Chapter Text
The invitation didn't ask permission.
It arrived like everything that truly matters: inevitable.
The envelope was heavy, matte black, sealed with a gold stamp bearing the Under-20 symbol—not the official one, but a more elegant, quieter variation. Refined power didn't need noise.
Rin Itoshi opened it slowly.
Inside, the paper was too thick to be ordinary. The calligraphy too perfect to be casual.
“A victory like yours deserves to be celebrated accordingly.”
No signature.
No return address.
Only the implicit certainty that whoever sent it knew he would come.
The requirement came right below, like an elegant sentence:
Formal attire. Masks mandatory.
Rin stared at the words for a few seconds longer than necessary.
Not out of doubt—but because something in them was watching him back.
The room was immersed in silence as he began to get ready.
It wasn't nervousness.
It was anticipation.
The suit seemed too expensive even for that event. Absolute black, without excessive shine, with precise cuts that followed the body as if each measurement had been taken in advance… as if someone had thought about it while designing it.
Rin put on the shirt first. The fabric slid over his cold skin, the buttons fastened with precise, almost methodical movements.
Every gesture revealed control.
Nothing about him was careless.
The vest adjusted to his torso, marking his impeccable posture, the bearing of someone who doesn't need to impose himself to be noticed.
The jacket came last, sealing the image like a seal of silent authority.
But it was the mask that awaited.
It rested on the table like a sacred artifact.
White as ivory. Too smooth to be innocent. The silver details snaked around the eyes, not as ornaments, but as fissures — delicate, almost organic, as if something had tried to escape from there.
When Rin put it on, the world changed its tone.
The reflection in the mirror revealed someone who belonged nowhere—not to the fields, not to the stands, not to the headlines. There was something untouchable about him now.
Distant.
Too beautiful to be comfortable.
His cyan eyes, partially hidden, shone with a cold, calculated light… and dangerously calm.
It wasn't fantasy.
It was ascension.
—
The ballroom seemed to breathe.
Crystal chandeliers cast golden light on mirrored walls, multiplying shadows, movements, intentions. The music—violins mixed with discreet beats—pulsed in the air like a heart too elegant to be human.
Perfume, expensive wine, expectation.
Players entered in groups. Muffled laughter behind colorful masks. Conversations laden with ego, glory, and desire. Everyone there knew they were winners.
Then Rin crossed the entrance.
And everything rearranged itself around him.
There was no absolute silence—but something that broke in rhythm with the ballroom. Eyes wandered without realizing it. Glasses paused mid-way. Breaths missed the mark.
He walked with firm, calm steps, as if the ground had been made to support him.
The white mask reflected the light in an almost indecent way, transforming him into a fixed point in a sea of excess.
Rin wasn't observing.
He was being observed.
"Who…" someone began, but didn't finish.
"I don't know," another replied, in a low tone. "But he's not just a player."
There was something about him that escaped common definitions. It wasn't arrogance. It wasn't obvious charm. It was the uncomfortable feeling of being in front of something that doesn't ask for approval.
Majestic.
Some felt curiosity.
Others, desire.
Others… an inexplicable urge to approach, like moths before a light that could burn them.
Rin didn't notice—or pretended not to notice.
He moved through the hall like someone who belonged, like someone who never needed to prove anything to anyone.
On the other side, leaning against a column, a man watched him without disguise.
Sae Itoshi didn't move.
He didn't need to.
The mask, the suit, the posture—everything was irrelevant.
He would recognize Rin even if he were covered in gold or shadows.
The contained brilliance.
The silent presence.
The way the world seemed to give way.
Sae's lips curved into a tiny smile, too dangerous to be seen from afar.
"Of course…" he murmured to himself. "So this is where you decided to shine."
The ball continued.
The music grew louder.
The predators began to circulate.
And Rin, unknowingly, had already been chosen more than once that night.
The game hadn't even begun.
It was born the moment Rin entered.