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“She apparently told the managers that if they stopped her finding work with other companies, she would leak everything she has.”

“Mutual destruction,” I snorted, rolling my eyes at the drama of it all.

Jihoon nodded. “The company terminated her contract quietly and offered her a generous settlement in return for leaving peacefully. They also agreed not to interfere with any future employment. She did leave, but they took out a restraining order for the company and for us.”

“Us?” I said sharply, narrowing my eyes on him as my heart hammered against my ribs.

“GVibes,” he clarified quickly, not meeting my eyes, and my chest deflated, though whether in relief or something more complicated, I couldn’t tell.

“The company believed she posed a credible threat to us, because of what she might have seen in the logistics package for the tour,” he said.

“When was this?” My throat felt tight. I tried to swallow, but it was like trying to swallow sand.

“January.”

I flinched. And maybe it was paranoid, but my contact with ENT had been formalised in January. If she’d seen the logistics package, what else had she seen? Or was I giving her too much credit; making her into the monster in the dark, and giving her more power than she had?

Impossible to tell. Impossible not to consider.

“I’m sorry,” Jihoon said. “I did not know if telling you would make things better, or…”

“No,” I exhaled heavily. “I’m glad I know. It feels like something I can put to rest now. Thank you.”

He inclined his head, and I leaned back against the bench. We lapsed back into silence as we watched the passage of clouds above Kyoto below us.

Minutes passed, and gradually I began to relax. My muscles unclenched as the peace of the summit eddied around me like the wind that rustled the leaves in the trees.

And then, the feel of the silence changed. I couldn’t have said precisely how. A change in the air between us that somehow felt heavier. I couldn’t define it, but it was more tangible than it should have been.

From the corner of my eye I saw Jihoon shift slightly, angling his body towards mine. My breath caught, suspended for a moment as I waited.

“Kaiya,” he said softly, as if he needed to preface the conversation with my name.

I turned my head to look at him, noting the easy smile had been replaced with something a little more tense. He put one elbow on the back of the bench, resting his head in his palm for a moment before pulling it away to run his fingers through his hair.

“I–” he broke off, blowing out a breath. “I want to… if you’ll let me, I mean, I want to… court you…” he trailed off quietly as if he realised exactly what he’d said a moment too late.

I blinked. And then, to my credit, I gave him the courtesy of waiting a few moments.

“Court me?” I pressed my lips together to hold in the bubble of laughter I felt on the tip of my tongue.

“Yes, alright, maybe I chose the wrong word.” He looked back towards the city, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“I think we’d need a time machine for you to ‘court me’.” I raised a hand to my mouth, shoulders shaking even as I tried to keep it together.

“Ky,” he groaned.

“No, no,” I insisted, “tell me more about this ‘courting’.”

Jihoon closed his eyes and dropped his head back on the bench. “You know what? Forget I said anything.”

“Are you tired? We could probably make the early bird special at the hotel buffet if we leave now,” I giggled, eyes crinkling as I watched his face pinch.

“Yah!” he protested weakly.

“Are your hips alright, grandpa? All those steps…”

He turned his head to face me, fixing me with a dark look.