underground, nagi seishiro ✓

𖥻 11

with a strange feeling in your stomach, you knock on the door of your father's office, still not knowing why he seems to be angry with you.

after talking to yoichi on the phone, you let him pick you up.

you walked a long way to get out of the shabby neighborhood so that he wouldn't get suspicious.

yeah, you can trust yoichi, but you don't want to take any risks — especially not when it comes to the well being of seishiro. he had accompanied you on the way and waited with you until yoichi's car could be seen in the distance, then quickly disappeared. he hadn't spoken a single word to you the whole time, hadn't even given you a glance, just acted as if you weren't there.

"come in!" you hear your father's muffled voice from inside the room.

taking another deep breath, you push down the door handle and step into your father's rather modern and luxurious office.

he always had good taste. the black furniture harmonizes wonderfully with the partly white and gray walls + there are also a few antique decorations, just like everywhere else in the house. in addition, the two outrageously expensive paintings decorate the walls.

your gaze immediately falls on meguru, who, oddly enough, is sitting on one of the chairs in front of the huge desk. his big hands resting elegantly on the leans next to him, he begins to grin when he sees you, but this time you immediately notice that it's not a nice and loving smile.

it's vicious, mean, nasty; all the bad words you could say. there's something diabolical, no, even predatory about it.

immediately his words echo in your mind, the ones he said that night you had a date.

and don't think there won't be consequences.

"please sit down, y/n," your father says sternly, and even though it doesn't sound like a request, you know it's not a request, it's an order.

you won't get away with it today and the fact that meguru is here shows you even more that it's not good news.

timidly, you sit down on the chair next to him, putting your sweaty hands in your lap. your gaze is directed downward and seems to stick there, even though you know better than to ignore your father's gaze.

it's a kind of resistance or rebellion; the only kind you can manage at this moment.

"do you want to tell us where you've been sneaking around the last few days and who you've been meeting with?" your father asks, after a few seconds of dead silence and no one speaking.

it was so quiet that you even tried to control your breathing so that it wouldn't be too loud and interrupt the calm before the storm.

your eyes widened as your head jerked up and you looked at first your father and then at meguru, stunned.

so you were right.

he told him because you didn't respect his presence and person.

or was it for another reason?

"i don't know what you're talking about or what you're getting at," you turn your head back to your father, looking him steadfastly in the eyes, trying miserably not to tremble under his gaze or let any kind of emotion surface.

your father knows you well, he's a judge of character and a pro at seeing if someone is lying or telling the truth.

and you're definitely not telling the truth.

"oh, is that so? and how are you going to explain that?" meguru reaches into the inside pocket of his jeans.

with narrowed eyebrows, you watch him pull something out of it, then slap it down on the table in front of you.