Chapter Text
The doorbell's echo lingered in my ears as I stared at the immaculate wooden surface before me. I took a deep breath. My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I knew who it was before I even glanced at the screen. Sighing, I pulled it out and answered.
"Ami, are you there yet?" came the impatient voice of my publisher, Rin Takahashi.
"Yes, Mr. Takahashi. I just got here. I'm waiting at the door," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.
"This exclusive is the biggest thing for us right now. Everyone wants to hear from Ken Sato. Don't forget how lucky you are that he has chosen you for this interview."
"I know," I said, glancing at my reflection in the window beside the door.
"That's good," he said, his tone lightening a fraction. "Good luck, Ami."
With that, he hung up.
I sighed again and checked my watch. Right on time. I took out a small mirror from my bag and stared at my reflection. My makeup was perfect, my hair neatly styled and not a strand out of place. I blinked. Why was I so nervous?
The door swung open, and I nearly dropped my compact.
"Good morning, Miss Wakita," a robotic voice said. "Please come in."
I peeked my head in and glanced around. There was no one inside. "How did you...?" I began.
"I am a personal assistant and home automation system, Miss Wakita. You may call me Mina."
"Oh," I said, stepping in.
Kenji's home was stunning. I was struck first by the expansive openness of the space. High ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows bathed the interior in natural light, offering a breathtaking view of the garden outside. The living room was adorned with sleek, minimalist furniture in muted tones. A state-of-the-art entertainment system dominated one wall, complete with an enormous flat-screen TV and surround sound speakers discreetly integrated into the design.
"This way, Miss Wakita," Mina said.
"Please, call me Ami," I said.
"Very well, Ami," she replied, her voice as soft and melodic as a human's.
Soft golden lighting guided my steps through the living room, leading me toward a glass door which slid open as I approached.
"Wow," I breathed, awed by the lush greenery that awaited me.
A cobblestone path wound its way through the garden. Trees swayed gently in the breeze, their leaves rustling. A koi pond sat in the middle, its tranquil waters sparkling in the sunlight. Water trickled down a bamboo fountain, adding to the soothing atmosphere.
"Ami Wakita," a voice said.
I turned.
Kenji Sato stood tall and imposing. He wore a simple black shirt that hugged his muscular frame, emphasizing his broad shoulders and powerful arms. His face was all sharp lines and angles, a strong jawline, piercing dark eyes, and high cheekbones. His hair was raven black, styled neatly and combed back. He was handsome and the charismatic curve of his lips told me that he knew it.
I swallowed, suddenly aware of how dry my throat was. "Mr. Sato," I said. "It's good to see you again."
He tilted his head, his eyes twinkling with amusem*nt. "Ami please, call me Ken."
"Ken," I said, unable to help the blush that crept across my cheeks. "Thank you for inviting me into your home."
He gave me a lazy smile. "Thank you for coming. It's nice to see you again."
So he remembered.
It had been a year ago. The man I met at a press conference, the man I thought was nothing more than a co*cky baseball star, had quickly become someone I didn't recognize. One phone call, that had been all it took for me to see a side of Kenji I never knew existed. We had dinner one time, a meeting arranged under the pretext of a casual interview. Yet, halfway through the meal, he had abruptly excused himself and ran off, leaving me baffled and alone at the table.
I was sure he had forgotten, and why wouldn't he? We had one interview after that and had barely spoken to each other again. I was surprised when I got the news that he wanted me to do another one.
Kenji led me through the garden and I followed him in silence, still awed by the beautiful scenery around us. We stopped at a wooden deck, the sound of rushing water growing louder. He stepped aside and gestured for me to sit on the cushioned bench nearby.
"Is this where you would like to have the interview?" I asked.
"Yeah, it's nice here," he replied.
I took a seat. "You have a lovely home."
He sat next to me, angling his body to face mine. "Thanks. I got it a few months ago."
"After the old one blew up."
He chuckled. "Yeah, after that."
The wind picked up, rustling the leaves and rippling the water's surface. I glanced at the fountain, marveling at how clear and pristine the water was.
"Would you like something to drink?" Kenji asked.
"No, thank you," I said. "I'm fine."
He nodded. "Shall we begin then?" he asked me.
I took a notepad, a pen, and my recorder out of my bag. "Whenever you're ready."
"Great," he said, his expression shifting to an impassive mask.
I turned on the recorder. "Everybody in Japan loves you," I began, feeling the pressure of his gaze. "You've done something most people only dream of. You've become a real life superhero."
"Superhero?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Yes," I replied. "It is no secret that before they signed you, the Yomiuri Giants had a losing streak. They were on the verge of being demoted to the second division."
"Then you came along," I continued. "You helped them turn the tide and now the Giants are not only at the top of the league but they're also champions. You're their miracle player. How does this make you feel?"
"It makes me feel...good," he replied. "There weren't a lot of people who believed in me, so I'm glad that I've made them all proud. I've also gained a lot from the team. I think in sports, there's always something to learn and it doesn't matter who you're learning it from. My teammates and I have that sort of relationship, we learn from each other."
"That's wonderful," I said, taking out my pen and jotting down notes. "Was your relationship with them always like that?"
He laughed. "No," he said. "When I first joined the Giants, I was a bit..."
"co*cky?"
He tilted his head and smirked. "Is that what you thought of me, Ami?"
The sound of my name on his lips sent a thrill down my spine.
"That's what a lot of people thought. At your first press conference, the way you walked out on everyone and—"
"I'm asking about you," he said.
I blinked. "Me?"
He adjusted himself. Then he leaned toward me, so close that I could feel his breath on my neck. "Yeah, I want to know what you thought of me."
I swallowed. "Honestly, I thought you had a lot of potential, but I also thought you were purposefully holding yourself back. You won many awards but never a championship and I think there was a reason why."
His eyes traced my features, lingering on my lips. "Really?"
I nodded.
He chuckled and shifted back.
"I'm sorry if—"
"It's okay," he said. "That was true. Being a champion meant I would have to be a leader. I didn't like having that kind of pressure."
"What made you change your mind?"
"A lot of things," he said. "But the most important one was the team itself. They had all worked so hard. I couldn't repay them by not putting in my best too."
I nodded. That was exactly the kind of answer I had expected from him, but it wasn't the truth. Kenji Sato wore a mask. A carefully constructed persona designed to make him seem like the average, famous jock. It was a facade to hide his true nature and I wondered what lay underneath.
After the interview, Kenji asked if I wanted to see his home. I agreed.
"You live alone," I asked as we walked through the house.
"Yeah, I like my space," he chuckled. "My dad comes over often though."
"I assume your relationship with him is a lot better now."
He smiled fondly, his eyes glazing over. "It is. Things are good."
We continued to walk. Along the walls, discreet panels housed smart home controls, allowing Kenji to manage everything from lighting to temperature with a simple touch. A spiral staircase wound its way to the upper levels. The steps, made of glass and steel, seemed to float effortlessly.
"What's up there?" I asked, looking up at it.
"My room," he answered.
"Oh," my voice came out strained. I turned around and my breath hitched. I hadn't noticed how close we were to each other.
Kenji leaned in, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Do you want to see my room, Ami?"
I felt my face flush. "Do you always invite guests to your room? What would the tabloids say if they knew?" I teased, trying to diffuse the tension.
"They can think whatever they want," he said, his tone casual.
A small floating sphere flew down the stairs. It stopped right next to Kenji.
"Ken," Mina's voice sounded, echoing around us. "It's time to head down to the basem*nt."
"What's in the basem*nt?" I asked, without thinking.
I noticed it then. Kenji's body tensed, the muscles of his jaw flexing. He didn't lose the smile, didn't so much as falter, but something about him had changed. He was alert.
"The gym," he replied. "It's a really big space. It's where I work out and sometimes practice. You're welcome to join me, if you want to watch."
The suggestive tone was back.
I rolled my eyes. "Thank you for the tour, Ken," I said.
He grinned. "Anytime, Ami. Anytime," he said. "I'll see you out."
He led me back to the living room and then to the front door.
"Thank you for the opportunity to do this interview," I said, bowing my head slightly.
He stared at me for a moment and took a deep breath, licking his lips. My eyes followed the gesture. "Do you..." he paused. "Do you want to go out? This Friday?"
I blinked. "Out? As in a date?"
He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yes, a date. Off the record."
My chest constricted and my pulse quickened. "I don't think that would be a good idea," I said, my voice wavering.
He looked genuinely confused. "Why not?"
"It's not you," I assured him. "I'm sure lots of women would jump at the chance to go on a date with you. It's just...I don't think I want to go on dates, at this time, with anyone really."
"Oh," he said, his expression becoming guarded. "That's fine. I respect that."
I nodded, feeling awkward. "So if I have any follow-up questions, should I—"
"Ken," Mina's voice interrupted, urgent.
Kenji glanced inside. Then he turned back to me. "You can call me," he said. "You have my number, right?"
"Yeah."
He nodded, and smiled, then rushed back in. The door shut behind him.
I exhaled, my heart hammering. What the hell was that?
I looked up at the house. Kenji Sato lived alone, with no maids, no family. I remembered the way he reacted when Mina had spoken about the basem*nt and I thought about the urgency in her tone when she called for him. No workout session was that important.
He was hiding something.
