Chiyo sits cross-legged, eyes shut as she tunes into the calming ambience of meditative music within the fitness centre. The pain in her palm stings still, but she pushes it to the back of her mind with silent mantraic recitals.

Sleep failed to be an option, so she had to utilise the time. Early mornings really are the only moments she gets to herself. To be alone with her thoughts.

Without ANY possible disruption.

Yousuke saunters into the room. The black tank top that he wears reveals the full sleeve of tattoos that paint his arms. Chiyo can now see the well defined muscles that ripple across his body, a body so fit that it could make any girl blush just from a single glance. And it is also the first time that Chiyo notices just how small she is in comparison to Yousuke’s robust, militarian build.

“Oh, you’re here, the stupid and funny girl” is the wonderful greeting chosen when he sees Chiyo meditating in the corner.

She ignores him, going to collect her stuff so that she can get the hell out of there. She’s not in the mood to deal with him today. Then again, she’s never really been in the mood to deal with him ever. The man really was really doing an excellent job at becoming the bane of her existence.

Where was her water bottle?

“Are you trying to find this?” Yousuke holds Chiyo’s bottle in his hand, waving it tauntingly in front of her face.

“Give it back” there’s a twinge of anger in her voice as she makes a swipe for it.

Yousuke raises the bottle up higher into the air. “Why should I?”

“It’s my stuff! You can’t just help yourself like that” Chiyo jumps, only to find the bottle impossibly out of reach.

Yousuke smirks, “Beat me and I’ll give it back to you.”

“How about you stop fucking around and just give it back to me.” She snaps back.

“But what’s the fun in that?”

“Maybe some of us just want to get on with our day?” Chiyo makes another grab for the bottle. Yousuke smiles at her feeble attempt to fight back. And to return the favour, he casually takes a step back, watching in amusement as she staggers onto the floor.

Rubbing her sore face, she opens her mouth to protest, but then realises that words wouldn’t do her much good in this situation anyways. He’s clearly enjoying the anger he elicits from her, a sadistic streak at his hands.

Yousuke squats down and looks at Chiyo, who’s very clearly in a lot of pain, with a smile.

He laughs, that irritable expression of mirth a little too evident on his face. “I really like that look. Seeing you suffer entertains me a lot.”

“Are you still a five year old child?”

Someone suddenly barges into the room, and she didn’t know she had welcomed such intrusion until now. Chiyo turns and almost cries out of relief upon seeing Kiara and her butler. Kiara however, doesn’t look pleased.

“What’s this?” Yousuke chuckles, his laughter low and cruel “I didn’t think that you’d still have legs to work out with.”

“Even if I can't,” Kiara narrows her eyes, “It would still be better than the ridiculous display you were showing. Do you not have an ounce of shame?”

“And what are you going to do about that? Lecture me?” His gaze, though lazy, is a poor disguise for the biting coldness from his glare “Or are you going to run and cry to the others?”

It seems his words were effective enough to offset one of them. The butler who steps forward is quickly stopped by Kiara.

“Kou, stop. Violence is forbidden here.” With a simple shake of her head, she swiftly turns back to Yousuke again. “I am not going to do any of that. Lecturing you will only be a waste of time. I’ll report this to Kaito and make sure he sets up appropriate measures to prevent you from hurting Chiyo.”

“Do whatever you want.” The room seems to have dropped a thousand degrees after that single comment, the pair glaring at each other like they’re seconds from ripping each other’s heads’ off.

Chiyo, who has not moved a single inch from her spot this whole time, stands there watching like she’s the side character of some telenovela. Only when Kiara’s attention shifts to her does she remember that she’s actually the main character of this one.

“Come with me Chiyo, I can’t trust to leave you here alone with him any longer.” The gentleness of which she looks at Chiyo is enough for her to falter. In a moment of weakness, she accepts the hand that’s offered to her. Their hands meld together perfectly; like every bone, muscle and ligament were shaped in the other’s image.

And Chiyo just feels like no matter where they go, wherever Kiara takes her, she’ll be okay.

——

Kiara’s room is luxurious, to say the least.

It resembles her, a spacious white-walled suite adorned with antique designs. Each luxurious item of furniture within the room is ornate by its own distinctive hand-drawn detail. Though the richly coloured gold leaf pattern seems to be a common running theme throughout. Her eyes land on the most monumental chandelier hanging over the king size canopy bed in the middle, ivory with a touch of lace draping the columns that mount the corners of the cushion. The walls nearest to the windows are lined with polished stone pedestals that carry various miniature marble structures. She feels like they all shared the same depiction of one woman, though Chiyo can’t quite put a finger to whom it might have been.

“Please, have a seat” Kiara gestures to one of the Baroque velvet armchairs that surround the coffee table. It made for a nice reading spot , Chiyo notes the marble fireplace built into the wall; watching the way the orange ember pirouette in a rhythmic dance, transforming the bed of wood into the most transient of beauty.

Though a bit stiff, she eventually manages to settle into a fairly comfortable position on the chaise, watching as Kiara rolls out from the bathroom with a medical kit in her lap.

Wait, a medical kit?

The box is set down with a clink on the glass surface. Kiara begins to unravel the contents inside, arranging them neatly onto the table like she’s preparing to perform surgery. Their eyes lock when Chiyo is still entranced by the grace and methodology of her work.

“May I?” Kiara smiles, gesturing towards the hand in Chiyo’s lap.

Sitting opposite of one another with their knees barely brushing; they were close, close enough to touch. Yet Kiara makes no move to initiate it. She’s patient with Chiyo, a breath of fresh air compared to the whirlwind that are the other six. Well maybe with the exception of Kaito, she groans mentally, who was stressful in his own way. A silent nod is enough permission for Kiara to envelop Chiyo’s hand with her own. Chiyo’s heart flutters upon contact, something comforting in the way Kiara handles her.

“Was this also Yousuke’s doing?”

Kiara’s expression, something that she’s picked up on from their few shared interactions, never seems to border on anger. Yet for the first time, Chiyo’s attention is drawn to the bitterness that swept her features. A frown flickers across her forehead as she turns Chiyo’s hand over to inspect the wound.

“No, it’s…” is what she starts with but the longer she draws on it, the further she loses track.

Kiara’s gaze flicks towards Chiyo, her fingers featherlight over the shallow cut on her palm and she flinches. It takes Chiyo a moment to remember how her voice works, what she’s supposed to do for something, anything to come out.

“It’s not what you think it is. It was just an accident” The silence is deafening, and she finds herself wishing against her better judgement that that wasn’t the case. While Chiyo fumbles for the words, searching for a way to laugh this whole thing off, a thumb brushes over her cheek.

Her visage, now reflected in the pool of Kiara’s crystal clear eyes, was beyond recognisable. Shaken, lost and maybe even confused. It made her wonder, had she always looked like this?

“It’s okay,” There is a sweet sense of nurture in the way the pad of Kiara’s thumb presses gentle petals like kisses on her skin “I can sense your discomfort towards the subject, and it wouldn’t be right of me to pry.”

The endearment in Kiara’s voice is something that Chiyo still couldn’t find herself getting used to no matter how many times she’s heard it. But it makes her soft, makes her vulnerable against her whims and ways. It makes her scared. And she isn’t sure if the fear is more directed at them or herself. Uneasiness pitches itself in her stomach and she recoils from Kiara’s touch.

As if sensing something, Kiara retracts, drawing back into the upright posture within her wheelchair. Eyes still locked up on Chiyo’s, she begins to slowly breathe in through her nose, then exhale through the mouth. Kiara lifts a hand and gestures for her to do the same. They repeat the process a few times, each breath coming easier than the last. And it takes a moment, but her mind finally stills.

“Feeling better?” Kiara smiles and Chiyo can only nod in response “If you ever feel suffocated like this again, just repeat the same exercise, okay? It’ll help clear your mind.”

Kiara quickly finishes up the bandaging job. And though the end product isn’t the best, it’s the thought that sets something in her aflutter.

“Even if you think it’s trivial, don’t ever feel troubled to come to me if something’s wrong”

The wide-eyed expression that claims Chiyo’s features only seems to excite a soft chuckle from the smaller girl. But it’s the way Kiara’s lips rests delicately against her bandaged palm that brings her to absolute ruin.

“And don’t worry” Kiara’s smile only seems to spread as she presses Chiyo’s palm against her cheek “I would have done this regardless of my intentions.”

——