are important to me, too, Azazel."
He accepted the gift, the weight of it feeling immense. He kissed her again, a promise sealed, before driving home, his world irrevocably changed.
---
The next Sunday morning, Azazel lay on his sofa, turning the mysterious necklace over in his hands. The gem seemed to shift under the light, a permanent, beautiful enigma.
His phone buzzed. It was Kenji. "Hey! We're hitting the pool with some of the guys and a few girls from the art club. You in? Bring Ruyi!"
Azazel agreed.He called his handler, who, after a tense moment of silence, granted a temporary "leisure pass" and even drove him to the upscale pool complex, a silent reminder of her oversight.
He met Kenji, Yuto, and the others. A group of girls from the art club were already there, chatting animatedly. Azazel nudged Kenji. "How did you get these girls to come?"
Kenji looked sheepish."It wasn't me, man."
"Then who?"
"Yuto."
Azazel burst out laughing."The nerd has more game than all of you combined!" he crowed.
Kenji shoved him,flustered. "Shut up, man! They're just... his childhood friend invited them!"
"Sure,sure," Azazel laughed, clapping a blushing Yuto on the shoulder. "Dude, I had no idea. Look at these other guys, standing there like a bunch of lost puppies."
Soon after, Ruyi arrived. After changing, they all hit the water.
The boys showed off with ridiculous dives while Ruyi seamlessly integrated with the group of girls.
Later,treading water together, Azazel remarked, "You're actually really friendly with them. It's unexpected."
"I know all of them,"Ruyi said simply. "I make a point to remember everyone's name."
"You just always seem...solitary. Going home alone, not in a big group."
"I get that a lot.I like my space, but I have connections," she said, her gaze knowing. "And you? You watch everyone like you're assessing a threat. Except right now."
Azazel deflected."And by the way, I didn't know our resident genius was so popular with the art club."
Ruyi laughed."I know, right? Who would have guessed?"
---
After the pool, the group dispersed. Ruyi came back to Azazel's apartment. They settled on his couch, the easy comfort of the day lingering. A movie played unnoticed on the TV.
Then, Ruyi shifted, climbing onto his lap to straddle him. She kissed him, a slow, deep kiss that quickly turned hungry. His hands came up to cradle her face, then slid down her back. She pulled his t-shirt over his head; he fumbled with the tie of her swimsuit cover-up, then the clasp of her bra, his fingers for once not steady, not practiced, but earnest.
Breathless, they stumbled from the couch to his bed. This wasn't a transaction or a conquest. It was a different kind of surrender—two people, each with their own secrets, choosing to be unguarded, to be real, if only for a while. The outside world, with its handlers and past lives and mysterious fathers, faded away, leaving nothing but the shared truth of skin and whispered confessions in the dark.