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Kento steps closer behind me, and before I can brace properly, his hand settles at my waist.

Warm and annoyingly careful. I think that’s what unsettles me most. Kento is a man infamous for reducing people to broken bones with his bare hands, yet every time those same hands find me, they move with restraint, as if I’m something catastrophically fragile.

I stiffen. “You touch too much.”

“I love touching you.”

I roll my eyes and step just slightly out of his reach, pretending the movement is casual and not because my body is still way too aware of him. “Where’s the bathroom?”

He points down the hall. “Second door on the left.”

I nod and head off immediately, mostly because I need thirty seconds alone to reconsider every life choice that got me here.

The bathroom is, surprise, also black.

Black tiles. Black sink. Black towels. Black fucking soap dispenser.

I splash cold water over my face and brace both hands against the sink. My heart won’t slow down. It keeps throwing itself against my ribs like it’s trying to escape before I make another stupid decision. I stare at my reflection and wonder what the fuck I’m even doing here.

I sigh, and by the time I step back out into the hallway, I see it.

A huge spider.

On the floor.

Crawling.

Moving.

Existing.

I freeze.

No.

No, no, no, no, no.

A sound tears out of me before I can stop it, high, absolutely undignified.

Within one second I’m on a shelf like a cat in a cartoon, knees up, and with my heart trying to exit through my teeth.

The spider keeps walking, and I scream again. Louder, until Kento appears in the hallway.

“What’s wrong?”

I point. My finger shakes so hard it’s barely a direction.

“W—w—wh—” My lungs have quit. They’ve unionized. “Wh-what is th-that?”

He looks at the floor. “Oh.” He bends down. Picks it up. Picks it up. With his bare hand. Like it’s a grape.

He turns toward me, spider occupying his palm. “This? My pet.”

I make a noise that isn’t language.

“K—k—k—” I’m hyperventilating on a shelf in a black apartment with a man who keeps livestock from hell. “K-kill—kill it—Kento—K-Kento, get it—get it out—”

“You’re scared.” He says it like he’s found treasure.