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Yuma brightens. “He said you’d come to us first anyway.”

Akira reaches into the side drawer of the table and pulls out a folder.

He sets it on the glass between us and taps it once. “This is all the information you need.”

Yuma looks at him fondly. “You’ve been waiting all afternoon to do that.” Akira glares at him. I smile and take the folder. “How much of this did Father know before you organized it for him?” I ask.

Akira lifts one shoulder. “Enough.”

“Meaning you did half his work.”

“I refined it.”

Yuma beams. “He stayed up late doing it.”

Akira closes his eyes briefly, as if patience is a limited resource and Yuma is personally committed to draining it.

I smile despite myself and flip another page. “You should both be more selfish.”

Yuma tilts his head. “Why?”

“Because useful children become indispensable adults, and that usually ends badly.”

Akira looks at me with a softness he tries to disguise. “You mean like you?”

“Exactly like me.”

I set the folder down and reach out, dragging Yuma closer by the wrist until I can mess up his hair again. He squeaks in protest and tries to fix it. Then I do the same to Akira, who makes a face like I’ve insulted his ancestors.

I stand then, tucking the folder under my arm. Yuma rises too. “You’re going tonight?”

“Probably.”

He worries his lower lip, then asks the question he actually cares about. “Will it be dangerous?”

“Only for Vetrov.”

Yuma relaxes by half a degree. Akira doesn’t. Instead, he says, “Take the east approach. The west side has cameras he thinks are hidden.”

I raise a brow. “You checked personally?”

“No. I’m sick, not suicidal.”

Yuma laughs softly, and Akira continues, “But I had someone check who is.”

I study him, impressed. He notices and scowls. “Don’t make that face.”

“What face?”

“The proud one.”

I lean down and press a quick kiss to Yuma’s forehead before he can duck away. He blushes, which is adorable and terrible for his reputation. Then I hook two fingers under Akira’s chin. “Good work.”

His ears redden before his expression can.

I head for the hallway, and Yuma’s voice follows me, warm and bright. “Be careful, Kento.”

Akira says it too, quieter but no less sincere. “And don’t improvise unless you absolutely have to.”