All it took was a plane crash, and Kise Ryota was no more.
Strangely enough, he didn't feel sadness, only regret. Regret for not checking his engine beforehand. Regret for missing out on his friends with his job as a pilot. Regret for not spending t...
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Handsome, Ryota mused as he stared at his dressed silhouette in the mirror. No matter the life, Gods have blessed me with good looks he praised a content look on his face as his lips curled into a smug smirk. His hair, which was now as long as his past sisters' used to be was tied in a high ponytail. A haircut he had at first strongly opposed because of how feminine it made him seem until both his company and female fans coaxed him into keeping it, now it was something he found only added to his charm and this he couldn't dislike.
After all, why refuse to be charming when your body exuded with (youthful) sex appeal?
Combing his green locks, he twiddled with some strands before letting them go. Slipping on his school's white blazer, he adjusted his dark blue tie in a slightly loose way before taking another look at his reflection. Although his build wasn't as "bulky" as it used to be, he still had some muscles on himself which instead allowed him to have no fat excess and a pretty lean body. Unlike his previous body which could be qualified as "manly," his current had more of ethereal beauty.
It wasn't feminine per se. People didn't think of him as some weak thing they could dote on or freely bully without fearing retaliation. It only meant they weren't as guarded around him. They were easier to manipulate, to use. Sometimes a smile was enough, there was no need for flirty words, and although Ryota missed the feelings of those rolling off his tongue, he didn't particularly dislike it either.
The experience was new and he knew that puberty had yet to hit him. He had time to turn "manlier."
After all, it meant he could discern the complete fools from the idiots quicker. He could spot the easy targets and those he would take longer to subdue. At the end of the day, to Ryota, his looks were his first eye candy of the day and his biggest weapon to have others dance in the palm of his hand and gain whatever he wanted. The way he came to Japan was the best example. Had he not had his looks, his career as a model wouldn't have started, he wouldn't have been able to transfer to the Japanese branch to join Teiko. In the end, although Money ran the world, looks in a way did too.
"Mika!" A voice, most probably Claude's as the two males were the only ones to live in the condo, called out from the living room. "Hurry I don't have all day," he shouted, his voice holding a bit of impatience. From where he was, Mikaël could imagine the man was impatiently tapping his foot on the wooden floor, his eyes glued to his ticking wristwatch.
Merely shouting an 'I'm coming' back, Ryota's golden eyes took one last glance at his reflection. An impatient grin crept up his face as he hurried to the living room, his backpack which resided at the entrance of his room now in his hand as he joined the exasperated blond by the condo's doorway. "Sorry, sorry, I was looking for my phone," he apologized with a toothy smile, his hand holding the said device up as a form of proof.
