"It doesn't look good."
Daiki's deep voice cut through the silence like a sharp blade.
He stood with furrowed brows, arms crossed as he stared down at the printed manuscript of Ayaka's latest novel draft.
The fluorescent office lighting flickered slightly above them, casting harsh shadows over the page.
"What do you mean?" Ayaka asked, her voice rising defensively as she leaned forward from her chair.
Her eyes burned with disbelief. "That's Akihiko there!"
Daiki slowly lifted his gaze from the manuscript, his expression flat and unimpressed. "I don't recall Akihiko being flirtatious. Or arrogant, for that matter." His brows rose, challenging her. "Unless we're thinking of a different Akihikos?"
Ayaka blinked, stunned. "H-he does!" she stammered. "I mean—not all the time, but he can be! You just don't see it!"
He arched a single brow. "So now I'm blind?"
"I didn't say that!"
"You implied it."
Ayaka groaned in frustration, pacing across the length of Daiki's cluttered office. "Why are you so fixated on this? The character's charming, mysterious, a little cocky—but that's the point! He's supposed to be irresistible!"
Daiki calmly removed his glasses and cleaned them with the edge of his shirt. "And I'm telling you—this version? It reads like a poorly written lead. Change it."
"No." she snapped, standing her ground.
"Then your book is cancelled." Daiki's tone turned icy as he placed the manuscript on his desk and pushed it away.
"I won't read another page if this is what you're planning to submit. Hmph." He crossed his arms, leaned back in his chair, and turned his chair away in a dismissive spin.
Ayaka stood frozen for a second, mouth agape. "Ugh! Why is my editor-in-chief being so dramatic?" she growled, throwing her hands in the air.
Daiki didn't respond.
He simply sipped from his coffee like a mafia boss issuing a final warning.
Ayaka stormed out of the office, muttering curses under her breath.
Her heels clacked furiously down the hallway as she headed back to her own office.
Once inside, she dropped into her chair and stared blankly at her laptop screen.
The cursor blinked mockingly at her, positioned beside the name of the character clearly—painfully—modeled after Akihiko.
She groaned and buried her face in her hands. "Why can't I get it right?" she whispered, tugging at her hair in exasperation.
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, but her mind was blank.
She leaned back in her chair and muttered to the ceiling, "…should I ask him?"
The silence echoed around her.
"No!" She slapped her cheeks lightly and shook her head, as if trying to physically shake the idea away. "Don't give in! I don't need his help. I refuse."
Still, no new words came.
The afternoon dragged on, and the blank screen remained untouched.
The only thing she accomplished was draining three cups of coffee and scribbling nonsense in her notebook margins.
------
Later, just as the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in streaks of gold and plum, Ayaka stood at the bus stop, hunched in her coat and lost in thought.
Her phone rang suddenly, vibrating in her pocket. She jolted, quickly pulling it out.
"Kei?" she answered, surprised.
"Hey, Ayaka…" Her older brother's voice sounded sheepish. "Can you do me a favor?"
"Depends. What is it?" she replied warily.
"Can you, uh… pick up my bag from Akihiko's office? At the hospital?"
Ayaka blinked. "Huh? No way!" Her voice cracked with instant resistance. "Ask someone else!"
"Please, my dear little sister?" Kei begged with that singsong voice he used whenever he needed something. "It has my meeting notes for tomorro—super important. And I'm already halfway out of Tokyo!"
Ayaka scoffed. "Then maybe you should've remembered your bag before leaving!"
"I forgot, alright? Akihiko was with me earlier, and I left it in his office while we were going over the charts. It's a simple favor. Just grab the bag and drop it off at my apartment. I really really need it!"
"Why don't you ask Akihiko to bring it?"
"He can't. He's on-call. I'm counting on you!" Kei's voice turned desperate. "You're my only hope! Please and thank you! I promise I'll buy you your favorite dessert!"
And with that, he hung up.
Ayaka stared at the screen, aghast. "Did he just—?!"
The phone went silent in her hand.
"Great. Just great." She sighed, slumping. "Now I have to see him."
As if on cue, the bus hissed to a stop in front of her.
She boarded with a dramatic groan and dropped into a seat by the window, scowling at the cityscape rolling past.
Her reflection in the glass frowned back at her.
This day could not get any worse.
Ayaka stepped into Tokyo Medical Center, the automatic doors sliding open with a hiss.
The smell of antiseptic and quiet urgency hit her immediately.
Nurses and doctors bustled around, voices low and professional.
She made her way through the pristine white corridors, hugging her coat tighter, heart thudding in an anxious rhythm.
The closer she got to Akihiko's office, the louder her thoughts became.
"Just grab the bag. In. Out. Don't start anything."
But as she reached his door, something inside her cracked.
Her editor's words echoed in her mind.
"This version? It reads like a poorly written lead."
Her fingers curled into fists.
'No. I need this book to work. I need him.'
She knocked once, twice.
No answer.
But the door was unlocked.
Ayaka pushed it open and stepped inside.
The office was dimly lit, with golden light from the desk lamp casting long shadows.
Papers were neatly stacked, a few medical journals strewn about.
And there he was—Akihiko, the Ice Prince himself—seated on the black leather couch, flipping through a patient file with one long leg crossed over the other.
His silver hair shimmered in the soft glow, his white coat draped lazily over his dark button-up.
His gaze slid to her slowly, as if he'd already known she was coming.
"I thought I told Kei I was on-call." he murmured, eyes cool and unreadable.
Ayaka's mouth went dry. "He said you couldn't leave… so he sent me."
"Of course he did." He set the file aside and stood up, towering over her in one smooth motion.
He moved with that quiet confidence that always made her breath hitch, even when she desperately didn't want it to.
Ayaka's gaze darted to the bag sitting on the side table. "That's all I came for."
"Mm." Akihiko didn't move to hand it to her.
Silence stretched between them.
Tense.
Heavy.
Ayaka took a deep breath. "Actually… I need your help."
His brow lifted, intrigued.
She hesitated, then stepped forward. "It's about my book. The one I'm working on now—the character that's… sort of based on you."
Akihiko tilted his head, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. "So you admit it."
Her cheeks flushed. "Don't get cocky."
He said nothing, simply waiting.
Ayaka swallowed. "Mr. Takahashi said it doesn't feel authentic. That the character's too arrogant, too flirtatious… and I guess—"
"You guessed wrong especially on the part where I'm flirtatious. Since when did I become flirtatious?" he interrupted, crossing the space between them until they were mere inches apart. "Anyway, you want to make him feel real?"
Her heart pounded. "Yes."
"Then I'll help you." Akihiko said smoothly, voice low and cool—but there was something dangerous curling beneath the surface. "On one condition."
Ayaka narrowed her eyes. "What condition?"
He leaned in, his breath brushing her cheek. "While you write him… I'll supervise."
Her brows drew together. "Supervise?"
"You'll write in front of me. I'll be there every session. Every scene." His voice dropped, deliciously slow. "You'll do exactly as I say. No complaints. No revisions unless I approve. Understood?"
Her mouth fell open. "That's ridiculous! You're not my editor!"
"No." he murmured, brushing past her toward the window. "But I am your inspiration, aren't I?"
Ayaka's hands clenched. "You can't just—control everything like that!"
He turned back to her, blue eyes glinting with amusement. "Then no new book."
The words struck like a whip.
She gaped at him. "You're seriously going to blackmail me into writing under your surveillance?!"
He stepped close again, fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.
"Call it... immersion. I want to see how well you can capture me, Ayaka." His tone dipped into a seductive whisper. "But only if you're willing to surrender a little control."
Her skin burned where he touched her.
Her breath hitched.
"You're insane." she muttered.
"Possibly." he replied, eyes gleaming. "But you need me."
She hated how right he was.
Ayaka looked away, jaw tense. "Fine. One week."
Akihiko gave a soft chuckle. "One week to submit. One week under me."
"Under your supervision." she corrected, flustered.
"Mm. Same thing." he said, lips curving wickedly.
Ayaka snatched Kei's bag, cheeks burning. "Don't make me regret this."
"I'll make you regret not starting sooner." he said behind her as she turned to leave.
The heat crawling up her neck nearly exploded.