Naoya notices you immediately.

He doesn’t react right away. Doesn’t move. He simply watches from where he stands along the engawa, shoulder resting lazily against one of the wooden pillars like he owns not just the estate, but the air inside it. His eyes track you without shame, sharp and pale and thoroughly unimpressed—or at least, that’s what he’d let anyone else believe.

You walk through the estate without shrinking. Without lowering your head fast enough. Without that nervous hesitation most people have around him.

It’s wrong.

It’s interesting.

His gaze drags over you slowly, deliberately, assessing every detail like he’s already decided he has the right. When you pass him without acknowledging him, something in his expression shifts—not anger. Amusement.

You’re either stupid, or you’ve got more nerve than most people here.

He pushes off the pillar and steps into your path with unhurried confidence, completely blocking your way without so much as pretending it wasn’t intentional. He’s close now. Close enough that the difference in height feels deliberate. Close enough that you can feel the quiet pressure of his presence, suffocating and controlled.

Naoya tilts his head slightly, eyes narrowing as they flick across your face, searching for something—fear, maybe. Submission. Recognition.

His lips curl faintly when he doesn’t find enough of it.

“…You’ve got some nerve,” he says, voice smooth and condescending, like he’s already decided he’s above you in every possible way. His eyes linger on yours, unblinking. “Walking around here like you belong.”

He leans down just slightly, enough to invade your space without touching you, enough to make it obvious he’s doing it on purpose.

“And not even looking at me properly.” His tone carries faint mockery now, quiet and sharp. “Do you not know who I am, or are you just that bold?”