Chapter 2 - One chance

  Everyone gets one opening in their lives that can set their fate. You either take it with all you have… or watch it slip away into fragments of ideas.

  —

  The world seemed to pause for a breath. One day, you wake up thinking you’re stuck in this life forever. The next, you're staring at the one chance that could change it all. It doesn’t always come wrapped in gold — sometimes, you have to slither through a narrow door called opportunity, and Saki was staring at hers now.

  “Souta, you remember how you said people like us need to stick together? Well… now would be a good time to prove it.”

  Souta raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “What do you mean? Split the tips between us? Assuming he even gives one. Though I’ve heard Master Kuroda isn’t exactly a penny-pincher.”

  “No, no, that’s not what I meant. I need to meet him. All the VIP guests are in your section, so if — just once — I mean, if I can... you know, serve Master Kuroda drinks. Then—”

  Saying it out loud made Saki feel like a delusional fangirl. Watching Souta’s face shift didn’t help. She could see the judgment forming. If she tried explaining the real reason now, he’d think she’d completely lost it. Souta was the type who lived by the rules — or at least pretended to.

  “Ahem,” he coughed, stifling a grin. “Didn’t peg you for a Masters fan. Though I suppose anyone would be, considering how ethereal he looks.”

  “No, Souta, it’s not like—”

  “You don’t have to explain anything to me.” He shrugged. “People like us might never know people like them. But that doesn’t mean we can’t pour their drinks and get a little closer. Don’t worry —I’ll help you. After the welcome.”

  He smiled, and for once, it wasn’t sarcastic.

  A wave of relief — mixed with something sharp and thrilling — coursed through her. She didn’t know if it was the fear of facing him or the impossible hope of a new beginning. Maybe both. What’s the worst that could happen? She could lose her head. But on the other side... her Sobo would be proud.

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  From the front door, a wave of shrill excitement echoed through the walls. Straightening her uniform, she looked at Souta and said, “Let’s go.”

  —

  All employees and hosts were required to greet the elites of Makai-shi. The number of staff varied depending on the guest’s rank. But to welcome the Master of Makai-shi, everyone had to be outside — lined up in formation like soldiers before a king.

  Saki thought it was a bit of a circus. But today... she wouldn’t question it.

  The back door flung open, and the staff poured out to form a clean, straight line. Goro stood at the front, chest puffed, posture stiff. Across from them, a velvet rope marked the entrance, with security keeping guests and cameras at bay.

  Then came the car.

  A sleek black vehicle purred to a halt, headlights spilling across the pavement like molten light. A stout driver emerged, round-faced and waddling — his features oddly reminiscent of a tanuki. He shuffled to the passenger side and pulled the door open.

  Out stepped a man who didn’t just walk — he claimed the ground with every step.

  He wore black jeans that hugged his frame just enough to draw the eye and a simple black t-shirt that left very little to the imagination. A leather jacket hung unzipped from his shoulders, casual yet predatory. He looked completely unbothered, as if the world turned at his pace. He didn’t look around. He didn’t need to.

  His very presence whispered danger, power, and something deeper... something wild.

  As he approached, Goro bellowed, “Goro and the entire staff of Nova welcome you, Master.”

  In perfect sync, the staff bowed low.

  “Welcome to Nova, Master Kuroda!” they chorused.

  He lifted one hand in effortless dismissal, and without a word, passed by them and entered the club. Goro scrambled to follow, rattling off the night’s offerings.

  Souta exhaled. “Damn. That was an entrance. Are you ready?”

  Not even slightly.

  But she nodded.

  Souta handed her a tray holding the finest Hakanai Sake, the drink drawn from the dew of sakura trees that bloom only once every ten years.

  “You go first,” he said, adjusting the bottles. “I’ll follow with the snacks. You’ve got this.”

  —

  Her hands trembled slightly as she stepped onto the granite staircase. Enchanted fairy dust lit up beneath her feet — an opalescent glow with every step.

  At the top, the corridor stretched long and quiet. Two guards stood at the end, one on either side of a dark lacquered door. As she approached, they stepped aside wordlessly.

  Balancing the tray on one hand, she raised her knuckles and knocked once.

  A pause.

  Then a voice. Deep. Rich.

  “Come in.”

  She inhaled sharply.

  And opened the door.