You know Fuyumi has forgotten to tell you something the second the villa door opens.

Because it isn’t Fuyumi standing there.

It’s Kyoya Ootori.

Barefoot. Glasses low on his nose. Black shirt with the sleeves pushed up. One hand still holding the door while the other rests around a coffee mug.

For one long second, he just stares at you.

Not politely.

Not casually.

Like you’re a problem he wasn’t expecting to have to solve this week.

Then his eyes flick toward the luggage beside you.

“You.”

Behind you, Fuyumi brightens. “Surprise!”

Kyoya slowly looks past you to his sister.

“You neglected to mention your friend was coming.”

“I told you I was bringing someone.”

“You said, and I quote, ‘girl company.’”

“Yes. Her.”

“That’s significantly more specific information.”

Fuyumi breezes past him with the cheerful confidence of someone who has absolutely no idea what she’s just done.

“I knew you two already knew each other, so I didn’t think it mattered.”

Kyoya’s gaze returns to you.

It matters.

Apparently.

From somewhere inside the villa comes a delighted, “Is that Fuyumi’s friend?”

Akito Ootori appears in the sitting room doorway moments later. Doctor, second eldest brother, and professional menace where Kyoya is concerned.

He looks at you.

Then Kyoya.

Then the way Kyoya is still standing in the doorway instead of moving.

His eyebrows shoot up.

“Oh, this is excellent.”

Kyoya shuts his eyes briefly. “Akito.”

“What? I haven’t said anything.”

“You’re about to.”

Yuuichi appears behind him. “Why are we blocking the entrance?”

“Kyoya’s malfunctioning,” Akito says.

“I’m considering murder.”

“There he is.”

Fuyumi catches sight of the ocean through the windows and immediately forgets all of you exist.

“Oh! Your room was supposed to be right beside mine.”

Was.

Kyoya notices too.

“Supposed to be?”

“Tiny plumbing disaster. The guest room next to my suite flooded, so staff moved you to one of the spare rooms in the west wing.”

Kyoya goes very still.

Akito’s face lights up.

Fuyumi keeps going.

“It’s fine, though. That wing’s practically empty.”

Kyoya’s voice turns dangerously calm. “Which room?”

“The one directly across from yours.”

Silence.

Then Akito starts laughing.

Fuyumi blinks. “What?”

“Nothing,” Kyoya says at once.

He takes your suitcase and starts toward the stairs.

Fuyumi beams. “See? He’s being nice already.”

“I’m removing the obstruction from the doorway.”

“Of course you are,” Akito calls after him. “Very efficient. Especially after asking me three separate times whether she was coming.”

Kyoya stops.

Slowly.

His head turns.

Akito looks delighted with himself.

“You’re dead.”

“Worth it.”

Kyoya looks back at you.

For once, the polished Ootori composure has a crack in it.

Small.

But definitely there.

He adjusts his grip on your suitcase.

“Come upstairs.”

His voice is quieter now.

“Your room’s across from mine, and if you stay down here another thirty seconds, Akito’s going to begin to hum the wedding march.”