“I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”

The weight of those words lingered in his chest, pressing down in a way he couldn’t explain. He sighed and turned toward his house—only to stop in his tracks.

Elian was sitting on the porch.

His long legs were crossed lazily, an arm resting on his knee, but his emerald-green eyes sharpened the moment he saw Taro.

Taro blinked. “You’re… still here?”

Elian raised a brow. “What, am I not allowed to visit my dear friend?”

Taro sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s late. Thought you’d be at your uncle’s.”

Elian shrugged. “I was. Then I thought, ‘Taro’s got his first week at headquarters, he must be exhausted. Maybe I should check in and see if he’s alive.’” His gaze flicked toward the black car still parked behind Taro. “Didn’t expect you to arrive in that, though.”

Taro followed his gaze, his body tensing. He turned back quickly. “It’s… my boss’s car. He offered me a ride.”

Elian tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “That so?”

There was something unreadable in his expression. Not quite suspicion—more like curiosity.

Taro forced a chuckle. “Yeah. He took me to dinner. It was just… business stuff.”

Elian hummed. He didn’t move, still watching Taro with those unnervingly perceptive eyes.

Taro felt the need to fill the silence. “I mean, I guess it’s a good thing, right? I got this opportunity, and he’s just… looking out for me. Giving me advice.”

Something flickered in Elian’s gaze.

“Advice?” he repeated.

Taro nodded. “Yeah. Like how people only grow when given chances, and that I need to prove I deserve this.”

Elian’s lips parted slightly, his brows drawing together—but just as quickly, he smoothed his expression. “He said that?”

Taro nodded again, suddenly feeling exposed. “What? Does that sound weird?”

Elian leaned back on his hands, looking up at the night sky. “No. Just sounds like something a businessman would say to someone he wants to control.”

Taro frowned. “It’s not like that.”

Elian glanced at him, his voice lighter now. “Mm. If you say so.”

Taro exhaled, feeling oddly defensive. “He’s helping me, Elian. Not everyone has some hidden motive.”

Elian smirked, standing up and stretching. “If you believe that, then okay.” He patted Taro’s shoulder as he passed by, heading toward the door. “But you are my dear friend, and if you ever feel like something’s wrong, you know I’ll be here, right?”

Taro hesitated.

Something about the way Elian said that made his stomach twist.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “I know.”

As they stepped inside, Elian threw one last glance over his shoulder—toward the car that still hadn’t driven away.

And inside it, Rylan sat, watching them.

Smirking.

Unspoken Tension

As Taro and Elian stepped inside, the heavy air of the night lingered between them. Taro kicked off his shoes, stretching his sore shoulders, while Elian casually leaned against the wall, watching him.

Outside, the sound of the luxury car’s engine hummed to life.

Elian didn’t move until the car disappeared down the street. His gaze lingered on the door for a second longer before shifting back to Taro.

“So,” Elian finally said, crossing his arms. “Dinner with the boss, huh?”

Taro sighed, already exhausted from the conversation before it even started. “I told you, it was just business.”

Elian hummed. “I didn’t say anything.”

Taro gave him a look. “You’re thinking something.”

Elian smirked. “Maybe.” He pushed off the wall and stepped toward Taro, tilting his head slightly. “You seem… different.”

Taro frowned. “Different how?”

Elian tapped his own temple. “Like something’s rewiring in there.”

Taro groaned, rubbing his face. “You’re overthinking it. He’s my boss. He sees potential in me. What’s wrong with that?”

Elian’s eyes didn’t waver. “Nothing. Unless it stops being your potential and starts being his.”

Taro huffed. “Not everything is bad, Elian.”

Elian’s smirk softened slightly, just enough to make Taro’s irritation waver. “I never said it was.” He reached out and flicked Taro’s forehead lightly, making him flinch. “But you trust people too easily.”

Taro grumbled, stepping back. “Not everyone is out to get me.”

Elian shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.” He stretched his arms, yawning. “Anyway, I’m starving. Did you bring me leftovers, or am I going to have to raid your kitchen?”

Taro blinked at the sudden shift. “What—? No, I didn’t bring leftovers.”

Elian gasped dramatically. “Wow. So you had some fancy meal while I was waiting here, hungry and abandoned?”

Taro rolled his eyes. “You chose to wait.”

Elian sighed, shaking his head. “I expected better from you.”

Taro couldn’t help but chuckle. “Fine, fine. I’ll make something quick.”

Elian grinned. “Now that’s the childhood friend I know.”

As Taro moved to the kitchen, Elian leaned against the counter, watching him with a more thoughtful expression. He wouldn’t press further—not yet.

But something about this whole thing felt off.

And if there was one thing Elian hated, it was when people tried to steal something that belonged to him.

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