Kazuya Shibuya groaned and slammed his book shut.

He'd been rereading the same sentence over and over again for thirty full minutes. For the last couple of minutes, he hadn't even really been reading. It was as though he'd gotten so lost in his own mind, he'd somehow forgotten to read Russian Cyrillic. And that was one of his better languages, too. Kazuya flinched. His logistical mind refused to block out the reason he so dreaded to think about: Mai. Ever since he met her, this had been happening.

He'd be reading, when a metaphor or word would suddenly bring her to mind. It made no sense. The words weren't even relevant to Mai. Yet suddenly Kazuya would see her in his mind, with that smile of hers that he dreaded. He dreaded it because it did something to him. It made him inhale and his heart rate quicken. And though his logic knew what that meant, his heart knew what that was before his mind did. Kazuya Shibuya did not use his heart. He had been beginning to doubt if it was even there. His mind was stable. His logic was flawless. If he used them, he did not make mistakes. Kazuya hated to make mistakes and he hated to be wrong. That meant he wasn't perfect.

But when Mai looked at him, sometimes, the desire to be perfect faded from all thoughts. And he felt the faintest stir of something he had not felt in ten years…

Love.

It terrified him. Love was illogical and there were too many mistakes one could make. There were so many twists and turns. Love unpredictable. There was no book to study and no guide to read in any language to make sure he wouldn't end up destroyed and alone. Kazuya sighed and looked out of the office window. It was raining softly. The sound could not soothe the strange twang of pain coursing through him. He knew all too well that love had a dark component to it. One forgotten day, one wrong word and Kazuya's torn heart would be shredded deeper. So why, then, did his heart ignore all logic and fall in love?

Kazuya stood slowly, swallowed, and put his book away. Then he sat down again, motionless and thoughtful.

There was a time, long ago, when Kazuya Shibuya had actually written poetry. Back before his heart had become a nuisance to him. Ah, the long gone days where emotion had been a strength. It seemed impossible to him now, reading over his old poems, that they'd ever been his. And he'd burned all of them, every last one he could find. Yet without his consent, his hands had found their way to a pen and paper. He paused and bit his lip. Write Mai Taniyama a poem? Was that safe? Was that logical? What on Earth would she think, receiving a love poem out of the blue like this? It was too big of a risk.

Yet he found that even as he was thinking it, he was already writing to her.

After he finished, he stared at his handiwork in horror. No. This was not good. This wasn't nearly good enough for Mai. She deserved the best. Then he realized what he was thinking, and he swore silently. He was being such an idiot. He had a career, he was doing something that kept his mind entertained – he was almost happy, and now it was all about to be ruined just because he'd fallen for Mai. He wasn't even sure why he loved her, and here his heart was ready to proclaim his feelings. It was such a risk to try and enter a relationship with anyone at all, let alone someone who was such a polar opposite of him.

And he knew from experience how badly taking risks of the heart could turn out.

With a sigh, Kazuya stood up and folded the poem. Quickly, he placed it in his pocket and exited the building. His own 'poetry' sounded so cheesy to him. As if Mai would have taken him seriously anyway. After all, he was 'Naru'. Narcissistic. Vain. Self-absorbed. He wondered how she'd feel if he told her that every time she called him that, it felt like he was nothing but a problem. Not only in her life, but in life in general. The name reassured him he was nothing.

Kazuya didn't feel the now heavy rain pelt him. All he felt was a struggle inside. He had to keep these things to himself. That was who he was, after all. That was how he distanced people like her. His throat felt like it was caught. Was he nothing but irritating to her? Could he be mistaking those smiles and looks for something they weren't? He felt almost angry at himself. Would he always be her Naru, her annoying boss with the strange attitude toward life? His logical mind believed so. But his heart, somewhere deep down inside, wanted to believe he'd be something else. Something with some significance.

That night, he tried to burn the poem.

But for some reason, he couldn't. If it had only been some other girl, any other woman. He could block out anyone he wanted to. Naru could be a glacier when he wanted it. But that glacier melted when Mai was near. It was so strange. Kazuya could shoot down most people with a remark or a gesture. But never Mai. She could dish it out when she wanted to. She was a challenge; a strangling he longed to figure out. She had invaded his heart the second he saw her. And if he burned that poem, it'd be like burning her.

And since he hadn't had any luck freezing her, fire probably wouldn't work either.