The moment you ended your debate with Michael, frustration still lingering in your chest, you hesitated for only a second before reaching for the sleek black card Ran had given you. It felt heavier than it should have—almost like a brand you were about to place on yourself. You let out a sharp breath and dialed the number.

The line rang twice before a familiar, unsettling voice answered.

“My sweet escape artist,” Ran drawled, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Calling me so soon? Did you miss me that much?”

You clenched your jaw. “I'm going.”

The line fell silent. You could hear the sharp inhale he took, followed by a feverish exhale that sent an unsettling shiver down your spine. Then, a sound—something between a groan and a sigh, low and oddly pleased.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Do you even know what you just did? You’ve just made me the happiest man alive.”

You grimaced. “Cut the theatrics, Ran. We need to meet. Somewhere public.”

“Tsk, tsk,” he tutted, but you could hear the giddiness in his voice. “You really don’t trust me, do you?”

“Not even a little.”

His delighted laughter made your skin crawl. “That only makes you more precious. Fine. A café, then. I’ll send you the location. But don’t make me wait too long, or I might just come find you myself.”

The call ended, and you exhaled through your nose, steadying yourself. This was the only way to get into Elysium. For Maya.

Ran had chosen a quaint café tucked into a side street—quiet, with dim lighting and a warm scent of coffee beans and vanilla. You walked in, your latest disguise in place: a loose hoodie, a baseball cap, and tinted glasses shielding your eyes. You spotted him immediately, lounging in the corner like he owned the place, swirling a cup of tea in his hand. His crimson eyes gleamed the moment they landed on you.

The smirk he wore deepened into something more sinister.

“You’re adorable,” he scoffed as you sat across from him. “But really, do you have to keep up this act? I’d much rather see the real you.”

You deadpanned. “This is the real me.”

He sighed dramatically, leaning forward. “You wound me, sweetheart.”

“Stop calling me that.”

His eyes darkened with amusement. “Oh? And what should I call you, then?”

You hesitated. It was true—he didn’t even know your name. The realization made your stomach twist.

“…Y/N.”

Ran exhaled as if tasting the name on his tongue, his fingers tapping against his cup. “Y/N,” he echoed, and then he grinned, wide and delighted. “That’s perfect.”

You rolled your eyes. “Let’s just get to the point. I need to get into Elysium.”

“Mm, and I’ll make sure you do,” he purred. “But, of course, I have to make it believable.”

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

Ran sat back, a Cheshire-like grin spreading across his face. “You can’t just walk in as an Untainted, sweetheart. That would get you eaten alive. No, no, we’ll need to forge your documents. And as much as I’d love to mark you as a Delusional like myself—because, let’s be honest, we are a match made in heaven—”

“We are not,” you interjected.

He ignored you, continuing, “—Manipulative suits you much better. It’ll explain why you can keep your emotions in check, why you don’t attach yourself to people like we do. It makes you untouchable. Almost.”

You crossed your arms. “And how do you plan on making them believe I belong there?”

Ran’s grin turned razor-sharp. “Because you’ll be under a sponsorship from the Delquiorra family.”

Your stomach lurched. “What?”

He tilted his head, sipping his tea as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on you. “The Delquiorras are very generous to Elysium. Their influence will ensure no one questions your presence. All you have to do is act the part.”

It made sense. Too much sense. Ran was a Delquiorra. He didn’t need to forge connections—he was the connection. With his last name alone, he could bend the rules, push boundaries, and no one would dare challenge him.

That was exactly what made this so dangerous.

You wanted to pry further, but you knew it would be pointless. Ran thrived in ambiguity, in twisting words until they lost all meaning.

Instead, you asked, “What’s the catch?”

Ran leaned forward, his voice a hushed, intimate whisper. “The catch, sweetheart, is that now you belong to me.”

Your blood ran cold. “I don’t belong to anyone.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “That’s cute. But you’ll see.”

You pushed your chair back, standing. “Just get me in. That’s all I need from you.”

Ran stood as well, his grin never faltering. “Oh, I will.”

As you turned to leave, his voice followed you, smooth and teasing.

“See you at school, my dear Y/N.”

And somehow, you knew that whatever awaited you at Elysium was far worse than you had imagined.