❛ Look After You. Chrollo Lucilfer

xvii

Kill him.

Keiko's mind raced with a flurry of possibilities, each one more unsettling than the last. Her heart pounded in her chest as she kept her eyes on Chrollo, who, in contrast, appeared completely at ease. His demeanor was calm, almost unnervingly so, as he leaned against the glass table, his elbow resting casually on the surface. He stared intently at the chessboard in front of him, his gaze sharp and focused. The pieces were meticulously arranged, each one a potential move in a game that extended far beyond the boundaries of the board.

Keiko couldn't shake the feeling that every scenario she envisioned was already a part of Chrollo's calculations, as if he was always three steps ahead, seeing paths she could barely imagine. Yet, he showed no sign of the storm that brewed in her thoughts—only the silent, deliberate contemplation of his next move. The tension in the air was palpable, the silence almost deafening as the two sat in a battle of wits, each one waiting for the other to make the first move.

Keiko's breath hitched as Chrollo's hand moved with deliberate precision, his fingers effortlessly guiding a piece across the board. The quiet click as it landed on its new square seemed to echo in the still room, sending a shiver down her spine. Her eyes followed the movement, trying to decipher his intentions, but his expression remained as unreadable as ever.

Then, his voice cut through the silence— soft, gentle, yet laced with a subtle edge. "Your move," he murmured, the words hanging in the air like a challenge. It was a taunt wrapped in velvet, a reminder that this was more than just a game.

Keiko felt a surge of determination swell within her. She couldn't afford to let him get the upper hand, not now. She would have to think carefully, to strategize with the same cold calculation that he did. There was no room for hesitation; she had to match his every move with one of her own. The stakes were high, and losing was not an option.

Because the loser would unfortunately have to pay for dinner tonight.

It wasn't about the money— neither of them ever worried about that. They had stacks of million thousands in their accounts. It was the principle, the competitiveness that fueled their every move, driving them to outwit and outmaneuver each other at every turn. That's why, after quickly running a few important errands (Keiko's Nutella milkshake) and giving Chrollo a slight tour of Barcelona, the two had ended up back at her place, in the grand expanse of her living room.

The atmosphere was both elegant and comfortable, the large space filled with soft lighting and tasteful decor. They sat opposite each other at the polished glass table, the chessboard between them a battleground where their minds clashed. The stakes might have seemed trivial to an outsider, but to them, this was serious business. This was about pride, about who would emerge victorious in this round of their unspoken rivalry.

This, first of all, wouldn't have even happened if Chrollo had only kept his smart mouth shut.

It had started innocently enough— an offhand comment during one of their usual playful banter-filled conversations while on the search for Keiko's milkshake. Chrollo, with that infuriatingly calm confidence, had casually mentioned that he could probably outsmart her in any situation. Keiko had felt her competitive streak flare instantly, the challenge igniting in her like a spark to dry tinder. She wasn't about to let that slide.

And before either of them knew it, they were back at her place, the chessboard laid out as the ultimate test of wits. It was a matter of pride now, a way to settle the score and prove, who was the sharper mind. Chrollo might have thought he had the upper hand, especially after the past few weeks they've been together, but Keiko was determined to show him that underestimating her was a mistake he wouldn't make twice.