One number Two faces
367 Words
Kaito tilted his head slightly, gaze unreadable. The tension between them crackled like static. Lena could tell he was studying her every twitch, every breath, every carefully measured pause.
But before he could dig deeper, she broke the moment with a sudden, melodious laugh.
It caught him off guard.
“Relax,” she said, twirling the straw in her glass. “I’m joking.”
Kaito’s expression didn’t change, but she could see the flicker in his eyes—he didn’t believe her. Not completely.
“Really?” he asked slowly, his voice even.
She leaned closer, her smile playful now, deliberately masking the storm in her chest. “You looked like you were about to interrogate me. That intense stare? It’s dangerous for a girl like me.”
Kaito’s lips curved into a faint smirk. “You don’t strike me as the type who scares easily.”
She shrugged. “Maybe I just enjoy the thrill.”
Another silence stretched. But this time it was warmer. Teasing.
Then he asked, casually but intentionally, “Can I have your number?”
Lena blinked once, her heart skipping. Too fast. Too bold. But she didn’t let it show.
She reached into her clutch and scribbled on a napkin.
A number—hers, technically. Just not the one he knew. A burner line she used for online orders, reservations, and now, apparently, secret seductions.
He took the napkin and pocketed it.
“Mina,” he repeated, testing the name. “I’ll be in touch.”
Lena smiled. “I’ll be waiting.”
Then she stood, winked, and disappeared into the crowd.
---
As she slipped into the back alley and changed into her “blind girl” look again—black glasses, limp cane, conservative clothes—her heart raced.
He believed it. Or at least… part of him did.
But as she walked into the night, she didn’t see the figure still watching her from the shadows.
Kaito.
One hand in his coat pocket.
Expression unreadable.
And in his other hand?
A crumpled photo from his father’s drawer… a photo of a little girl from long ago.
“Lena Takashi.”
He narrowed his eyes.
Something wasn’t adding up.
- Writer
