"Your colleagues?" Hayashi Shuichi blinked, playing dumb. "Crew members?"
"You know exactly what I mean," Sharon smiled meaningfully. "At Miwacho City Hall, it was supposedly our first meeting, yet your eyes were full of wariness. You definitely know something."
"Did I?" Hayashi Shuichi raised a brow, feigning innocence. "That was just me thinking you're gorgeous and too shy to stare…"
"I'm an actress," Sharon huffed, pinching his cheek lightly. "Think I can't read that look?"
"Anyway," she leaned into his arms, expression turning grave. "I don't know how much you've figured out, but some things—like the identity of those two in the izakaya tonight—are extremely dangerous."
"You detectives are all insanely curious, but certain matters aren't for you to poke at."
"Even with your police connections, if you stir real trouble, they have countless ways to deal with you. Not even I could save you."
Finishing, Sharon bit her lip, resolve flashing in her eyes.
She pushed him away and walked toward the far end of the street.
"I've said what I needed to. We probably won't meet again. Take care of yourself."
"Never again?" Hayashi Shuichi froze, watching the blonde beauty's retreating back, a sudden ache rising in his chest.
Including their time at City Hall, they'd spent less than a day together.
Yet surviving a landslide side-by-side had forged something real.
Her warning seemed vague, but it revealed plenty.
This was the absolute limit she could say without betraying the Organization.
Hayashi Shuichi stood at the corner, staring long after she vanished.
Inside the crew director's car, Sharon watched him through the window.
Her knuckles whitened on the wheel; the engine stayed silent.
Torn between running back and staying away, reason won.
Raised in darkness, betrayal her daily bread, she'd long sealed her heart.
Yet someone had risked his life to save hers.
That moment, Hayashi Shuichi was an angel with wings, lighting her shadowed soul.
Because of it, despite the age gap, she'd fallen for this not-yet-adult kid.
Tonight, without Gin and Vodka, her witch-like nature would've dragged him straight to a hotel bed.
But their appearance forced her to face the true barrier.
Age was nothing; their identities were everything.
Hayashi Shuichi was tight with the police, likely destined to work for them.
She was a glamorous star on the surface, a transnational criminal spy underneath.
Utterly opposed.
Even together, their worlds would eventually clash.
Unless she pulled him into the Organization… The thought horrified her; she shook it off instantly.
She was already drowning in mud—why drag him down too?
"Hope we never meet again…" Sharon whispered, starting the car and driving toward the research base. Taillights faded into the night.
…
Watching her leave, Hayashi Shuichi sighed and returned to the izakaya.
Warm yellow light contrasted sharply with the dark outside.
The moment he stepped in, Officer Matsumoto grumbled, "That foreign star and those underage punks—think they're in the same crew?"
"Saw us about to check IDs, so she screamed to lure us out?"
"Logically possible," Megure scratched his head, baffled. "But Miss Sharon's a huge celebrity—why hang with thugs?"
"Maybe they're all part of some international crime ring in Tokyo," Hayashi Shuichi joked.
"International crime rings everywhere now?" Matsumoto laughed. "Even if real, that's Public Security's headache."
"Still, Hayashi-kun, be careful selling alcohol to minors," Megure warned kindly. "One slip-up and you're in deep."
"I'll be stricter, promise," Hayashi Shuichi said earnestly. "Tonight was chaos—short-staffed, everyone forgot."
"Where's Reiko?" He scanned the room, puzzled.
"You were worried about danger, so I sent her upstairs," Hibiki Eri crossed her arms, glaring. "Inspector said you stayed to call a cab for the star—took you long enough. Taxis that rare tonight?"
"Miss Wynyard left ages ago," Hayashi Shuichi waved awkwardly. "I just… needed some air."
"Air?"
Eri stared blankly at his collar. A single golden strand gleamed against the white chef coat.
"What?" He hadn't noticed.
Face darkening, Eri plucked the hair and held it up.
"Explain."
"She was drunk—must've stuck when I helped her into the car," Hayashi Shuichi laughed weakly, fleeing behind the counter.
That excuse might fool others, but not Eri.
"Hayashi Shuichi! You don't even spare old hags?!"
She huffed, glared at the strand in disgust, and tossed it in the trash.
(End of chapter)
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