#company identity package

[inbrandso]

Branding and designs agency -

We are an Interdisciplinary Design Consultancy offering holistic and integrated solutions, for strong and Sustainable Brand Building. Our focus is to translate our client’s business objectives into effective and future ready design solutions that meet critical scalability requirements.

With over 34 years of rich experience and diverse domain expertise, we collaborate with businesses large and small, to create powerful experiences across platforms.

[egberts]

companies are delusional if they think consumers don't notice shrinkflation. less food in the package, less medicine in the jar, less whatever in the wherever, it doesn't matter where and it's almost always noticeable. like i just finished one box of medicine and we opened another allegedly identical one that we just bought and lo and behold, the four middle medicine segments were gone from the package. they took out four pills from the same sized box and sold it at the same price without any indication on the box other than the small number in the corner. ridiculous

[innovative-graphics]

Packaging Design in Mumbai

Effective packaging design can significantly boost your sales and elevate your business prospects in Mumbai's dynamic market. Why partner with us? Our commitment to personalized service ensures a standout design that helps your brand shine in Mumbai and beyond.

[brandingagency2024]

The Role of Branding Agencies and Packaging Design Companies in India's Growing Market

In today's competitive marketplace, branding has become a crucial element for any business seeking long-term success. Whether it's a startup or a well-established brand, the right branding strategy can make all the difference. India, with its rapidly expanding economy and diverse consumer base, presents unique opportunities for businesses. Among the essential contributors to a brand's success are branding agencies and packaging design companies in India. These entities help brands create a lasting impression and drive customer loyalty, influencing everything from the logo to the product's visual identity on the shelves.

The Importance of Branding Agencies

A branding agency plays a key role in building a brand’s identity. These agencies specialize in creating a cohesive brand strategy that resonates with the target audience. In the Indian context, where cultural diversity and regional preferences significantly influence consumer behavior, a deep understanding of the market is essential.

Branding agencies in India assist businesses by:

Developing brand identity: This includes everything from designing logos, selecting color schemes, and crafting brand messages that communicate the company’s ethos.

Brand positioning: Agencies help businesses find a niche within the market, creating a unique value proposition to stand out amidst fierce competition.

Consistency across platforms: In the digital age, a brand’s presence on social media, websites, and traditional advertising must be consistent. Branding agencies ensure this coherence, which is critical for trust-building.

Several branding agencies in India, such as DY Works, Elephant Design, and Landor, are known for their exceptional work in building robust brand identities for both local and international clients. They offer end-to-end services that include brand research, creative design, and marketing strategies.

The Role of Packaging Design Companies in India

In a country as vast and varied as India, packaging plays a pivotal role in attracting and retaining customers. The way a product is packaged can influence buying decisions, especially in fast-moving consumer goods (FMCG) sectors like food, cosmetics, and personal care.

Packaging design companies in India

offer specialized services to ensure that products not only stand out but also appeal to the cultural and regional nuances of Indian consumers. These companies understand that packaging is more than just a protective covering for a product; it is a tool for storytelling and brand differentiation.

Some of the key services offered by packaging design companies include:

Designing visually appealing packaging: Creative, eye-catching packaging can drive impulse purchases, especially in retail environments.

Sustainability-focused design: As consumers in India become more eco-conscious, packaging design companies are focusing on sustainable solutions, such as biodegradable materials and eco-friendly packaging methods.

Regulatory compliance: Packaging in India must meet specific legal standards, including labeling and safety guidelines. Professional design firms ensure compliance with all necessary regulations.

Leading packaging design companies in India, such as Design Bridge, Pentagram, and Bizongo, work closely with brands to create packaging that not only represents the product but also enhances its market appeal.

The Synergy between Branding and Packaging Design

A successful brand strategy combines strong branding with effective packaging design. While branding agencies focus on the overall identity and positioning of a brand, packaging design companies make sure that this identity is effectively communicated at the point of sale.

For instance, a premium chocolate brand in India may work with a branding agency to develop its upscale image and then partner with a packaging design company to create luxurious, eco-friendly packaging that reflects its brand values. This synergy ensures that the customer experience—from initial awareness to the final purchase—is seamless and impactful.

Conclusion

As the Indian market continues to evolve, businesses are recognizing the importance of professional branding and packaging. Collaborating with the right branding agency and packaging design company can elevate a product’s visibility, enhance brand loyalty, and ultimately drive sales. By investing in these services, brands can not only meet but exceed consumer expectations, ensuring long-term growth and success in one of the world's most dynamic markets.

[orianaadecopack]

The Crucial Role of Branding: Choosing the Right Sticker Label Manufacturer

In today's competitive marketplace, effective branding plays a pivotal role in setting businesses apart from the crowd. From enhancing product visibility to communicating brand values, every aspect of branding matters. One often overlooked aspect is the role of Sticker Labels. In this blog, we delve into the importance of branding and the significance of choosing the right sticker label manufacturer for your business needs.

Importance of Branding

Branding extends far beyond mere logos or catchy slogans; it encapsulates the entirety of the customer experience and shapes their perception of your business. A strong brand creates trust, fosters loyalty, and drives purchasing decisions. It differentiates your products from competitors and establishes an emotional connection with consumers.

The Power of Sticker Labels

Sticker labels may seem like a small component of branding, but they carry significant weight in the consumer's decision-making process. They serve as the first point of contact between your product and potential customers, influencing their perception and purchase behavior. High-quality, visually appealing sticker labels can instantly grab attention, communicate product information, and reinforce brand identity.

Choosing the Right Sticker Label Manufacturer

Selecting the right sticker label manufacturer is crucial for ensuring the success of your branding efforts. Here's why:

Expertise and Innovation

A reputable sticker label manufacturer, like Orianaa Decorpack, brings years of expertise and innovation to the table. They understand the intricacies of branding and leverage cutting-edge technology to deliver top-notch label solutions.

Customization Options

Every brand is unique, and your sticker labels should reflect that uniqueness. A reliable manufacturer offers a wide range of customization options, including special effects, materials, and finishes, allowing you to create labels that align perfectly with your brand identity.

Quality Assurance

Quality is non-negotiable when it comes to branding. By partnering with a trusted manufacturer, you can rest assured that your sticker labels meet the highest standards of quality and durability, enhancing the overall perception of your products.

Timely Delivery

In today's fast-paced business environment, timely delivery is essential. A manufacturer with efficient production processes and streamlined logistics, like Orianaa Decorpack, ensures that your sticker labels are delivered promptly, enabling you to meet deadlines and seize market opportunities.

Conclusion

In conclusion, the significance of branding cannot be overstated, and sticker labels serve as indispensable tools in shaping brand perception. By partnering with Orianaa Decorpack, recognized as one of the best label manufacturing companies in India, you gain access to unparalleled expertise and innovation in branding and labeling solutions.

Orianaa Decorpack offers a comprehensive range of customizable sticker labels, including Shrink Sleeve Labels, PS-Sticker Labels, Heat Transfer Labels, In-Mold Labels, Stretch Labels, and Specialty Labels. With over three decades of experience in the industry, Orianaa Decorpack has established itself as a pioneer in introducing decorative shrink sleeve labels to the Indian market.

Whether you're looking to enhance product visibility, communicate brand values, or differentiate your products from competitors, Orianaa Decorpack has the expertise and resources to meet your needs. From conceptualization to production, their state-of-the-art design studio and production facilities ensure top-notch quality and timely delivery.

Investing in quality sticker labels from Orianaa Decorpack not only elevates your branding efforts but also reinforces consumer trust and loyalty. Take your brand to new heights of success with Orianaa Decorpack – your trusted partner for branding and labeling solutions in India.

[aurgdesign]

Cosmetic Package Design Company in South Korea

Cosmetic package design is a critical aspect of the beauty industry, and AURG Design in South Korea has made a name for itself as a leader in this field. AURG Design is a renowned creative agency specializing in the art of cosmetic package design, with a strong reputation for creating stunning, innovative, and functional packaging solutions for some of the world's most prominent beauty brands.

[ms-demeanor]

You may have posted about this before, but im very curious about you saying "email was a mistake" because it's such a cemented part of online communication. Is it the technology?

Email became infrastructural in a way that it was never intended to be and wasn't designed for.

There is too much momentum toward email being the primary means of business communication that unless there is a massive technology shift we're unlikely to see wide adoption of an alternative and email takes up so much space in the IT space that it's hard to say what the alternative would be.

Much of what used to be email now happens in company chat apps, which I think is an improvement in many ways, but you chat with your coworkers in a way that you're unlikely to chat with a client or send a quote to a prospect.

A huge amount of effort goes into making email better, and making email systems talk to each other, and making email secure because it is so ubiquitous that you can't realistically ask people not to use it.

But it's fucking terrible and we're asking too much of a set of protocols that was supposed to send small, not-very-private, communications between academics.

Why can't you send big files via email? Because that's not what email is for.

Why is it a pain in the ass to send encrypted emails? Because that's not what email is for.

Why aren't your emails portable, and easy to move from one service to another? Because that's not what email is for.

Why are emails so easy to spoof? Because they were never meant to be used the way we use them so there was no reason to safeguard against that fifty years ago

It's like how social security cards were never meant to be used as one of your major super serious government IDs where all of your activity through all of your life is tracked, because if they knew they needed a system for that they probably would have built a better one in the first place.

Nobody who sat down and developed email looked more than half a century into the future and went "so people are going to be using this system to create identities to access banking and medical records and grocery shopping and school records so we'd better make sure that it's robust enough to handle all of that" because instead they were thinking "Neat! I can send a digital message to someone on a different computer network than the one that I am literally in the same building as."

We think of email as, like, a piece of certified mail that is hand delivered in tamperproof packaging to only the intended recipient who signs for it with their thumbprint and a retina scan when it is, instead, basically a postcard.

It would be absurd to try to do the things people do with email with postcards, and it's *nearly* as absurd to try to do them via email.

[dipanshutech07]

Elegant and Professional Catalog Design Services|Catalog Design that Captures Your Brand Identity|Catalog Design and Printing Services Package|Transform Your Ideas into Stunning Catalogs

 We understand the importance of a strong online presence, and our websites are designed to be responsive, engaging, and optimized for search engines to ensure maximum visibility and user engagement.

In addition to best web design, we excel in best app design, crafting intuitive and feature-rich mobile applications for both iOS and Android platforms. Our app designs combine aesthetics with functionality, providing seamless user experiences that keep users engaged and satisfied.

[vexwerewolf]

If we talk about the aesthetics of technology in Lancer, we can divide each of the Big 4 along lines of form and function.

IPS-N: Pure Function

IPS-N cares only what a mech does. It doesn't need to look good or pretty doing it - it only needs to be able to do that thing well. It's notable that the Raleigh, arguably the most form-oriented of the IPS-N frames, is also considered to be the company's biggest commercial failure - they strayed from their core design principles and got punished for it.

Harrison Armory: Form Follows Function

Harrison Armory still leans pretty heavily towards the functionality side of things, but it isn't satisfied with doing a good job alone. Yes, the mechs have to perform well, but they also have to look good doing it. There's no practical application for the Sherman's sleeveless coat or the Tokugawa's dainty little tassels, but they don't hinder combat functionality and they make the mechs look dashing. In comparison to IPS-N's coarse, industrial, almost unfinished look, HA mechs look stern, austere and imposing. There's a smoothness to them that you just don't get on IPS-N frames.

SSC: Function Follows Form

SSC is where we start to plunge into aesthetics-forward mech design. The Death's Head isn't six-legged because it's a sniper - the Death's Head is a sniper because it's six-legged. SSC came up with a mech design and asked: "what would this do best?" A six-legged chassis provided a more stable firing platform for precision weaponry, so that was what it did. Shapes and appearances are invented, and then a use case is discovered for them.

HORUS: Pure Form

It might seem weird to classify HORUS as "pure form" when their mechs largely don't have a consistent visual identity outside of the examples in the book. However, if we look a little deeper at the definition of "form," the explanation becomes clear: in some ways, HORUS is in the business of making statements, not mechs.

For anyone who's actually played a HORUS mech in Lancer, you may have noticed how awkward they are to actually pilot. Their statlines are, on paper, often very poorly suited to the sort of work they have to do. The Gorgon is built to attract attention and draw fire but has no armor. The Manticore is meant to be a front-line fighter but is quite slow. The Minotaur is meant to be a tech platform but has a low sensor range. The Pegasus' one functional trait doesn't apply to any of the weapons in its equipment package!

This is because HORUS mechs are designed purely as a testament to a certain discipline of technology. I remember expressing irritation with a friend's NeoGeo-for-X-Box emulator once, that you couldn't reconfigure the controller mapping so that it was easier to play with the X-Box controller. He remarked that it was meant as a historical preservation tool that perfectly duplicated the functionality of the NeoGeo, and that the only reason you could even play games using it at all is because that was a function of NeoGeo arcade cabinets.

That's how HORUS mechs are - their usability as chassis is broadly a side-effect.

[innovative-graphics]

Magazine Design Service in Pune

Innovative Graphics offers the best magazine design services in Pune for creating beautiful and professional designs that attract and mesmerize readers. With cover pages and inner layouts, our designs captivate the audience, inspire the readers, and thereby help in boosting up magazine sales. Let us bring out your magazine with great appealing themes and creative layouts.

[ranidspace]

there's a lot of fear mongering around the new firefox terms of service and privacy policy and most of all of it is bullshit and, just fear mongering. One thing that is concerning however is the following:

Your use of Firefox must follow Mozilla’s Acceptable Use Policy, and you agree that you will not use Firefox to infringe anyone’s rights or violate any applicable laws or regulations.

Before this would only apply to mozilla services such as the matrix chat, firefox send (rip), the vpn, or whatever, but now they are saying it is applied to the browser as well.

And one of the things you shouldn't do according to the policy is, you guessed it:

Upload, download, transmit, display, or grant access to content that includes graphic depictions of sexuality or violence

So mozilla (perhaps accidentally, companies love to do this but also mozilla is kind of stupid), just said you cannot use firefox to browse porn. If it is intentional and they double down on this (which I'm really not sure if they even can, firefox is a program running locally on your computer, it's not a service they can just ban you from or anything like that, again, mozilla is a bit stupid), it's not a reason to use chromium. In the terms of service they also write:

These Terms only apply to the Executable Code version of Firefox, not the Firefox source code.

"the Executable Code" is vague, like does it count if you build it locally on your computer, or is it just the mozilla packaged versions of it downloaded from official sources or whatever idk.

But i think it would make sense forks don't count as the terms apply to "Firefox" and not anything else. So here's some alternative browsers which aren't firefox, but are firefox based:

Librewolf: just firefox, all the crap removed, and lots of privacy features turned on as well. Google is disabled in the search bar, but you can enable it again with a bit of a hack, and by default, history and cookies is cleared when you close it. You can turn that off easily. Basically identical to regular firefox otherwise, it's what i'm currently using.

Zen: Very new but gaining popularity quickly. kind of buggy due to it's recency, but people seem to love it. Main focus is customization, but with improvements in privacy, and speed. Pretty different from other browsers, but that might be what you want.

thats. basically the main two rn. i dont think anything else really would be good for most people and even as someone who really likes to get into things deep with privacy and security and shit i think librewolf is just fine. there's lot of other options but they're kinda all in the categories that these two cover.

While nowhere near in a state to be used as a regular browser, i would keep your eyes on Ladybird which is undergoing the insane challenge of making a web browser from scratch; it's not based on chromium or firefox. The first alpha version is projected to come out next year and it seems very promising.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Denise Hearn and Vass Bednar’s “The Big Fix”

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/12/05/ted-rogers-is-a-dope/#galen-weston-is-even-worse

The Canadian national identity involves a lot of sneering at the US, but when it comes to oligarchy, Canada makes America look positively amateurish.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this thread to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/12/05/ted-rogers-is-a-dope/#galen-weston-is-even-worse

Canada's monopolists may be big fish in a small pond, but holy moly are they big, compared to the size of that pond. In their new book, The Big Fix: How Companies Capture Markets and Harm Canadians, Denise Hearn and Vass Bednar lay bare the price-gouging, policy-corrupting ripoff machines that run the Great White North:

https://sutherlandhousebooks.com/product/the-big-fix/

From telecoms to groceries to pharmacies to the resource sector, Canada is a playground for a handful of supremely powerful men from dynastic families, who have bought their way to dominance, consuming small businesses by the hundreds and periodically merging with one another.

Hearn and Bednar tell this story and explain all the ways that Canadian firms use their market power to reduce quality, raise prices, abuse workers and starve suppliers, even as they capture the government and the regulators who are supposed to be overseeing them.

The odd thing is that Canada has been in the antitrust game for a long time: Canada passed its first antitrust law in 1889, a year before the USA got around to inaugurating its trustbusting era with the passage of the Sherman Act. But despite this early start, Canada's ultra-rich have successfully used the threat of American corporate juggernauts to defend the idea of Made-in-Canada monopolies, as homegrown King Kongs that will keep the nation safe from Yankee Godzillas.

Canada's Competition Bureau is underfunded and underpowered. In its entire history, the agency has never prevented a merger – not even once. This set the stage for Canada's dominant businesses to become many-tentacled conglomerates, like Canadian Tire, which owns Mark's Work Warehouse, Helly Hansen, SportChek, Nevada Bob's Golf, The Fitness Source, Party City, and, of course, a bank.

A surprising number of Canadian conglomerates end up turning into banks: Loblaw has a bank. So does Rogers. Why do these corrupt, price-gouging companies all go into "financial services?" As Hearn and Bednar explain, owning a bank is the key to financialization, with the company's finances disappearing into a black box that absorbs taxation attempts and liabilities like a black hole eating a solar system.

Of course, the neat packaging up of vast swathes of Canada's economy into these financialized and inscrutable mega-firms makes them awfully convenient acquisition targets for US and offshore private equity firms. When the Competition Bureau (inevitably) fails to block those acquisitions, whole chunks of the Canadian economy disappear into foreign hands.

This is a short book, but it's packed with a lot of easily digested detail about how these scams work: how monopolies use cross-subsidies (when one profitable business is used to prop up an unprofitable business in order to kill potential competitors) and market power to rip Canadians off and screw workers.

But the title of the book is The Big Fix, so it's not all doom and gloom. Hearn and Bednar note that Canadians and their elected reps are getting sick of this shit, and a bill to substantially beefed up Canadian competition law passed Parliament unanimously last year.

This is part of a wave of antitrust fever that's sweeping the world's governments, notably the US under Biden, where antitrust enforcers did more in the past four years than their predecessors accomplished over the previous 40 years.

Hearn and Bednar propose a follow-on agenda for Canadian lawmakers and bureaucrats: they call for a "whole of government" approach to dismantling Canada's monopolies, whereby each ministry would be charged with combing through its enabling legislation to find latent powers that could be mobilized against monopolies, and then using those powers.

The authors freely admit that this is an American import, modeled on Biden's July 2021 Executive Order on monopolies, which set out 72 action items for different parts of the administration, virtually all of which were accomplished:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2021/08/party-its-1979-og-antitrust-back-baby

What the authors don't mention is that this plan was actually cooked up by a Canadian: Columbia law professor Tim Wu, who served in the White House as Biden's tech antitrust czar, and who grew up in Toronto (we've known each other since elementary school!).

Wu's plan has been field tested. It worked. It was exciting and effective. There's something weirdly fitting about finding the answer to Canada's monopoly problems coming from America, but only because a Canadian had to go there to find a receptive audience for it.

The Big Fix is a fantastic primer on the uniquely Canadian monopoly problem, a fast read that transcends being a mere economics primer or history lesson. It's a book that will fire you up, make you angry, make you determined, and explain what comes next.

[buckets-and-trees]

Huffily Ever After: A CindereLloyd Story [6/8]

Chapter Six - An Afternoon Adrift

Characters/Pairings: Lloyd Hansen x curvy Millennial Female!Reader Word Count: 6.5k Summary: You're fired, and it's not a joke.

SERIES Content/Warnings: modern Cinderella adaptation, unknown identities, enemies to lovers, toxic coworkers, eventual smut

Notes: Tenth story for the Valentine Storygrams.

Previous Chapter | Series

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

"What's going on?" you asked, your voice sounding small and uncertain even to your own ears, and you hated that. "Isn't it obvious?" Amilla said, her voice as cold and sharp as an icicle. "You're fired."

The words hit you like a physical blow, knocking the air from your lungs.

"What?" you gasped, your mind reeling. "Why?"

Amilla's gaze was unflinching, her posture rigid. "We lost Zhongxin to Hansen Global this morning," she started. “Holly and Anya told me you’ve been spending every minute you can with people from Hansen Global since you got here, so since you’re clearly jumping ship, I’m cutting you out first so you don’t get the satisfaction.”

Your mind reeled, struggling to process Amilla's words. The accusation was so absurd, so far from reality, that for a moment you were speechless. The bustling lobby seemed to fade away, leaving you in a bubble of disbelief with only Amilla's cold stare penetrating the haze.

"That's... that's ridiculous," you finally managed. You cleared your throat, forcing strength into your words. "I haven't been 'spending every minute' with any one person or group. I've been attending sessions, networking with potential clients and collaborators to consult with, just like we planned."

Amilla's eyebrow arched skeptically. "Really? Because that's not what the team says. They've seen you with Claude Dumont and Lloyd Hansen multiple times and word spread that you were at the Hansen Global table at the awards gala last night cozying right up to Robert Hansen himself."

Your mind raced, trying to make sense of Amilla's accusations. "I spoke with Claude and Lloyd at a few networking events, yes. And I was invited to the Hansen table for part of the gala, but that was just—"

Amilla cut you off with a sharp wave of her hand. "Save it. The evidence is clear. Even now your boyfriend’s inserting himself after lurking in wait for you.”

You turn and look over your shoulder, angry to see Lloyd just a few steps away.

“I’m not her boyfriend,” he says, voice low and clipped.

“Stay out of this,” you hiss.

He’s not your boyfriend, nor do you want him to be, but his instant rebuttal still stung your pride in the moment.

Amilla’s laugh is devoid of any actual mirth. “You've been consorting with our biggest competitor, and now we've lost our most important international client to them. The timing is too convenient to be coincidence."

Anger rages within you, cutting through the shock. "This is ridiculous! I've poured my heart and soul into Nexus, into the Zhongxin account. I would never betray the company like that!"

"Actions speak louder than words," Amilla replied coldly. "And your actions have spoken volumes. Since it’s a firing with cause, you’re termination is effective immediately, and no severance package will be offered. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” her last words were dripping with falsely overdone politeness, “we’re done here, and I’m done with you forever.”

With that, Amilla turned on her heel and strutted away and back into the restaurant.

You stood rooted to the spot, your mind reeling as you tried to process what had just happened. The bustling hotel lobby blurred and turned to white noise, leaving you in a daze of shock and disbelief. Your career, your reputation, everything you had worked so hard for - it all felt like it was crumbling around you.

"Hey," Lloyd's voice cut through the fog of your thoughts. You'd almost forgotten he was there. "Are you okay?"

You turned to face him, anger flaring hot and bright. "Am I okay? No, I'm not okay! I just lost my job because of you and your company!"

Lloyd's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching. "Because of me? I had nothing to do with it!"

"Really?" you scoffed. "Your company poaches our biggest international client, then I'm accused of consorting with the enemy and fired on the spot. Seems pretty connected to me."

Lloyd took a step closer, his voice low and intense. "I had no idea Zhongxin was your client when the deal was made. And I certainly didn't orchestrate your firing."

You wanted to believe him, but doubt and anger still churned within you. "Then why were you following me just now?"

"I wasn't following you," Lloyd said, exasperation creeping into his tone. "This is a public lobby. I was on my way to meet someone when, yes, I did slow down out of curiosity and overheard the conversation. I couldn't just walk away when I heard what was happening."

He couldn't walk away when he heard what was happening? You searched his face, skeptical, before throwing out a, “Fine,” and turning away.

“Fine?” he scoffed. “You’re still pissed at me?” he followed you as you headed for the elevators.

You spun around to face Lloyd, anger flashing in your eyes. "My career just imploded in front of me, so, yeah, I’m angry, I’m hurt, but don’t flatter yourself into thinking that every one of my thoughts are centered around you, Lloyd Hansen.”

You spun and walked as swiftly as you could without running, weaving through the clusters of tourists and conference attendees in the lobby. The opulent surroundings that had once filled you with awe now seemed to mock you, a stark reminder of how quickly fortunes could change. Crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead, their light catching on the gilded mirrors lining the walls, reflecting your harried expression back at you from every angle.

As you approached the bank of elevators, you could hear Lloyd's footsteps behind you, his longer stride allowing him to follow you easily. You jabbed the elevator button repeatedly, willing it to arrive faster, desperate to retreat to the privacy of your room.

"Wait," Lloyd tried. "Just hear me out."

The elevator dinged, its doors sliding open. You stepped inside, turning to face Lloyd as you pressed the button for your floor. "I don't want to hear anything you have to say right now," you said, your voice trembling slightly despite your efforts to keep it steady.

Lloyd's hand shot out, holding the elevator door open. His blue eyes bored into yours, intense and unyielding. "Five minutes. That's all I'm asking for."

You hesitated, torn between your need to be alone and the nagging feeling that there was more to this situation than you understood. The elevator chimed impatiently, urging you to make a decision.

"I don't think there's anything left to say."

Lloyd's expression hardened, a muscle twitching in his jaw. As the doors began to close again, he delayed them once more. "You're making assumptions based on incomplete information."

You crossed your arms and pinned him with a venomous stare, “You can’t reverse what just happened, so I don’t think there’s any information you could share that would really help the situation at all, okay?”

Lloyd's jaw clenched, his piercing blue eyes boring into yours with an intensity that made you want to look away. But you held his gaze, refusing to back down.

"Fine," he conceded, his voice low and controlled. "If that's what you want."

He stepped back, allowing the elevator doors to close. As they slid shut, you caught one last glimpse of his face - a mixture of frustration and something else you couldn't quite identify. Regret? Concern?

The moment the doors closed fully, you sagged against the elevator wall, the enormity of what had just transpired was about to crash over you in waves, you could feel it. Your career, your reputation, your future - all of it had been upended in a matter of minutes. Tears pricked at your eyes, but you blinked them back furiously. You wouldn't cry, not here, not now.

The elevator ascended swiftly, and you knew you only had to keep it together for a few more minutes.

As soon as you entered your hotel room, the facade crumbled. You collapsed onto the bed, body shaking with sobs you could no longer contain. The injustice of it all overwhelmed you - the baseless accusations, the loss of the job you'd poured yourself into, and no chance to even defend yourself.

Your mind raced through the events of the past few days, searching for any sign, any clue that could have warned you of the impending disaster. But there was nothing. Just yesterday, you'd been riding high on the success of your panel discussion, feeling like you were finally carving out a place for an exciting future in the industry.

Victor trying to force himself had shaken you and been humiliating, but you had been able to work through enough of that with Maggie to know that it would just be a dark spot but not ruin everything. It had been a private struggle, and you could even guess that it wasn’t probably even that much to do with you, you just happened to be the one he’d fixed on this week.

But this?

It was personal.

You had known Amilla tolerated you because she had to and you delivered results. But she’d found a reason to finally shove you out. And now? Now you were unemployed, accused of betraying the very company you'd given your all to in the first chapters of your journey, and stranded at a conference where you no longer belonged. The weight of it all pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe.

As the initial shock began to subside, a new emotion started to take hold: anger. Anger at Amilla for jumping to conclusions without giving you a chance to explain. Anger at Holly and Anya for apparently spreading rumors about you. Anger at Lloyd and Hansen Global for their role in this mess, even if you weren't entirely sure what that role was.

And beneath it all, a simmering anger at yourself. Should you have seen this coming? Had you been naive in thinking your hard work and dedication would be enough to secure your place at Nexus?

Your phone buzzed incessantly on the nightstand, likely filled with messages from confused colleagues and friends who had heard snippets of gossip. But you couldn't bring yourself to look at it, not yet. The thought of facing their questions, their pity, or worse, their judgment, was too much. So you turned your phone to do not disturb for the next hour before putting it back on the nightstand.

You lay on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling as your mind raced. The plush comforter was your only respite in this moment, and yet even that made you acutely aware that you no longer belonged here, in this posh hotel room paid for by a company that had just unceremoniously fired you.

When your phone buzzed again an hour later, it pulled you from a nap you didn’t know you’d sunken into. Your mind hadn’t quieted, but evidently being still, in the cozy bed, the emotional exhaustion had swallowed you up - racing mind and all. With a heavy sigh, you reached for your phone, bracing yourself for whatever fresh hell awaited you.

The screen was filled with notifications for missed calls, text messages, and slack alerts. Your thumb hovered over the screen, hesitating. Did you really want to deal with this right now?

Before you could decide, a soft knock at the door startled you out of your daze. For a moment, you considered ignoring it, not wanting to face anyone. But then a familiar voice called out.

"It's Gus. Please open up."

With a heavy sigh, you pushed yourself off the bed and made your way to the door. When you opened it, Gus stood there, his face etched with concern. Without a word, he stepped forward and pulled you into a tight hug.

"I don’t even know what to say," he said softly. "I'm so sorry."

You melted into his embrace, fresh tears streaming down your face, but at least you were past sobbing - for the moment.

"How did you find out?" you asked, your voice muffled against Gus's shoulder.

Gus pulled back slightly, his hands resting on your shoulders. "Word spreads fast at these things. I overheard some people gossiping about it in the hallway. I couldn't believe it, and I tried to text you but you didn’t answer, so I came straight here."

You stepped back, allowing Gus to enter the room. As you closed the door, you felt a wave of gratitude wash over you. At least you weren't completely alone in this mess.

"I know it happened, but I still can't believe it," you admitted, sinking onto the edge of the bed. "One minute I'm preparing for what I assumed would be a red alert meeting, and the next..."

Gus sat beside you, his brow furrowed. "What exactly did happen? The rumor mill is going wild, but I want to hear it from you."

You close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose. Amilla had set you up for a spectacle in your firing. That was abundantly clear now.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself to recount the painful scene. "Amilla, Anya, and Holly were already there - she told me to meet them at noon, but they’d already been seated and had ordered even though I was a few minutes early. She ushered me out into the lobby, accused me of conspiring with Hansen Global, said we lost the Zhongxin account to them because of me. She fired me on the spot, effective immediately, and said it was so I couldn’t quit on Nexus after what I’d done."

Gus's eyes widened in disbelief. "That's insane! You've been nothing but loyal to Nexus. How could she think you'd betray the company like that?"

You shook your head, frustration bubbling up again. "Apparently, Holly and Anya have been spreading rumors about me spending time with people from Hansen Global. And then Lloyd showed up right as Amilla was firing me, which only made things worse."

"Lloyd? As in Lloyd Hansen?" Gus asked, his tone sharpening slightly.

You nodded, rubbing the back of your neck. "Yeah, he just appeared out of nowhere. He said it was just terrible timing, but it definitely didn't help my case."

Gus's eyes narrowed. "What did he want?"

"He tried to talk to me afterwards, said he wanted to explain something," you replied, shaking your head. "But I was too upset to listen. I just wanted to get away from everyone."

Gus was quiet for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. "Do you think... is there any chance he actually knows something about what happened?"

You paused, considering. In your anger and shock, you hadn't given Lloyd any chance to speak. "I don't know. Maybe? But even if he does, how could it possibly change anything? I've still been fired.”

"And what exactly is your relationship with Lloyd Hansen?"

You felt a flash of irritation at the implication in Gus's tone. "There is no relationship," you countered firmly. "We've interacted at a few events, that's all. He invited me to dance at the afterparty of the gala last night, but it was purely professional, and then he helped me out in that Victor altercation as any decent person would have."

Gus looked skeptical. "Are you sure about that? He seems pretty interested in you."

You stood up abruptly, and began pacing the room. "Even if he is - which I'm not at all convinced of - it doesn't matter," you said, your voice rising with frustration. "What matters is that I've lost my job and I have no idea what I'm going to do next."

Gus held up his hands in a placating gesture. "You're right, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be pushing you about this right now. What can I do to help?"

You stopped pacing and took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. "I don't know, Gus. I feel like I'm drowning here."

"Okay, let's take this one step at a time," Gus said, his tone gentle but firm. "First things first, do you want to stay for the rest of the conference?"

You hadn't even considered that. The thought of facing everyone after what had happened made your gut churn. “No, but I don’t have the money to just jump on a plane back home. God, am I even still allowed to stay in this room? Nexus was paying for everything for our travel!”

Gus's expression softened. "Don't worry about that right now. We'll figure it out. If you need to, you can crash in my room until we sort things out."

You felt a wave of gratitude wash over you. "Thanks, Gus. I don't know what I'd do without you right now."

He gave you a small smile. "That's what friends are for.”

You nodded, grateful for Gus's steady presence. As you both sat in silence for a moment, your phone buzzed again, startling you back to its presence.

"You should probably check that," Gus said gently, “but do you want to yet?”

You grimaced at him before your eyes flicked back to the phone.

“Okay, no,” Gus said, “there might be something important, but I’m making the executive decision that it can all wait for at least one more hour. We’re going out for a walk. Fresh air and the city streets will be good for your soul, and then you can with all of this,” he snatched your phone from the nightstand, shaking it around before pocketing it in his pocket.

You frowned, but nodded. You felt like you should be ready, but you weren’t ready. “Okay. But one hour. Then I should at least skim things.”

“Totally agree to that. Now go splash some water on your face, grab a jacket, and then we’re going. I downloaded six audio-guided walking tours of the city and have only done one of them!”

You managed a weak smile at Gus's enthusiasm. "Alright, alright. Give me a minute."

In the bathroom, you did as instructed and splashed cold water on your face, trying to erase the evidence of your tears. The person staring back at you in the mirror looked pale and shell-shocked, but at least your eyes were no longer red and puffy. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the outside world.

You and Gus were able to head down to the ground floor and make your way out out of the hotel without bumping into anyone, and the bustling city street hit you with a wave of noise and energy. It was jarring after the quiet cocoon of your room, but also oddly comforting. The world was still turning, life was going on all around you, oblivious to your personal crisis.

Gus handed you an earbud and pulled out his phone. He tapped the screen a few times as you inserted the proffered but and then a chipper voice began narrating directly into your ear.

"Welcome to the Hidden Gems of Paris-Montparnasse according to an ex-pat Walking Tour! I'll be exploring some of the lesser-known historical sites and architectural wonders of this vibrant city. Let's begin our journey at the Saint-Jacques Metro station…"

As you and Gus followed the audio guide's instructions, weaving through the bustling streets, you felt some of the tension in your body start to ease with the movement. The narrator's enthusiastic descriptions of century-old buildings and quirky local legends provided a welcome distraction from the turmoil of your thoughts.

Gus occasionally nudged you, pointing out particularly interesting details or making quiet jokes about some of the more outlandish claims in the tour. His presence was comforting, a reminder that you weren't alone in this mess.

After about forty-five minutes, you were just exiting the Gardens of the Observatory of Paris when Gus suddenly tensed beside you. You turned to follow his gaze, and the sight that greeted you was both unexpected and overwhelming.

There stood Maggie, her arms laden with an assortment of paper bags. Next to her, also holding bags and looking slightly uncomfortable but determined, was Claude Dumont.

"What a perfect coicidence!" Maggie exclaimed, her voice infused with a forced cheerfulness that didn't quite reach her eyes as they approached. "We were on our way back to the hotel to try and find you - and we come bearing sustenance for the weary."

You stood frozen for a moment, your mind struggling to process this new development.

“What do you say to a picnic here in the park?” Maggie suggested more than asked.

You hesitated, torn between the desire to press on with the walking tour or retreat back to your room and the realization that you couldn't hide forever. Gus squeezed your arm gently, a silent show of support.

"I guess that would be okay," you managed. These were two people

Maggie's smile softened, becoming more genuine. "Wonderful. Let's find a nice spot, shall we?"

Following Maggie and Claude deeper into the garden, you couldn't help but notice the tense set of Claude's shoulders. He kept glancing at you, but didn’t speak yet, the tension palpable but manageable as Claude's presence served as a stark reminder of the company at the center of your predicament.

You found a secluded area with a few benches surrounding a small fountain. The gentle sound of water provided a soothing backdrop as Maggie and Claude began unpacking their bags.

"We've got a bit of everything," Maggie announced, beginning to open bags. The rich scent of freshly baked bread wafted towards you, mingling with the sharp tang of cheese and the sweet promise of pastries. It was a sensory bliss that further distracted you from the upheaval of your life today. Your stomach growled in approval, reminding you that you’d missed lunch.

"I... hope my presence is not wholly unwelcome," Claude said, his usually confident demeanor somewhat subdued. He held out bottles of sparkling water and spring water, letting you take your pick. "I insisted on accompanying Maggie on her mission to find and feed you. I thought perhaps I could offer some clarity on the situation."

You felt a conflicting surge of emotions. Over the past few days, you'd grown fond of Claude. His wit, charm, and genuine interest in your ideas had been a breath of fresh air in the often stuffy atmosphere of the conference. His friendly overtures had been so genuine and welcome, but now…

You hesitated, torn between your desire for answers and your instinct to protect yourself from further hurt.

Maggie intervened, her voice gentle. "I know it's a lot, but I think you should hear him out. Claude reached out to me the moment he heard, and... well, I think there's more to this story than we realize."

You took a deep breath, trying to center yourself.

"Okay," you said finally.

The late afternoon sun slanted through the window, casting long shadows across the landscape and illuminating the worry lines etched on Claude's face.

Claude cleared his throat, his fingers drumming a nervous rhythm on his knee. "First, I want to say how deeply sorry I am about what's happened. The deal with Zhongxin... it was news to me this morning as well."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, and you exchanged a quick glance with Gus, who looked equally taken aback.

"What do you mean? You’re head of international relations at Hansen Global.”

Claude nodded, a rueful smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Indeed I am. But the world of international business is often more complex than it appears on the surface." He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he began to explain.

"You see, Zhongxin has been a coveted client for many companies in our industry for quite some time. Months ago, when they opened up a bidding process, inviting proposals for representation, multiple companies jumped at the chance, including both Nexus and Hansen Global. I was heavily involved in our pitch, given my role. We put together what I believed to be an impressive proposal - innovative strategies, cutting-edge technologies, the works."

As Claude spoke, you found yourself transported back to those intense weeks of preparation at Nexus. The late nights, the endless revisions, the nervous energy that had permeated the office. You remembered the thrill when Nexus had been selected, the pride you'd felt in being part of the team that secured such a prestigious client. The memory now felt bittersweet, tainted by recent events.

Claude continued, his voice drawing you back to the present. "We lost that bid to Nexus, fair and square. It was disappointing, of course, but not entirely unexpected given Nexus's stellar reputation emerging in the Asian market."

You nodded, a small spark of pride flickering despite everything. Your team had worked incredibly hard on that pitch.

“I have a longtime friend who is a member of Zhongxin’s board, so afterwards I asked if there was anything we could have done differently, anything that might have swayed their decision. And do you know what my friend told me?"

You shook your head, curiosity piqued despite yourself.

"He said no, that our proposal was excellent. But then he mentioned something interesting. He said that in the end, there was a dynamic young professional on the Nexus team that they had a really good feeling about. Someone who had not only showed remarkable insight and passion during the presentations, but who had been diligent, eager, and helpful in all correspondence from the beginning stages up to the end." Claude paused, and his gaze intense gaze held a visible glimmer of admiration despite the gravity of the situation. "He was talking about you."

The revelation hit you like a wave, momentarily washing away the ache of your recent firing. You remembered the pitch meeting vividly - the way you'd passionately presented your ideas, the energy in the room, the approving nods from the Zhongxin representatives. At the time, you'd attributed their positive response to the strength of the overall proposal. Now, learning that you had played such a pivotal role in securing the account filled you with a bittersweet pride.

“I told you the night we met that I was already aware of your work in Southeast Asia and this was what pointed me in your direction, and I’ve been keeping tabs on your work since then.”

Claude's words hung in the air for a moment as you processed this new information. You felt a mix of pride and confusion, unsure how to reconcile this revelation with your current situation.

"But if I was such a key factor in winning the account," you began, your voice wavering slightly, "then why would Zhongxin suddenly switch to Hansen Global? And why would Amilla think I had anything to do with it?"

Claude's expression darkened. "That's where things get complicated. And, I'm afraid, rather ugly."

He paused, seeming to weigh how to proceed with the next bit. The air was thick with tension as everyone waited for him to continue.

Claude sighed, running a hand through his hair. "About a month ago, I started hearing whispers that Zhongxin was starting to become unhappy with Nexus. Nothing concrete, just murmurs of discontent. I didn't think much of it at first - client relationships often have ups and downs, especially as two parties learn to navigate the client relationship in the first year.

"But then," Claude continued, his voice lowering, "I heard something that troubled me deeply. There were rumors that someone at Nexus was deliberately sabotaging the Zhongxin account."

You felt your stomach drop. "What? That's impossible. We were all working so hard on that account!"

Claude nodded grimly. "I have no doubt that you were. But the whispers persisted. Now you worked most often with Min Ho Song, correct?"

“Yes.”

“And Min Ho learned that your team director, Amilla Tremaine, was making a trip to Shanghai to meet with a potential new client.”

“That’s right. Amilla and Zhongxin’s schedules weren’t lining up while she was going to be there, and since Zhongxin wasn’t paying to bring her out, she had to prioritize the other client, but Min Ho and the team seemed like they were understanding.”

“Well, it turns out Amilla did find a pocket of time to meet with Zhongxin.”

A pit began to form in your stomach.

Claude's expression grew even more somber as he continued. "According to my friend on the board, Amilla's meeting with Zhongxin was disastrous. She arrived nearly an hour late, offering only a flippant apology about traffic. This, in a culture where punctuality is highly valued, especially in business settings."

You felt your chest tighten, imagining the scene. The Zhongxin executives, impeccably dressed and perfectly on time, waiting in a sleek conference room as the minutes ticked by. The growing tension, the exchanged glances, the murmured concerns.

"But it gets worse," Claude said, his voice low. "Throughout the meeting, Amilla reportedly displayed a dismissive attitude towards Zhongxin's concerns and questions. She interrupted speakers, checked her phone repeatedly, and at one point even rolled her eyes at a suggestion from one of their senior board members."

You felt sick. This was not wildly different than how she treated you, but you were stunned that she had treated any client this way - especially one as large as Zhongxin.

“Seemingly fed up with their input and concerns, she proposed drastic changes to the current strategies - strategies that, as I understand it, were largely based on ideas you had pitched to launch some of their key campaign and marketing strategies. When they tried to express that they only wanted to discuss adjustments and expansions, she said they should trust her expertise - that she didn’t tell them how to do their jobs, so they shouldn’t tell her how to do hers.”

Your jaw dropped.

“The chair of the board then said she was right - and as board chair, he knew when it was time to terminate a toxic partnership.”

“Wait,” Gus interjected. “Are you saying that Amilla knew she killed the relationship before she even left Shanghai?”

Claude nodded. “Before she even left the building.”

“What the hell! How long did she think she’d be able to keep this quiet? Or did she think she’d be able to recover?” Gus asked.

You were still too stunned to speak.

“She may have even thought closing a deal with the new client would compensate for losing Zhongxin,” Maggie tossed out.

Claude shook his head, a wry smile playing at his lips. "It's anyone's guess what was going through Amilla's mind. Perhaps she thought she could salvage the situation, or maybe she believed losing Zhongxin wouldn't be as catastrophic as it's turned out to be. The human mind has an remarkable capacity for self-deception, especially when pride and ego are involved."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the lush gardens surrounding you. The late afternoon sun filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground and highlighting the vibrant colors of the flowers nearby. A gentle breeze carried the sweet scent of blooming roses, mingling with the earthy aroma of freshly cut grass.

"As for Zhongxin," Claude continued, his attention returning to you, "they didn't waste any time. After deciding to terminate their contract with Nexus, they immediately revisited the proposals that had been on the table a year ago. Our offer, it seems, still held viability and appeal for them. They worked with our office in Southeast Asia to finalize and sign the deal in the last twelve hours, and by the nature of the time difference, I only found out a couple of hours before they issued their press statement.”

You felt a mix of emotions swirling inside you - anger at Amilla, disbelief at the turn of events, and a growing sense of injustice. "But why would Amilla accuse me of betraying the company? Why fire me?"

Claude's expression darkened. "That's where things get even uglier. It seems Amilla needed a scapegoat."

Maggie leaned forward, her voice gentle but firm. "Think about it. Amilla knew she'd messed up catastrophically. She needed someone to blame, and fast."

"And I was the perfect target," you said, the realization running like ice through your veins. "Young, ambitious, someone she's never fully trusted or liked, and the person who had the closest relationship with the Zhongxin team."

Claude nodded grimly. "Exactly. By pinning the blame on you, she could potentially save face with the higher-ups at Nexus. She could claim that you had been secretly working with Hansen Global, feeding us information, and that's why we were able to swoop in so quickly after the fallout."

"That's ridiculous!" Gus exclaimed, his face flushed with anger. "There's no evidence to support that!"

"Evidence isn't always necessary when someone is desperate to cover their tracks," Maggie said softly, reaching out to squeeze your hand. “Not in the corporate jungle.”

You felt numb, struggling to process the enormity of what you were hearing. The injustice of it all made your head spin. You had poured your heart and soul into that account, into Nexus, only to have it all ripped away because of Amilla's incompetence and desperation to save face.

"So what happens now?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Claude leaned forward, his eyes intense. "That's up to you. But I want you to know that Hansen Global would be more than happy to bring you on board. In fact, when Zhongxin signed with us, they specifically suggested we poach you."

You blinked in surprise. "They did?"

Claude nodded. "They spoke very highly of your work and insights."

A small spark of pride ignited in your chest, but it was quickly doused by the weight of everything else. "I... I don't know. This is a lot to consider.”

"But this isn’t fair!" Gus retorted, his face still furious. "We can't let her get away with this!"

You appreciated Gus's righteous indignation on your behalf, but a creeping sense of hopelessness was settling in. "What can we even do? It's my word against hers.”

Gus gasped then.

“What?” you asked immediately.

“Helen!”

“Helen?”

“Yes!” he laughed. “She just landed a few hours ago! You’ve got to talk to her! You were basically her protégé! She’ll have to believe you!”

With all the drama, you’d forgotten she was on her way to Paris from Amsterdam, and while you’d been thrilled with that news this morning, now you were nervous to face her - if so many others knew you’d been fired, she certainly would by now, too.

Gus hastily pulled your phone from his pocket and thrust it into your hands. You bit your lip as you turned off Do Not Disturb.

Sure enough, among the sea of notifications, one stood out - a DM in Slack from Helen, your former boss and now the VP of Strategy and Innovation.

HELEN: We need to talk as soon as you can.

It had been sent almost an hour ago.

You stared at Helen's message, your heart racing. This could be your chance to set the record straight, to have someone with real influence at Nexus hear your side of the story. But doubt crept in - what if Helen had already made up her mind? What if she believed Amilla's version of events? Amilla was the one she’d hired as a director.

"Well?" Gus prompted, his eyes bright with anticipation. "Are you going to message her back?"

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. "Yes, I am."

With trembling fingers, you typed out a reply:

YOU: I'm available now if you are. Where would you like to meet?

The response came almost immediately:

HELEN: Meet me in the hotel lobby in 15 minutes.

You showed the others the message, a mix of hope and apprehension swirling in your stomach.

"This is good," Maggie said reassuringly. "Helen knows you, she'll listen to your side of the story."

“And if not, I’m serious about making you an offer,” Claude reiterated. 

“Do not accept anything from him until you speak with me though,” Maggie said. “I’ve been wanting to start my own think tank, and I came to the conference this year specifically to scope out members to flesh out my team.”

You couldn’t help but grin. “Wait, really?”

Maggie's eyes sparkled with excitement as she nodded. "Yes, really! I've been planning this for months, but I wanted to find the right people to bring on board. And after seeing you in action this week, I'm more convinced than ever that you'd be perfect for what I have in mind."

You felt a rush of warmth at her words, a stark contrast to the cold dismissal you'd received from Amilla earlier. The idea of working with Maggie, of being part of something new and innovative, was incredibly appealing.

"That's... wow, Maggie. I don't know what to say," you stammered, genuinely touched by her offer.

Maggie's smile widened. "Say you'll have dinner with me tonight so we can discuss it properly. I've got a reservation at this charming little restaurant I discovered last time I was in Paris.”

You nodded eagerly, “Yes, that would be perfect! Thank you." And then you said it again with more softness and warmth, looking at each of them. “Thank you. I don't know how I would have gotten through this day without your support.”

You felt so much gratitude for these people who believed in you, even in the face of this disaster - Maggie who had known while during your graduate pursuit, Gus who had worked along side you since you started at Nexus, and Claude who’d only known you a few days but had apparently been watching your career over the past year.

As you stood to leave, Claude reached out and gently touched your arm. "Remember, regardless of what happens with Helen, you have options. Amilla's actions will not define your future."

You smiled, determination taking root in your gut again at his words. You had always worked hard for everything. It was just time to pick up and do it again.

With a deep breath, you set off towards the hotel, Gus at your side, your mind racing with all you'd learned and the conversation to come. The walk back seemed both too long and too short, your nerves growing with each step.

The hotel lobby bustled with conference attendees, their animated chatter creating a low hum of background noise. Your eyes scanned the crowd, searching for Helen's familiar face. You spotted her almost immediately. She was seated in one of the plush armchairs, her tablet in hand, looking every bit the powerful executive you remembered. When she saw you, she stood, Gus squeezed your shoulder in a show of support and good luck, and you stood a little taller as you approached the Nexus VP of Strategy and Innovation.

"Hello," she said, her voice calm and measured. "I think we need to talk.”

next chapter: Conversations on the Final Night

Only two more chapters!

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[animeyanderelover]

Hello, can I ask for prompt 163 for muzan please? Thank you, and your writing is so divine and satisfying.

I have wanted to explore a more unique reader in this oneshot. My initial thoughts were of those of an oiran but since the anime already focused on those, I instead switched to the Geisha. If you want a brief explanation on what a Geisha exactly is, here is one of many sides I did my research on. Correct me if I got something wrong though. Another important note: Muzan is referred to by a false name during the majority of this story and has a changed appearance as he has assumed a fake identity like we have seen him do before in the Anime.

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, stalking, threats, manipulation, bribing, blackmailing, violence, death

Prompt 163: "I love you. You're mine. And I'll kill any bastard who tries to take you away from me."

Tags: @leveyani @nightmaresprophet

Words: 8.5k

Prompt 163

"Oka-san, you have called for me?"

As your soft voice echoed from behind the shoji doors to the private room of the proprietress of the okiya, your heart felt like it already knew the answer. This wasn't the first time that you had been called over to her quarters. No, it had been a not uncommon experience for a couple of weeks now.

"You may enter, child."

As you received permission, you gently slid open the doors. You bowed before you entered, your gaze landing on the figure of the older woman who was already sitting on a cushion on the tatami floor. Wordlessly she gestured with her hand for you to sit down in front of her. Following her silent demand, you lowered yourself down on your knees. In her lap you noticed a package, confirming your suspicions only more. Still, you didn't speak up on it. It was out of your power to do so in front of her.

You didn't talk until she would start this conversation. So you stayed quiet, waiting for her to speak up first. Inoue-san took her time, her gaze silently resting on you. It was not your place to mention it to her yet you imagined a shimmer of nostalgia within her eyes.

"You have truly grown into a beautiful woman, (y/n)."

Her words had you bow your head gently once more.

"It's only because of you, oka-san. You were after all the one who took me in 6 years ago. Only thanks to your guidance and support am I the woman I am today."

Experienced in the art of flattering customers, you were being sincere with Inoue-san. If she hadn't accepted you into her okiya then you would have never been able to learn the ways of the geisha. The older women shook her head in a soft motion, her eyes closing for a moment as she exhaled gently through her nostrils.

"Flattery is one of your strong suits, child. However, I believe you are aware that I didn't ask for you because I wanted to indulge in memories."

Her hands shuffled the package on her lap around, drawing the attention of your eyes once more to it.

"You must already know from whom this package is."

"Kurosawa-san," you answered, your voice filled with a steady confidence. This was no strange experience to your oka-san. It wasn't uncommon for clients of the tea houses the geisha from her house were working for to send gifts to their favored woman. Kurosawa was a special case though as his family had a special relationship with her okiya.

As the older woman offered you the package, you slowly took it from her. It held little weight but you never doubted that its content would be valuable nonetheless. You decided to open it later as you were sure that all other geisha and apprentices living in this establishment would be just as curious to find out together with you what lavish gift you had been presented with this time.

"Have you made a decision yet, child?"

"No, oka-san. I haven't."

A soft sigh. Then an understanding nod.

"I understand. You may leave now. You should slowly start to prepare for tonight. He has requested your company again tonight."

With one last bow you quietly made your way outside Inoue-san's quarters before heading back to your own room. As you made your way through the floor with the package in your hands, other women and younger girls started swarming around you.

"Another package?"

"Is it from Kurosawa-san again?"

"Say, have you thought about leaving the okiya and marrying him?"

Some questions were worded more gracefully than others, the difference between the geisha and the apprentices of this house showing. Many times had you been in this situation before and many times had you answered similar questions before. The answers to most of them hadn't changed which was why your only answer was a subtle smile.

Still, the question of what exactly was in the package was one you couldn't answer. Aware that everyone would be asking you soon about it though, you decided to open it in front of everyone. A trail of people was following you as you made your way to an open space often used to practice dances or playing different instruments.

As you sat down, you were from all sides surrounded by the figures of the other women. Multiple pairs of eyes were focused on the package as you slowly unwrapped it, pulling out a long and wooden box. As you slid the lid of it down, a pair of golden hair pins was revealed to everyone's sight. A couple of surprised gasps filled the space, excited whispers arising at the sight of the expensive hair ornaments. You didn't join those conversations, your fingers slowly tracing over the floral design.

---

"One-san, is that the Kurosawa-san that everyone was talking about earlier today?"

At the question of her minarai, the slightly older geisha turned her head. Not in a way where anyone would accuse her of outright staring. It was more of a subtle tilt as she tuned in her shamisen. Still keeping her eyes on the other clients, from the corner of her eyes she could still catch the sight of short, black hair and fine and expensive clothes. She didn't need more confirmation.

"Yes, Kohaku. That is Kurosawa Akimitsu, the son of a very influential family in this prefecture. His family has a close relationship to that of our okiya. They has donated a lot of money into its earliest establishments and the Kurosawa family, especially the men, have been very loyal customers since the beginning."

The young minarai sat next to her mentor, observing the handsome young man curiously. A few moments later she whispered yet another question.

"He's just standing there. Shouldn't we greet him?"

"Absolutely not. That is (y/n)'s task. She is the only one he visits for. Kurosawa-san is very selective with the geisha in this tea house and she is the only one that that he accepts company from."

As the older geisha whispered those words to her apprentice, you emerged from the stairs leading to the second floor of the wooden structure. Dark eyes landed on your figure immediately and your gaze soon followed. From the distance the younger apprentice watched attentively as you approached the handsome man with a subtle yet elegant smile on your face, bowing to him before you gestured for him to follow you upstairs. Only after both of them were out of view did she feel like it would be appropriate enough to speak up once more.

"Do you think that (l/n)-san is going to marry him one day? Everyone believes that Kurosawa-san is courting her."

"I don't know, Kohaku. That is her decision to make. If she chooses to marry him though, she cannot be a geisha anymore. Now hush. Asking me such questions is alright but never ask a client such personal things unless they wish to talk about it to you. We are here to entertain our guests and provide them with a good time."

"Understood, one-san."

---

Your moved the bachi held in your hand skillfully across the strings of the shamisen, playing one of his favored melodies that you had learned over many years of training. The cup of cloudy sake that you had poured him when he had sat down remained untouched, his focus completely on you. You could tell that much even as your own gaze was on your instrument, watching the bachi strike each cord. You knew the position and the sound each string produced by heart though so you would have been able to play it even with your eyes closed.

Both of you were in a small and private room on the second floor, the shoji doors shielding you from the rest of the ochaya. It was a familiar arrangement, one that was only possible because Kurosawa had the money and the connections. Otherwise the frequency of you being left alone with the most loyal customer wouldn't be possible.

"Why aren't you wearing my kanzashi? They were delivered to you earlier this day from what I have been told."

It was the first thing he said as soon as the last sounds of the shamisen faded away. You had been expecting as much though. From the first moment he had spotted you, you had noticed those dark eyes glancing at the hair ornament you were wearing in your styled hair. The short-lived flicker of irritation hadn't passed your observations either.

"Kurosawa-san, I am not fit to wear such beautifully crafted hair pins. They are more fit for only the most skillful of oiran or maybe a maiko. As a geisha I cannot wear an ornament as fine as I was gifted by you."

"Ah. Yes, I forgot. It is important to you to dress as modest and demure as your position demands it from you."

There was a subtle hint of mockery there. Kurosawa had never been exactly fond of the traditions and the rules that you lived by. Many gifts from him you had found yourself tugging away within your own room as you found no use in them in your life as the geisha. You had thought that he had learned this at least a bit. His last present had been after all the very shamisen that you were playing for him. With its unique design it stood out from the other shamisen the geisha were playing. Flowers in various colours and shapes decorated the material, even finding their ways up its neck. You had almost decided not to bring it with you either during your work but it had been Inoue-san from all people who had advised you to let Kurosawa see at the very least that you weren't ignoring all of his presents.

"A geisha dresses in simple but elegant outfits because we impress with our skills and our art. Our maiko dress in more colourful kimono and are decorated with kazashi more impressive so that their looks may distract from their inexperience. If I were to dress in the presents you have so kindly gifted me, it would imply that I lack the experience and skill to entertain. That I am unworthy of my title as a geisha. Do you think that I lack talent, Kurosawa-san?"

His eyes narrowed. You had spun his words around in an unfortunate way. Were he to express his interest for you to wear his many presents, he would agree to your suggestion that he believed that you lacked talent and needed to distract with your looks.

"I would never dare to suggest such a thing to you, (y/n)."

He gave in. For a man with an ego as strong and even fragile as his, it sometimes still surprised you that Kurosawa gave in so easily to you. Back when you had still been a maiko you had often heard stories of other geisha who had struggled with him even with their skills. When you had been present with him in the same room for the first time, even you had been slightly terrified. Something about you had seemed to catch his interest in a way that no one else before you had been able to do. Since that day he had focused exclusively on you. Occasional visits to the ochaya you were working in had turned to multiple visits within a week.

"Do not misunderstand, Kurosawa-san. I feel gratitude for all the presents I have received from you. Sometimes I find myself wishing that I could dress up more beautifully, adorn myself in all the things in my possession thanks to you. However, this is not the life I have chosen to live. If I consider how I wish to be remembered after my death then it is through my skill as a geisha and not my beauty. A life of beauty is a life I do not want for myself."

"You make it sound like beauty is a terrible thing."

"Is beauty not ultimately a curse?"

It seemed like Kurosawa didn't agree with your words. The mild furrow of his brows indicated as much. His gaze pinned you, his body leaning slightly closer to you.

"What a... peculiar perspective. Would you explain?"

You carefully placed your shamisen down next to you, treating the instrument with utter care. You imagined to spot a brief spark of satisfaction as he watched you treat the gift he had asked to be crafted for you specifically with such delicacy.

"All living things die eventually. We do too. Everything fades. Beauty does too. Not every human is born with what society at large might perceive as beautiful. But even if they are, ultimately it is only a temporary condition. Over time a person ages, their skin turns wrinkly and their hair white. Their beauty gets lost in the passage of time. If beauty is all that a person has, what is left for them when nature robs them of it as the decades pass by?"

Kurosawa was someone who was beautiful. You didn't believe that anyone would disagree with you about this. A lean body, slightly wavy and raven hair and gorgeous black eyes that hadn't moved from your figure since the beginning of the night. You would be lying if you were to claim that you didn't enjoy being the apple of his eye a bit.

"Skill on the other hand can be maintained, either through natural talent or disciplined practice. As a geisha I have chosen the path of arts and skill. If I had chosen the part of beauty, I wouldn’t be here right now. But what part would have been left for me then after my beauty would have withered away like a flower in winter? If one relies on it, then there is an inevitable clock ticking for when beauty becomes a tool no longer usable. If I were to survive off of my looks, no one would want me anymore in a few years for I would have lost it. Skill has no such age limit. I can survive off of skill even in a few decades even when I am no longer young and beautiful."

Something about your words elicited something within him. You didn’t know why. Especially your last sentence had a particularly strong effect on him as if the mere thought of you aging as the years flew by offended him greatly. Red eyes darkened a shade as Kurosawa leaned closer to you, his hands on his knees.

“Do you fear death, (y/n)?”

“Fear? No, I don’t believe that I feel such a thing. Whilst I sometimes consider it pitiful that we play such little part in the overall great scheme of everything, it’s going to happen. Acceptance would be a better word to describe my feelings.”

“What if you wouldn’t have to accept death? What if you could stay young forever?”

Immortality. It was a topic you knew that Kurosawa had an almost obsessive fixation with. There had been times before where both of you had conversed about this special topic. He had never asked you so directly what your own thoughts were about it though. This was a first.

“Nature has designed for no living creature to be forever. Forsaking mortality means forsaking nature. And if you turn your back on nature, it will turn its back on you. Even if there were such a thing as immortality, I believe it would come with a heavy price.”

It was one brief moment that suddenly had the hair on your neck stand up. One odd and terrifying moment where you saw a rage you were not used to see in Kurosawa flare up within his eyes as if your words had triggered something deep within him. It disappeared as quickly as it had appeared in the end, leaving you sitting in front of him with a tense body.

Forcing your body to relax again, your gaze rested on the man who had gotten dangerously close to you. His gaze darted over your face covered in white make-up. You could tell that his mind was still reeling from your previous words, a dark bitterness tainting his gaze.

“Do you think of immortality so little?”

“Immortality is above me. Attaining it would mean shedding humanity. An immortal being is a being that has conquered death and has achieved for that a status above a human. Most commonly we refer to such high beings as gods. I am no god though. I am human. For that I can only speculate about immortality.”

Those words were what pleased Kurosawa. The glare in his gaze subdued when you delivered your explanation, instead replaced by an arrogance that wanted to be fed more.

"A god," he repeated after you, the words lingering on his tongue as if he needed to taste them to its fullest, "Would you refer to one who has reached immortality as one?"

"If one is not bound by the rules laid out by nature itself, not even death, then I believe that it is just to call them a god. A god is almighty as they are unbound by anything and for that can do whatever they want. If one is tied down by rules of nature, they are only a living being."

He had shuffled closer as if entranced by the words you spoke, his gaze pinning yours as if he was attempting to hypnotise you the same way you did him. Whatever simmering anger he had previously held had all but disappeared. You had done well to appease him. You always did.

The silence between the two of you seemed charged. One spark might just be enough to set it on fire. You didn't move, observing Kurosawa intently. Any closer and you would have to move away. As a human you too were bound by things. Desire was one of them. Your duty was another. As a geisha you had to obey the rules you had agreed to when you had chosen your path.

There was no need for you to stop him though as Kurosawa did the work for you. Realisation seeped into his features, the closeness between the two of you something he became acutely aware of. He too seemed to fight temptation for a moment, his gaze landing on your lips. Ultimately he slowly leaned away from you though with the smallest hint of discontent.

"Tomorrow night there is something that I have to sort out. I expect you in two days again."

"I will eagerly await your return then, Kurosawa-san."

---

"Mei, slow down. You must carry yourself with more elegance."

"Sorry, one-san."

She was a handful, this young shikomi. Mei was a new entry to Inoue-san's okiya and as a girl of only 15 years she still had a lot to learn if she wished to be a geisha by the end of her training. You had been asked to accompany her on this early evening, the last light of the sun slowly disappearing behind the horizon. It would be the only time for from tomorrow on she would have to find her own way through the district and be able to buy little things the geisha of your establishment needed.

Her attention was caught by an open stall selling flowers. The sound of her high sandals making her way towards the plants another noise of the busy night life that came into existence with the sky dark now. For one second you considered stopping her and reminding her that she had duties that needed to be fulfilled. When you spotted the youthful gleam in her eyes, your heart caved in. For tonight you could allow it. After all only a few years ago you had worn the same colourful kimono and the same high sandals with the little bells attached to it.

"Can you name all of them?" you asked as you joined her. The owner of the stand was currently in the process of closing everything though he stopped when both of you approached. Noticing immediately who the both of you were due to the clothes and white make-up, he gave a respectful bow.

"Camellia. Apricot blossoms. Hydrangea. Sakurasou..."

Mei started listing all of the flowers on display. Flower arrangement and for that the knowledge of what each one symbolised was currently part of her training. She did very well. All until she stumbled over a trumpet-shaped flower with white petals. That's where she came to a halt, her eyes furrowing confused. You gave her a couple of seconds yet her silence only stretched on.

"Ipomoea alba. A moonflower."

As Mei's shoulders deflated in begrudging defeat of her own lack of knowledge, your gaze was focused on the white petals of the small flower. It may not have been the biggest or most colourful one of its kind out there but you considered it to be beautiful nonetheless.

"I'll take the bouquet the lady is looking at."

The new voice surprised both of you. Mei was perhaps even a bit startled as the man who approached the two of you was a stranger to her. To you the man was very familiar though.

"Kurosawa-san. I thought that business would keep you away from me tonight."

"I was about to when I spotted you," he answered, not even acknowledging the young shikomi you had with you nor the old owner. Without even looking at him, he handed him the money before he took the moonflowers you had been admiring and handed them to you.

"You're too kind to me," you mused, your eyes reflecting the white flowers you were holding. Two of your fingers gently plucked out a few of the flowers within the bouquet, holding it up to him.

"May I?"

There was no verbal answer from his side. Yet the way his gaze travelled from the flowers you held up to your face was answer enough for you. The moonflowers were tucked into the external breast pocket of his tuxedo jacket, the white petals standing out against the dark colour he was wearing.

"Until tomorrow, Kurosawa-san."

Your footsteps carried you into the direction he had just come from. "Mei," you called softly after the young apprentice, prompting her to quickly follow you. As you walked into the distance with the young girl following your example, dark eyes followed you long after until even he with his enhanced eyesight had lost you. Only then did he force himself to move away as if his body was indeed under a spell you had cast on him. His hand reached up, feeling the petals brushing against the tips of his finger.

---

This wasn't the same woman who had entertained him the previous night. Then again, to Muzan it didn't really matter which woman would entertain him. However, this young woman who had just walked into the private room wasn't even a geisha.

"You are a maiko," he stated, his voice flat as he took in your more colourful appearance. What were they thinking, sending in someone who hadn't even finished her training yet?

"I am," you merely stated, sitting down on a cushion on the tatami floor in front of the table he was placed at. Condescending eyes mustered you unimpressed, even insulted in some ways.

"Why is a maiko like you here? Where is the geisha tutorting you?"

"She's scared of you. Everyone is. That's why I am the only one here."

"Is that so?" Muzan stated, the sound low and dangerous. His eyes narrowed, taking in your appearance with a much sharper gaze. "What about you then, little girl? Are you scared?"

You were. He could pick it up from the way that silly, little human heart within your chest picked up its speed or from the subtle way you clutched the old shamisen within your hands.

"I am."

He hadn't expected you to admit it with such confidence. After all fear and confidence were two emotions that were never meant to go together the way they had just with you.

"And yet you are still here? Why is that?"

"Because pride is on the line.”

Pride? From all answers Muzan had anticipated, this wasn’t one.

“Pride?” he repeated after you, still deciding if he should be mildly amused or irritated. Unimpressed eyes took in your appearance, all the signs that you were still in training glaring at him. From the red collar to your high sandals, you had not yet attained the rank of a geisha. Yet still you had the nerve to appear alone in front of him.

“Not necessarily my pride. But the pride of this establishment. I am well aware that your family has a long relationship with the ochaya that I live in. It’s unacceptable that a Kurosawa walks around and questions the skills of the geisha to me. What would other clients think of my one-san and everyone else if they were to hear you? There is a reputation that is at stake here.”

A thing such as bravery did not exist in Muzan’s eyes. There was only incompetence or stupidity. You little thing belonged into the latter category. A mere human was sitting in front of him and lecturing him.

“Quite brazen words for a mere apprentice. Has the geisha tutoring you utterly failed to teach you any manners to your clients?” The glare he gave you was intense, the unique eye colour of his only adding to the scariness of it. That pitiful heart of yours was throbbing within your chest yet your facial expression remained controlled, hiding any trace of fear.

“My one-san has been teaching me wonderfully. That is why I wish to make her proud. Allow me to be your company for tonight.” The deep bow that you did smoothed out some of the irritation that had been simmering within Muzan though you were far from spared just yet. You didn’t move from your current position, waiting for him to speak up. Your forehead was pressed against the tatami floor, the sight of you bowing so deeply to him speaking to him.

“If you truly believe that you can impress me, then go on. Just remember that there will be consequences if you fail.” You swallowed and it wouldn’t have been for his enhanced hearing, the sound would have remained inaudible to him. Briefly he wondered if you would cave in, crumble apart due to the stress. Instead you steeled yourself as you sat on your knees, giving him a subtle nod.

“Play for me, little Maiko.”

—-

The hushed murmurs caught your attention first. Stolen glances always drawn to the same direction. It was not your place to join such silly gossip yet as a human still you were curious. Your own gaze slowly followed the path down the street, searching for the object of all the quiet attention.

Surprisingly enough it wasn’t the black clothes- a uniform of some sorts- that caught your attention. It were the swords as well as the young appearance of the two boys. They must have been only a few years younger than you. With slow steps they made their way through the street, their heads turning in all possible directions. From their widened eyes you could only assume that they had never been here before. Perhaps they had never visited any type of bigger city before. That sentiment wasn't unfamiliar to you after all. Your birthplace had been in a small village, surrounded by rice fields.

"-ime for sightseeing, Haruto. We have to find Kurosawa Saori so we can talk to her."

You caught the words as they passed you on the streets. Words that immediately had you pause, your eyebrows furrowing in mutual confusion and surprise.

"Kurosawa Saori?" you repeated, turning around to look at the two strange boys. Hearing the name you repeated the name, both of them stopped and also turned around to face you. The boy who you had heard talking gave you a surprisingly suspicious look, observing you from head to toe thoroughly. Though you wondered why, you didn't ask. It seemed like those two weren't exactly normal boys either. At least you didn't know any boys their age carrying around katana and wearing such an unfamiliar uniform. Did they belong to a dojo?

"You know her?" he eventually questioned you carefully, his stance easing slowly as if he had just confirmed that you were of no threat to him.

"Not personally, I fear. She is the current wife of Kurosawa Masao, a very influential man in this city. However, I am familiar with their son, Kurosawa Akimitsu."

The other boy who hadn't spoken so far tilted his head, glancing at his companion. He, on the other hand, gave you a thoughtful and long look as if silently debating something within his mind.

"Rin, if she knows her son then don't you think that she could-"

"We have to be careful here, Haruto. We know too little."

What a strange conversation. There seemed to be indeed something that was going on. Years of training had taught you to not ask when one didn't want to share an answer. So you stayed quiet and instead stood there as both boys started discussing in front of you.

Rin eventually seemed to give partially in to his friend. His eyes met your patient ones, a flicker of wariness resting within them.

"Could you ask that Akimitsu-san if it would be possible for his mother to meet us? That's... probably a very strange request but don't mention us to him. His mother should know who we are if he tells her."

It was indeed a peculiar request. The purpose of this request was still in the dark for you.

"Can I trust you two?"

Rin didn't seem to take that question too well. An indignant expression crossed his face. It was his friend who put a hand on his shoulder before he could have said anything wrong.

"I know that we just met and that our request must be suspicious to you. But we are here to save lives. I can't tell you more for now."

Footsteps and voices filled the air, making up for the temporary silence that took hold over the three of you. Your gaze rested on the faces of the two boys, searching for hints of deception. There were no such traces of lies and dishonesty that you could find though.

"Alright. I shall see what I can do. Tomorrow I'll tell you what I was able to do. Where shall we meet then?"

"Are you familiar with the udon restaurant down that street?"

"I am familiar with it, yes. Then we are going to see each other again tomorrow there around the same time we met today."

---

"There's something that you want to ask."

Kurosawa's words left no room for doubt. It had not been a question. No, it had been a statement. A fact that couldn't be argued with for it was the truth. Sometimes it still surprised you just how observant he was. The sounds of the shamisen quietened as you stopped laying.

"You know me too well, I fear. What gave me away?"

"You may want to try to be more subtle with those glances you have been giving me since I arrived."

Normally you always looked at your clients to gauge their reaction and their mood. You were almost impressed to hear that he had still been able to pick up that you had been doing it more frequently during this night.

"There is indeed something that I would like to know," you began, your voice and words measured and careful. Never before had you asked anything about Kurosawa's family before. It was a not so unknown secret that there had been a time where he hadn't gotten along with his parents at all. All of that had changed about a year ago though when he had returned from a trip. That's what you had heard at least. From the lazy and unwilling man that his past had made him out to be, you knew little of.

"I was wondering how your parents are doing, Kurosawa-san?"

Silence. Not an awkward one. Not a relaxed one either. No, a silence that was tense and thick enough that someone could have touched it with a knife. Against your will you could feel your own heart starting to beat faster as the tension in the room seeped into your own body. Dark eyes gazed at you with a weight that you swore you could feel on your shoulders. Something dangerous flickered somewhere within those orbs, something you couldn't identify for it was gone too quickly.

"What an unusual question. Since when have my parents been of any interest to you?"

"There are of no personal interest to me, Kurosawa-san. I have heard words on the street though who have been wondering about it. Your parents haven't shown their faces in a while."

It was vague enough for the identity of those boys to remain a secret yet still enough to hopefully get an answer out of Kurosawa. First of all you had to endure that scrutinising gaze of his. Something that was harder to brush off than that weak glare that the boy had given you earlier today. This was far more intense.

"Is there someone who would wish to speak to them?"

"I don't know. I couldn't tell."

Lying was something you wouldn't do. You couldn't do it either even if you wanted to. Some people could just tell if someone was lying or not. Whilst you were quite good in not showing any emotions that could give you away, from past experiences you knew that Kurosawa could tell quickly if you were directly lying to him or not. Half-truths would have to do.

"My parents are currently on a trip. They most likely won't return for a while."

That was new to you. Sure, you had rarely interacted with his parents. Most familiar to you was Kurosawa Masao for he had often visited this ochaya. That had been before you had been even a maiko though so you only really knew him from stories older geisha had told you. Akimitsu was the only man from the family that you were very familiar with.

Yet given the importance of his family for this city you had expected to have heard at the very least about a trip his parents were taking. However, you had heard not even one person talk about this before.

"This is new to me. Then you must currently take care of most of the business, Kurosawa-san."

"It's nothing, really."

Oh, so dismissive. You had no doubt that he had everything under control. Still, he was only human.

"You should still look out for yourself. You may not worry but I do."

Initially it seemed like he intended to debunk your concern. However, he fell silent when your eyes met once more. The concern in them was real. Perhaps it would have been easier for him to speak back if your worries had only lied in the money you earned through his regular visits and the debt you were able to pay off thanks to it. As you had known him the longest though you had formed a certain attachment to him. Far from what others liked to gossip about but a bond was there nevertheless.

Realising that his silence meant his defeat, he tore his gaze away from yours. Instead his glare focused on the tatami floor. You on the other hand knew that it would be best to not continue a conversation unless he started it. You had gotten the information you had promised to deliver. it would be disappointing for the two boys but that was all that you could do. So you started playing the strings of the instrument again, only fleetingly glancing at Kurosawa.

It was only the melody that beat the quietness otherwise. Until Kurosawa had gathered himself enough to speak to you again.

"(y/n)..."

"Yes?"

"You should be careful with what you involve yourself with."

Almost, but only almost, did you misplay your shamisen when those ominous words registered within your mind. Your eyes shot up, looking at the man sitting in front of you. Kurosawa did not meet your gaze as he instead focused on the cup of sake in his hands. Perhaps that was for the better as you couldn't suppress the queasy feeling that manifested somewhere within the pit of your stomach nor the short gleam of uncertainty in your eyes. As quickly as it came, it was smothered beneath your acting skills. Only your heartbeat gave away the emotional frenzy his warning had left on you. It wasn't like he could hear that though.

---

"On a trip?? So she isn't even here??"

The reaction was about what you had expected. After all those boys had travelled such a long way only to find out that the woman they had undertaken this journey for wasn't even here at the moment. You found it strange though. If Kurosawa Saori had been awaiting them why would she have left in the first place? So many questions yet so little answers.

"Rin, what do we do now?"

Haruto seemed to take it at least better than his friend did. Still, he didn't know either what to do now that you had given them the answer. Instead he looked at the boy for guidance.

The question at least managed to get Rin to contemplate instead of silently drowning in frustration. Dark eyes darted over the ground in the same speed he must have considered the options and possibilities.

"Could you try to ask Kurosawa-san for some more information?"

"I fear I can't. As a geisha I entertain. I don't interrogate my customers, especially not my most loyal one. This is all that I can do."

You doubted that Kurosawa would be willing to talk about his parents again. His reaction from the previous night had shown you that for reasons unknown to you, he still didn't seem to fond of his parents. If that relationship was troubling him then it wasn't your job to dig deeper than necessary. In the back of your mind his strange warning still rang clearly just as much.

On the other hand you couldn't quite ignore those two either. Whilst you didn't plan to assist too much as their intentions were still unknown to you, you didn't believe them to have anything dangerous in mind. Their desire to help was clear though you wondered what could be the cause for that desire to be so strong.

"The only advice that I could give you now is to visit their mansion and ask the staff. That's the most that I can offer as help now."

"You know where they live?"

There was some sort of hope in that question now as two pairs of eyes looked at you expectantly.

"I know indeed. Their mansion lies on the outskirts of the city. You will know when you see it. There are always servants tending to the place so you should find someone who can eventually help you more."

"Which way?"

"The opposite way from which we just came from," you answered, pointing your arm down the road ahead of you. Rin gave you a sharp nod, adjusting the belt which held his katana before he bowed to you.

"Then we will be on our way. Thank you very much for your assistance, (l/n)-san."

Haruto followed his example, mimicking Rin as he too bowed in front of you and thanked you.

"Thank you very much. And please be careful at night, (l/n)-san."

"It was my pleasure. I wish that you succeed on the task that both of you came here for."

With your words, the two of them made their way to the other side of the city. Out of courtesy you stood in the same spot, watching them until they had disappeared between the people. Only then did you make your way back, lingering for just a moment longer on what it was both of them were here for.

---

He was uncharacteristically late. In all the time you had known Kurosawa, he had always been on time. Never before had he been late. Tonight was a first. You didn't want to dwell on it too long though. Instead you focused on the other customers for now, using the time that you suddenly had by playing for and entertaining other visitors.

Your eyes strayed over to the entrance once every minute, waiting for his arrival. Silently you slowly started wondering what it was that could have led to such an unusual situation. Perhaps your behavior the other day had angered him more than you had anticipated. Or perhaps a matter had arosen that was independent from you and you were wondering needlessly if it was your fault. Your nerves shouldn't get the better of you.

Kurosawa arrived almost half an hour too late. You spotted him only once your gaze drifted to the entrance, catching the sight of him standing quietly there. Dark eyes were watching you playing. A subtle bow of your head was the only acknowledge that you could give him at that moment as you were still playing on your shamisen and weren't finished yet with the melody. To your pleasant surprise Kurosawa let you continue, leaning against the wall as he waited for you to be done.

Only once the last notes had been played did you stand up with the instrument in your hands and made your way over to him.

"Kurosawa-san."

"I apologise for being late. There was some important things that had to be done."

"Do not apologise. You are a busy man. It is an honor to know that you make as frequently time for me as you do."

"Indeed. You seem to have that effect on me."

As both of you made your way to a private room, you couldn't help but notice that tonight Kurosawa appeared to be quite different. Yesterday's displeasure and frustration had vanished, replaced by confident strides and an air of accomplishment. Something good must have happened today for him to be in such a high mood.

"(y/n). Sit down."

You paused your movements, your eyes focusing on his figure. Kurosawa had already sat down and was now gesturing for you to sit down next to him. Usually you would sit away from him and play your shamisen. Today he seemed to have a different plan though.

Slowly you moved down, sitting closer to him though not as close as he had probably wanted. A fact he noticed if you had to judge from the pointed glare he gave the gap existing between him and you. There were no comments about it made though as he silently seemed to tolerate it. Now your attention was on him, differently from the usual routine both of you had.

One of his hands reached into the inside of the coat he was wearing, pulling out a longer packet. He put it down on the table before he slid it over to your side. You stared at it for a few moments before your eyes met his.

"Another present for me? Is it an apology for being late tonight?"

"Such a clever woman. This present is the reason why I was late. Open it. I want you to see what has kept me busy tonight and led to me being unable to come on time."

That sparked a bit of your curiosity. So he had been working on something. You carefully untied the ribbon that had been wrapped around the wooden packet, aware of the way his eyes followed your moves closely. He seemed to be very eager.

The moment you lifted the lid and saw what was inside, your heartbeat froze for a few seconds. A dreadful sensation of cold horror seeped through your veins, only worsening the longer you stared at the pair of eyes that was neatly placed inside the box. A pair of not unfamiliar eyes.

"I must say that I am still quite displeased. I warned you to not get involved in anything that isn't of your concern yet still you went out of your way to meet those two boys. However, I am also grateful. You've sent them directly to me. I didn't have to bother sending another demon out to find them and kill them."

Slowly your heart started to unfreeze from the horror, the rapid beating of it ringing in your ears. His words reached you even through the shock that you were experiencing, a dreadful picture slowly being painted within your mind.

"They were just as unsightly to witness in their final moments as the entire Kurosawa family. Weak. Pathetic. Ugly. Every single one of them."

What?

Finally you managed to tear away your gaze from the lifeless eyes staring back at you, your heart in your throat as you gazed into a face that had never appeared more unfamiliar before. The entire Kurosawa family. Dead. If that was the truth...

"What are you?"

The corner of the man's lips twitched up, revealing sharp teeth that your heart plummeting. Bones started cracking, clothes started to burst at their seams as you could only watch with a closed throat how his body started convulsing in front of you. What had previously been a lean bodybuild gained within only seconds muscles that tore the clothes apart before absorbing the fabric and sprouting a new fit that covered him. You could see veins crawling all over skin that turned sickly pale, a dark gaze turning crimson red.

Your lips parted, inhaling a harsh suck of air. Your body prepped itself to release a scream that you couldn't hold back anymore only for the hands of the monster in front of you to cover your mouth. Sharp nails scratched your cheeks, not enough for them to bleed but for you to become very aware of how easily he could kill you.

Hot breath fawned over your face, only enabling the tears that had gathered in your eyes already. He was far too close for you to even attempt to hide the tremors that had taken control of your body. Short hair grew out, turning wavy and framing a new face.

"Scream once and I'll slaughter everyone in this ochaya."

It was not merely a threat. It was a promise. If you were to make a single peep, everyone here would die. You didn't immediately nodded. You feared that you wouldn't be able to control the sounds escaping your lips. So you stayed still, let his hand cover your mouth with a grip that had your jaw aching. Only once you felt safe enough to hold onto your composure did you slowly nod.

Only your stuttering breaths filled the room as you forced yourself through the waves of terror that wanted to make your body cry and sob in fear.

"Have you come to kill me too then?"

Were you staring your death into the eyes right now? As a clawed hand reached out for you, your mind started going through memories of your past. There were not too many. You hadn't lived that long after all. Death came for every living being. However, it stung so much more knowing that it wasn't through time's hands but through the hands of another.

"How utterly insulting. After all the money I have spent on you, the time I dedicated to you and the people I have killed for you, you still accuse me of such a thing?"

You were not going to die. Yet the relief was very little as his finger tilted up your chin, forcing you to look into those crimson eyes. If he wasn't going to kill you then his intention was another.

"Then what have you come here for?"

"For you, obviously. I've always come for you. You have bewitched me. You. A human."

Your heart was only contained by your ribcage or else you feared it would have long escaped your chest. Death would not come for you after all yet you found little comfort in that at the moment. Not with the way crimson eyes stared at you as if you were mere prey.

"So under your spell was I that I even abode by human traditions. Courting you, waiting for an answer, giving you a choice. I almost succumbed to such insignificant notions. What was I even thinking? I am no mortal. I am a god, unbound by anything. Such were your words."

Unbridled satisfaction oozed from his eyes as if he had discovered a freedom that had been denied from him for far too long. It made you nauseous, listening to him speaking.

“I love you. You’re mine. And I’ll kill any bastard who tries to take you away from me.”

"Kurosa-" you paused yourself. That name was a habit. Far too often had you spoken the name of a man you knew had been dead ever since you had first started attending to the man in front of you. There had never been a Kurosawa Akimitsu. There had ever only been the monster in disguise.

"How impolite of me. I forgot to introduce myself to you properly. I'm Kibutsuji Muzan."

That name didn't sound familiar to you in the slightest. Yet you knew that this man was the reason the two boys had travelled into this city. Only to meet their ends through a fault of yours. He would have killed them in either case. He had told you so. But you had foolishly sent them into an early demise by letting them walk directly into the devil's den. Now you found yourself in a very similar situation.

"Kibutsuji-san. What do you plan to do with me now?"

Your formal words in the face of this situation made him arch an eyebrow. How fascinating. Even in the face of his true self and despite the fear he could so clearly smell on you, you still chose to hold your head high.

"Still as formal as ever. There should be no need to refer to my by my surname though. I'll allow you the privilege of calling me by my first name."

You didn't move when his hand, as cold as the death he brought with him, cupped your cheek in an uncanny motion of tenderness. You knew those subtle touches. Kurosawa had used them even when his real self had been hidden from your eyes.

"Nakime."

You had no time to wonder whom he was calling out. As the sound of a cord being played struck the room, the ground beneath you disappeared. This time he didn't stop you as a scream tore through your throat as you fell. Your mind spun, no ground in sight as the world around you seemed to follow no rules of gravity nor the concept of directions. You could have probably fallen for eternity in this strange world if it wouldn't have been for him grabbing you by your waist and pulling you closer to his body.

"Welcome to my Infinity Castle, (y/n)."