The mall was alive with color and chatter, a weekend rush of shoppers, couples, and influencers chasing the next trend. But none of them were ready for the storm that walked in wearing black-on-black, eyes sharp, posture regal, and aura untouchable.
Raijo had changed.
Not his face — that was the same. But the way he moved, the way people felt him before they saw him. He didn't walk into the mall. He arrived. And the air shifted.
He leaned against a marble pillar near the entrance, phone in hand, waiting.
Then she appeared.
Aria, the former pizza shop receptionist, now dressed in a casual crop top and jeans, her hair tied up, her smile bright. She spotted him and paused — confused. Not because she didn't recognize him, but because the timid boy she used to tease had been replaced by someone… dangerous.
"Raijo?" she asked, blinking.
He smirked. "Took you long enough."
She laughed and rushed into a hug, arms wrapping around his neck. She expected the old Raijo — the one who'd blush and stammer.
Instead, his hand slid down and gave her a firm squeeze.
She gasped, pulling back slightly, cheeks flushed. "You're bold now."
Raijo's eyes didn't waver. "You've always had a fine ass. I figured it deserved a few dresses."
Aria stared at him, stunned. Then she smiled — not shy, not offended. Just… intrigued. "You've changed."
"Upgraded," he said simply.
They walked together, side by side, her arm looped through his. "So… how've you been?"
"Alive," Raijo replied. "And you?"
"I'm an accountant now. For a boutique store downtown."
He nodded. "Smart move."
She tilted her head. "You came into money?"
"Something like that."
Raijo stopped in front of a luxury fashion outlet. "You wanna flex today?"
Aria blinked. "With you?"
He nodded once.
She didn't hesitate. "Hell yes."
—
The spree began.
Clothing stores. Designer racks. Custom fittings. Raijo didn't ask for prices — he just pointed. Aria tried on dresses, heels, jackets, and every time she stepped out of the changing room, he gave her a look that made her blush and walk straighter.
The staff took photos with him, convinced he was an actor or model. One girl kissed his cheek and squealed. Aria just smiled, holding his arm tighter, her grip possessive.
Then came the gaming store.
Guys fumed as their girlfriends ignored them to gawk at Raijo. Some tried to act cool. Others just stared. Aria didn't care. She held him like he was hers — and Raijo? He played along.
Every time someone called them a couple, he nodded.
Every time Aria blushed, he squeezed her again.
She didn't pull away.
She leaned in.
—
Raijo and Aria strolled through the mall like royalty on a casual tour. Every store they entered turned into a photo op. Every glance from strangers carried curiosity, envy, or thirst. And Raijo? He soaked it in like sunlight.
Aria, once the teasing receptionist, now clung to his arm like she'd won the lottery. Her outfit had upgraded twice already — a sleek black dress hugging her curves, heels that clicked like confidence, and a designer bag she didn't even ask for.
They passed a group of college girls near the escalator. One whispered, "Is he famous?" Another giggled, "He's definitely an actor." A third, bolder than the rest, walked up and kissed Raijo's cheek.
Aria blinked, stunned.
Raijo just smiled and said, "Appreciate the love."
The girl melted away, squealing with her friends.
Aria narrowed her eyes, gripping his arm tighter. "You're enjoying this way too much."
Raijo leaned in, lips brushing her ear. "You're the one holding me like a trophy. I'm just playing the part."
She blushed, but didn't let go.
They entered a gaming store next. Neon lights, loud music, and rows of consoles and merch. Raijo picked up a limited-edition headset, tossed it to the cashier without checking the price. A group of guys nearby watched in silence as their girlfriends drifted toward Raijo like moths to flame.
One guy muttered, "Who the hell is that?"
Another replied, "I don't know, but he's stealing the whole mall."
Aria turned, smiling sweetly. "He's mine."
Raijo didn't correct her. In fact, when another couple walked by and said, "You two look good together," he nodded and gave Aria's backside a casual squeeze.
She gasped, then laughed, leaning into him. "You're shameless."
"And you're glowing," he said, eyes locked on hers.
They left the store with bags in both hands, paparazzi-level attention trailing behind them. Raijo didn't flinch. He walked like he owned the place. Aria didn't just follow — she matched his stride.
As they reached the food court, Raijo turned to her. "Hungry?"
"Starving," she said.
"Then let's eat like we're rich and bored."
—
The Spark That Lit the Fire
The food court buzzed with life — trays clattered, laughter echoed, and the scent of grilled meat and sweet pastries filled the air. Raijo and Aria sat at a corner table, surrounded by shopping bags and half-finished plates, laughing over some joke only they understood.
Then the air shifted.
A hush fell over the crowd as a procession entered the court. Ayasia Ryombi, flanked by her two maids and her ever-intimidating bodyguard Kaede, strode through the space like a queen surveying her domain. Heads bowed. Whispers followed.
"She's even more beautiful in person…"
"That's the Ice King's daughter…"
"Look at that aura…"
But at one table — the only one that didn't flinch — Raijo and Aria kept eating.
No bow. No glance. No pause.
Just laughter and another bite of grilled beef.
Kaede's eyes narrowed. She stepped forward, boots clicking sharply against the tile. She stopped beside their table, arms crossed.
"You there," she said, voice like steel. "Show some respect. You're in the presence of Lady Ryombi."
Raijo looked up, chewing slowly. "Do I know you?"
Kaede's brow twitched. "You will."
Before he could blink, her foot slammed into his gut, launching him across the food court. He crashed into a wall with a thunderous crack, leaving a crater of shattered tile and bent steel. The tables in his path were obliterated — and the people sitting there?
Gone. Crushed. Screams erupted.
"RAIJO!" Aria screamed, rushing to him.
He groaned, coughing blood, eyes wide in disbelief. "Are you insane?" he rasped. "You just killed people—"
Kaede didn't care.
She turned and, without hesitation, drove her heel into Aria's head.
The sound was sickening.
Aria's body crumpled to the floor, lifeless.
Raijo's eyes went blank.
Kaede grabbed him by the throat, lifting him off the ground like a ragdoll. "You think you can disrespect the Ryombi name and walk away? You're nothing. A stray dog pretending to be a lion."
Unbeknownst to them, a teenager in the crowd had gone live on social media. The stream was already viral. Comments flooded in.
> "WTF is happening???"
> "That's Ayasia Ryombi's guard!"
> "Did she just kill someone?!"
> "Wait… is that the guy from the evaluation hall?!"
---
Scene Shift: Ryombi Estate, Private Office
Rumi Ryombi sat behind a massive desk of polished icewood, sipping tea as the news played on a holographic screen. His expression was unreadable, eyes half-lidded.
He watched the footage of Kaede lifting Raijo by the throat, the chaos, the screams.
"Hmph," he muttered. "Just a street rat. Should've known better."
A knock at the door.
His secretary entered, tablet in hand. "Sir. You need to see this."
She tapped the screen. A photo appeared — Raijo, standing beside a woman in crimson.
Rumi's eyes narrowed.
Then widened.
The cup in his hand cracked.
"…Yumi Ichoshima," he whispered.
The room dropped ten degrees.
He stood slowly, then in a blur of motion, shattered the window behind him and launched into the sky. Ice formed beneath his feet as he sprinted across rooftops, each step freezing the air.
If Yumi gets there first…
Tokyo might not survive the fallout.
—
End of chapter 7