Page 5 of Kotori
The same words Hayashi used, but from his mouth they sound like a warning meant specifically for me.
He takes another step closer, and I have to fight the urge to step back. This close, I can see the fine details—the way his shirt collar is open just enough to reveal more of that black tattoo work, the gold watch on his wrist, the way his dark eyes seem to see straight through to thoughts I didn't know I was having.
"We'll discuss your role after you've settled in," he says, the pause making the words sound less professional and more possessive.
Accommodation. Not "position" or "duties." Like I'm something that needs to be managed, handled, made comfortable in a very specific way.
"Papa," Aya pipes up, completely oblivious to the tension in the room. "Paige-sensei is American! She's going to teach us to sound like movie stars!"
"Is she?" His eyes never leave mine, and I can feel heat creeping up my neck under his stare. "How generous of her to share her talents."
The way he says "talents" ignites heat in my cheeks. Like he's picturing abilities entirely unrelated to teaching English.
"Girls," he says, finally breaking eye contact to look at his daughters. "Continue with your morning lessons. I'll speak with Paige-san privately."
It's not a request. Mizuki-chan immediately opens a textbook. Kohana marks her place and sets her novel aside. Even little Aya settles into lesson mode with the instant obedience of children who know better than to argue with Daddy.
"This way," he says, gesturing toward the door.
I follow him into the hallway, unable to notice anything but the way his footsteps are perfectly controlled, the feeling of being escorted rather than simply walking together.
He opens a door to what appears to be a traditional study with floor cushions around a low table, shelves lined with books in Japanese, English, Mandarin, and Russian, and windows that look out over the misty gardens. Beautiful, serene, and completely cut off from the outside world.
"Please, sit," he says, settling onto a cushion with the kind of natural grace that makes me wonder what other physical skills he's mastered.
I kneel across from him, failing to match his posture. Up close, he consumes the space—his presence shrinking the room, making it smaller, more confined than it should be.
"Tell me about yourself, Paige-san," he says. "What brings you to Japan? To my family?"
The question seems innocuous enough, but something in his tone suggests he already knows the answer. Like this is a test I don't understand the parameters for.
"I needed a change," I say carefully. "A fresh start. Teaching English abroad seemed like a good opportunity."
"A fresh start," he repeats. "Running from something?"
My jaw tightens. "Not running. Moving forward."
His smile could cut glass. "Of course. And you chose my family specifically because...?"
"The agency sent me here," I state the obvious before blushing. "I mean, your daughters need an English tutor. I'm qualified to teach them." I meet his gaze steadily, refusing to be intimidated even though my pulse is doing weird things. "I'm very good at what I do."
"I'm certain you are." He leans forward, close enough that I smell his cologne—sandalwood and citrus that turns my thoughts foggy. "The question is whether what you do is what I need."
The words hang in the air between us, loaded with meaning I don't quite understand but feel in my bones.
Before I can ask what that means, he stands. "Mizuki will show you to your quarters. Dinner is at seven. You'll join us."
Another non-request. "Of course."
"Good." He moves toward the door, then pauses with his hand on the frame. "Oh, and Paige-san? My daughters have lost enough people they've grown attached to. I trust you won't give them any reason to experience that pain again."
The words are perfectly polite, but the threat underneath is crystal clear. Don't disappoint me. Don't hurt my children. Don't make me regret bringing you here.
Don't try to leave.
"I understand," I say.
"I hope you do."
