EPISODE 2

The university veterinary hospital was a sleek, modern facility located on the edge of the campus. By 6:00 PM, the sun had begun to set, painting the sky in deep shades of orange and purple. Inside, the clinic was quiet, bathed in white fluorescent light and smelling strongly of antiseptic and rubbing alcohol.

Takeru was in the back prep room, wearing his light blue scrubs, carefully organizing bottles of antibiotics and sterile bandaging supplies on a stainless steel cart. The rhythmic work helped calm his frayed nerves.

'He's gone', Takeru kept repeating like a mantra in his head. 'The white-haired guy is gone. He probably had his henchmen pick him up hours ago. He doesn't care about some random vet student. He was just passing through.'

"Takeru-kun," Dr. Yamamori, a kindly, middle-aged head vet, pushed open the swing doors of the prep room. "Could you come out to the main reception area for a moment?"

"Sure, Doctor," Takeru said, setting down a roll of medical tape. "Did a patient arrive?"

"Ah, not exactly a regular patient," Dr. Yamamori said, tilting his head with a somewhat bewildered expression. "A very high-profile donor just dropped by unannounced. He says he wants to personally inspect our emergency care facilities before finalizing a major endowment for the hospital."

"Oh. Wow," Takeru said, wiping his hands on a towel. "Should I go fetch the department dean?"

"The dean is on his way, but the donor specifically asked to see the surgical prep staff," Dr. Yamamori explained, waving Takeru forward. "Come on, let's go greet him. Be on your best behavior."

Takeru untied his plastic apron, smoothed down his scrubs, and followed Dr. Yamamori down the brightly lit corridor toward the main lobby.

The glass double doors of the reception area were open, letting in the cool evening breeze. Standing in the center of the pristine, white-tiled lobby were three men. Two of them were towering figures dressed in sharp, dark charcoal suits, standing at rigid attention near the entrance with sunglasses on despite the sun having already set—looking every bit like elite bodyguards.

And standing between them, leaning casually against the reception counter while holding a sleek leather folder, was a tall man with unmistakable, stark white silver hair.

Wait. Wait a minute...! Hold on. WHAT?!

Takeru stopped dead in his tracks.

That white silver-haired man was no longer wearing the blood-soaked rags from last night. He was dressed in a tailored, charcoal-grey three-piece suit that fit his broad shoulders and narrow waist perfectly. His hair was impeccably styled, though a few sharp white strands fell loosely over his forehead. A subtle, elegant bandage was hidden beneath the high collar of his crisp white dress shirt.

He looked like a billionaire CEO straight out of a finance magazine.

As the glass doors hissed shut behind Dr. Yamamori and Takeru, the white-haired man turned around slowly. His icy blue eyes swept across the lobby, bypassing Dr. Yamamori entirely, and locked directly onto Takeru.

A slow, razor-thin smile spread across his handsome face.

"Ah," the man spoke, his deep, velvety voice echoing off the sterile tiles of the clinic. "You must be the head doctor."

"Yes! Welcome to our facility, Mr. Kurogane," Dr. Yamamori bowed respectfully, walking forward with an outstretched hand. "We are deeply honored by your unexpected visit. I was told you wanted to review our surgical prep standards?"

"Indeed," the man—Mr. Kurogane—said, stepping forward and shaking Dr. Yamamori's hand with smooth, effortless diplomacy. But his eyes never left Takeru, who was currently frozen to the floorboards like a deer caught in high-beam headlights.

"I take a very...personal interest in medical skill," Kurogane continued, his smile sharpening just a fraction as his piercing blue gaze dragged over Takeru's blue scrubs. "In fact, I recently had the pleasure of experiencing some very...unconventional triage work performed by one of your staff."

Dr. Yamamori looked confused. "Unconventional? I'm not sure I follow..."

Kurogane stepped around the doctor, his long, slow strides carrying him straight toward Takeru. The two bodyguards at the door didn't move an inch, blocking the only exit out of the lobby.

Takeru felt his breath hitch in his throat. He wanted to run, to scream, to grab the nearest bottle of surgical disinfectant and hurl it at the man's face. But his feet were glued to the floor.

Kurogane stopped mere inches from Takeru. He was so tall that Takeru had to tilt his head up just to look him in the eye. Up close, Takeru could smell the subtle scent of expensive cologne, completely masking any trace of the blood and rain from the night before.

Kurogane leaned down slightly, bringing his face close to Takeru's ear.

"You hit quite hard for a little vet student, Fuzuki Takeru," Kurogane whispered, his voice so low and smooth that only Takeru could hear it. "My ribs are still burning from your stitching...and a few other places are still sore from your goodbye kick."

Takeru squeezed his eyes shut for a brief second, his hands clenching into tight fists at his sides. "What are you doing here?" Takeru hissed under his breath, keeping his voice strictly between them. "I locked the door! How did you even find me?!"

Kurogane pulled back slightly, his icy eyes dancing with dark, dangerous amusement.

"You left your student ID badge on the kitchen counter next to your flower vase," Kurogane murmured, his grin widening as he pulled a small, laminated card from his inner suit pocket and casually flashed it between two fingers.

Takeru’s stomach dropped into a bottomless pit. The ID badge. He had left his university lanyard on the counter when he cleared out his bag yesterday! How can he forgot that!

"Is everything alright, Takeru-kun?" Dr. Yamamori asked, looking back and forth between the frozen student and the wealthy donor with a puzzled expression. "Do you two know each other?"

Kurogane slid the ID badge back into his suit coat and straightened up to his full, imposing height. He placed a heavy, warm hand firmly onto Takeru’s shoulder—a grip that felt less like a friendly gesture and more like an iron shackle.

"Know each other?" Kurogane said smoothly, looking at Dr. Yamamori with an expression of polished charm. "You could say that. This bright young man saved my life last night. In fact, I was so impressed by his...dedication... that I've decided to make a substantial private endowment directly to his research."

Dr. Yamamori’s eyes lit up. "A private endowment?! Takeru-kun, that's incredible! Why didn't you tell me you knew Mr. Kurogane?!"

Takeru opened his mouth to scream 'HE'S A MAFIA BOSS WHO POINTED A GUN AT MY HEAD AND TRIED TO TOUCH ME ON MY LIVING ROOM FLOOR', but the firm pressure of Kurogane's hand on his shoulder tightened just enough to deliver a clear, silent warning.

"He's very modest," Kurogane added, his thumb lightly stroking the fabric of Takeru’s scrubs right near his neck. "Now, Doctor...if you don't mind, I’d like to take my new personal assistant out for a brief private discussion regarding the terms of his sponsorship."

"Of course! Take all the time you need!" Dr. Yamamori beamed, completely oblivious to the silent, high-stakes hostage situation happening right in front of him. "Takeru-kun, take the rest of the evening off!"

"Wait, Doctor, no—!" Takeru started, but Kurogane’s arm was already sliding around Takeru’s waist, steering him forcibly but smoothly toward the glass exit doors.

"Come along, baby," Kurogane purred in his ear, his voice dripping with triumphant satisfaction as the bodyguards opened the heavy doors for them. "We have a lot to catch up on. And this time...there are no vases for you to throw."

Takeru looked out at the sleek, black luxury sedan idling at the curb, its tinted windows gleaming in the streetlights, and he realized with absolute, horrifying clarity:

His life as a normal veterinary student was officially over...

FUCK HIS LIFE!

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