Chizuru stood at the doorway, holding an envelope between two fingers, waving it in front of Kazama's face.

He knew exactly what was in her hands, but heartbreak and cranes flew around his mind right now.

"I'll give it to you on one condition," she said, her smile growing. "Let me help you."

Kazama snatched it from her, so quick and sharp it almost gave her a paper cut. She squeaked in defeat, while Kazama's crimson eyes burned into her. There was no lightness to them. No hint of joke.

The letter was serious business, and he didn't want anything fucking up his chances.

He rubbed his temples, trying to figure out how the fraternity mixed his address with hers, but luckily his letter fell into her hands instead of one of the boys she lived with. He scoffed at the thought of those Shinsengumi nerds.

Kazama examined the envelope, eyes wide, fingers lightly touching the name handwritten in calligraphy.

He turned it over, carefully peeling the red wax embossed on the paper. He held it closer to his face, inspecting the symbol that melted into the wax. It was a dragon.

Holy shit, it really was from them.

He pulled back the top of the envelope and sucked his teeth. The seal had already been broken. He let out a sigh and his gaze dropped to a fidgety Chizuru.

He didn't need to say anything. She already knew what she was guilty of and her big brown eyes slowly looked back at him, apologizing for her.

Kazama was a master of controlling his emotions, at least around Chizuru. But mail-tampering was a direct violation of privacy—a pet-peeve of his—and Kazama's ears were getting redder by the second.

Chizuru grabbed the envelope from his hands and shoved the front up to his eyes. "Look at your name," she said, her finger making invisible lines underneath the name.

"Hmm." There was a silent agreement between them.

It wasn't her fault that the chicken-scratched penmanship made "Chikage" looked like "Chizuru." Who the fuck addresses him with his first name? There weren't other Kazamas at the school. And if there were other Kazamas, he'd know them.

Whoever wrote it ought to get kicked out. Amateur.

The question now was how did the mix-up happen. Chizuru lived in the Shinsengumi Clubhouse, next to all the other fraternity houses on campus. Kazama had his own apartment, a luxury he could afford.

Yet the exclusive and extremely secretive initiation letter was delivered to the wrong fucking place.

Kazama had been waiting over three years to be invited to the Omega Nu Iota fraternity. His father was an ONI. His grandfather was an ONI. His great-grandfather was an ONI. Hell, his great-great grandfather was an ONI president.

It wasn't like getting a Hogwarts letter and you're automatically an ONI.

Kazama removed the letter and glossed over the heavy parchment—a nice touch—and his eyes darted to each handwritten bullet point.

Chizuru watched him quietly as he muttered to himself, repeating the list over and over. He opened the door wider, motioning her to come in without looking away from the letter.

She was already familiar with his apartment, taking her shoes off and headed to his gray sectional.

She looked around the room, her eyes stopping at a framed painting of a cherry blossom tree.

Chizuru felt her cheeks warming. She couldn't suppress the smile growing on her face, and silently, she kept repeating the words "He kept it."

Kazama cleared his throat, bringing her attention back to him.

"Did you read this?" Kazama asked, flopping at the opposite end of his couch, narrowing his eyes at Chizuru. She gasped, dramatically. "Of course not," she emphasized each word slowly, as if it would convince him. Kazama's face remained blank. Five seconds of silence passed between them and Chizuru's lips trembled with the truth.

"Okay, okay, I did," she confessed. Kazama shook his head, and the corners of his lips pulled up slightly. It amused him at her failing efforts to lie.

"Let me help you," she said, whisper-quiet like it was a secret.

And it was a secret. The first rule was blatant, mentioned at the beginning of the letter and repeated at the end: you talk, you walk.

And here was Chizuru, sitting on his couch, relentless with her request, not giving a shit about rules at all.

They haven't been this close since last year, since they stopped hanging out after she rejected his proposal and began dating that stupid English TA Hijikata. Women really do drop their panties for poetry.

He inhaled deeply, eyebrows furrowed, running a hand through his blonde hair. "No."

Chizuru pouted, but her brown eyes remained bright. She moved closer to Kazama's side and nudged her knee against his. "Please?"

He met her gaze. Shit, that was a mistake. A warm feeling rushed into his body like a bolt of lightning. He was ready to say no. Ready to let her go again and focus on the list and become an ONI.

But she was sitting so close to him and the smell of sweet dango—her favorite snack—tickled his nose. Her signature scent. It was welcoming, oh-so-familiar and memories wafted back into his thoughts.

Maybe he wasn't ready to let her go.

"Why?" he asked, unsure if her answer even mattered at this point.

Chizuru had a way of controlling Kazama—on purpose or not. At first, when they were 16, he blamed his hormones for his uncontrollable attraction to her. In a room, full of boring business men talking about acquisitions and mergers, there was really nothing else to do but stare at the pretty heiress of the Yukimura company. His father didn't need to force him to sit in at meetings anymore especially when Chizuru was around. Kazama didn't need a room full of lawyers, accountants and hedge fund brokers to tell him that marrying Chizuru was a good deal.

"You know Kaoru was recruited last year," she said, lifting her legs off the ground, hugging her knees. Kazama's face dropped at the sound of Chizuru's twin brother's name. The pressure to take over the family business was overwhelming, something Kazama could relate to, and Kaoru faced it with drugs. Kazama wasn't close to Kaoru, but during the times that they did hang out, they both talked about becoming an ONI.

"He went missing during his initiation," she said, voice trembling. Kazama remembered reading the headlines: Yukimura Heir Overdosed. The police found him with a vial in his hands, some new drug called Ochimizu—promising its user "a new life." Kaoru's death had brought so much scandal to the Yukimura business, the company crumbled and was sold off to pieces.

Kazama wrapped his arm around Chizuru, pulling her closer. She buried her face underneath his shoulder, and he could feel his sweater damping.

"Please let me do this with you," she mumbled into his chest, her cheek pressing into his heart.

It wasn't a question, but at this point, his answer didn't matter.