"Slavery," Arisa said casually.
Kaito froze.
"You're serious?"
"Dead serious."
His expression darkened. He stood up from the pizzeria table and walked out without another word.
"Hey! You're just leaving like that?" she called after him.
"I'm not in the mood to dissect your moral compass over pizza," he shot back, not even turning around.
She caught up to him.
"Well, dissect it on the way. I'm coming with you."
"Why?"
"I don't know. Got a feeling you'll get hit by a truck or something—and I wanna see if you'd deflect it with a dart."
He looked at her sideways.
"Your priorities are... fascinating."
"Thank you. Yours could use some work, hero."
---
They walked through the city in silence. The hotel was just a few blocks away, but the quiet stretched far beyond the distance.
Kaito glanced at her now and then. She just walked calmly beside him, hands in her pockets, head slightly lowered.
"You know..." he said eventually.
"Hm?"
"I don't get why you're being nice to me. You tease me, sure, but... you still came."
"Nice? That's what you think this is? Damn, I must be doing something wrong."
He chuckled. First time since the restaurant.
"But seriously."
"Maybe because I don't want you going through all this alone," she said softly. Then she smirked. "Or maybe I'm just waiting for you to say something stupid again so I can write it down."
"You'll need a thick notebook."
"I'm hoping for a full novel."
---
He opened the door to his room, hoping to shut out the entire day.
But Arisa slipped in before regrets could catch up.
"Not fancy, but we'll survive," she muttered and threw herself on the bed.
"I don't remember inviting you in."
"And I don't remember you saying I couldn't."
He stared at her for a moment. Then sat down at the desk, elbows on knees, head in hands.
"You realize if I lose, I won't be anything. Just a tool."
"You realize I probably care about you more than I should?"
He slowly turned. Their eyes met.
Then Arisa stood and took out her phone.
"Come on. Kurumi's up next. I wanna see what kind of lunatic he's fighting."
"You're into this match?"
"Nope. But I'm into you."
She placed the phone between them and sat down beside him.
---
The screen showed a top-down view.
Kurumi stood still—almost disinterested. He toyed with his darts between his fingers with casual elegance. But Gideon, his opponent, looked like a coiled spring. Broad shoulders. A stance made for battle, not sport.
"That Gideon guy looks like he'd punch your face before throwing a dart," Arisa muttered.
"And Kurumi? Looks like he'd let him—and then just clean his glasses."
They both laughed.
The match began.
Gideon threw first. Fast and precise. Three triple nines. The crowd roared.
Kurumi didn't even blink.
First dart – Triple 20. Second – Triple 20. Third...
"He won't..." Kaito whispered.
"He will," Arisa cut in.
Triple 20.
"Damn," Kaito exhaled.
"Told you. He'll erase you without even blinking."
Kaito noticed she went quiet for a moment. She stared at the screen, but her thoughts were somewhere else.
"You okay?" he asked.
She smiled faintly, but it lacked its usual bite.
"I know that look. Kurumi isn't playing just to win. He's chasing something darker. I know what it's like—when what drives you isn't greatness, but something else. Something you need to prove. To yourself. Or someone else."
The match continued. Gideon tried to keep up, but Kurumi was flawless. Silent. Precise. Ruthless. By the end, the outcome was clear.
Kurumi turned to Gideon, who stood defeated, breathing heavy.
He lowered his head, leaned toward the board, and spoke barely above a whisper:
"Where is your motivation?"