Chapter 15
Rei Kurosaki
I heard a noise outside my window. But when I went to check, no one was there. When my eyes dropped to the wide stone windowsill, I saw it.
A single flower.
A Phantom Orchid. I knew what it was the moment I saw it. And I knew exactly who had left it.
Dimitri.
No one else would come here in the middle of the night.
My chest tightened as I carefully opened the window and picked up the flower. The petals were soft against my fingers. I brought it to my chest without thinking. A smile tugged at my lips.
When I woke up the next morning and went out of my room, I could hear my mother’s voice from the living room. Daniel’s too.
Perfect.
I walked in anyway, keeping my expression neutral. Mom was curled on the couch in one of her expensive silk robes. Daniel sat beside her, legs crossed like he owned the place. Which, in his mind, he probably did.
“Rei, sweetheart,” Mom said, smiling too brightly. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine,” I answered, heading straight for the kitchen. I needed water. Or maybe something stronger, but I was not stupid enough to drink in front of them.
Daniel’s eyes followed me. “You look tired. Did you sleep bad?”
I braced myself for him to bring up the video. I knew he kept tabs on what happened at school. He always had. Whether it was through the principal, other parents, or whatever connections he had, he usually found out about everything. But he did not say a word. Dimitri had kept his word.
I poured a glass of water and took a sip before answering. “Something like that.”
He chuckled, that polished, condescending sound I hated. “You know, if you spent less time with that scholarship kid Marco, and more time networking with the right families, you might feel less tense and get into less trouble. You’re lucky the principal changed his mind last minute.”
My grip tightened on the glass. I kept my voice even. “Don’t put his name in your mouth.”
Mom sighed softly, like I was being difficult on purpose. “Rei, Daniel’s just trying to help. We want what’s best for you.”
I set the glass down harder than I meant to. “Best for me? Or best for the family image?”
Daniel’s eyes cooled. “Watch your tone, son.”
“I’m not your son.”
Mom’s face fell. “Rei. That was uncalled for.”
“He’s not my father,” I said. “He never will be. Stop pretending he is.”
Daniel stood up. He was taller than me. I wished he would drop dead. “I know you miss your dad, but—”
“Don’t you dare talk about my dad.”
My voice cracked on the last word.
“Rei, enough,” my mom said, standing too. “You’re being disrespectful.”
“Well, I’m sorry. I watched my father die protecting me. I moved across the world with a mother who remarried six months later like he never existed. And now I have to watch you play house while pretending he’s some kind of father figure. Forgive me if I’m not respectful.”
Mom’s eyes filled with tears. Real ones this time. “Rei… please.”
She was still pitiful, but all I could see was the woman who had packed our lives into suitcases and shipped them here like my father’s memory could be left behind in Tokyo.
“I miss him,” I said. “Every single day. And being here with the two of you just makes it worse.”
Mom wiped her eyes quickly, trying to compose herself. “We’ll talk about this when you’ve calmed down.”
I did not argue. My chest felt too tight, throat burning for reasons that had nothing to do with Dimitri anymore.
I turned and walked down the long hallway to my bedroom. I leaned back against the door and slid down until I was sitting on the floor. My hands came up to cover my face. The first sob tore out of me before I could stop it.
I missed my dad so much it physically hurt. I missed the mornings in Tokyo, the way he would ruffle my hair and call me his little samurai even when I was too old for it. I missed the smell of his cologne and the sound of his laugh. I missed feeling safe.
Here, I did not feel safe.
I hated Daniel for being here. I hated my mother for letting him be here. I hated this expensive building that would never feel like home.
And I hated how much space Dimitri Morozov was taking up in my head.
I did not want to go to school.
I showered quickly, pulled on a black hoodie and jeans, and clipped a small flower into my hair. Then I grabbed my phone, ignored the three missed calls from Marco, and slipped out of the house.
There was a small public garden a few blocks from the building. I had found it weeks ago when I needed air. No one really came here. I found a quiet corner near a patch of late roses and dark purple dahlias. I knelt down in the grass, not caring if my jeans got dirty, and started picking.
I did not have a plan. I just needed something to do with my hands. I chose the ones that looked the strongest, the ones that had not been stepped on or rained on too much. A small bouquet started forming in my lap. I was there a long time.
Then I heard footsteps on the path behind me, and I knew exactly who it was before I even turned.
Dimitri Morozov stopped a few feet away, watching me with those blue eyes. I kept picking flowers because I did not have the energy to snap at him.
“Why aren’t you at school?” he asked.
I shrugged, not looking up. My fingers brushed another stem. “Didn’t want to.”
Dimitri was quiet for a moment. I could feel him studying me. He moved closer and crouched down beside me in the grass. “You look like you didn’t sleep.”
“I slept,” I said, still not looking at him. I picked another dahlia and added it to the bunch in my lap. “Just… not well.”
He reached out and took one of the flowers I had already picked, a dark red rose that had started to open. He twirled it between his fingers. “You come here to pick flowers when you’re having a bad day?” he asked.
I nodded once. “It’s quiet. No one bothers me here.”
“Until today,” he said.
I finally glanced at him. He was watching the rose in his hand like it was something important, not just a flower I had yanked out of the dirt. The morning light caught on his face and made his eyes look less arctic and more… human.
It was disarming.
“Yeah,” I said quietly. “Until today.”
Dimitri set the rose down on the grass between us instead of giving it back.
Then he reached over and picked another one himself, a deep purple dahlia, and added it carefully to the small pile I was making.
His movements were surprisingly careful for someone who had had me on my knees with a gun in my mouth less than a month ago.
“What happened? Are you still scared to come because of the video?” he asked hesitantly. I did not know if my head was making things up, but I could swear he was struggling to speak to me right now.
I hesitated, fingers stilling on a stem. Part of me wanted to tell him to fuck off and leave me alone like I always did. But I was too drained, and he seemed soft. Which was a crazy thing to associate with Dimitri.
“No. Family stuff,” I said eventually.
Dimitri did not ask anything else.
After a few minutes he spoke again. “You know, when I was a kid, my mother used to have this huge garden behind our house in Russia. She’d spend hours out there. Said flowers made the world feel less ugly. I used to think it was stupid. Now I get it.”
I looked at him properly then. There was something distant in his eyes, like he was remembering something he did not talk about often.
I swallowed and went back to picking. “My dad used to take me to gardens in Tokyo. He’d let me pick whatever I wanted and carry the bouquet home for my mom. Even when he was busy.”
Dimitri did not comment on it. He just reached over and gently took the small bouquet from my hands, arranging the flowers I had picked. When he was done, he held it out to me.
“Here. Looks better this way.”
Our fingers brushed again when I took it back.
“Thanks,” I said quietly.
He nodded, then stood up slowly and offered me his hand. I stared at it for a second before taking it.