Novel & Cerita Mishima Confidant

"What do you think they're talking about?" Miyuki follows my gaze, her expression curious. "Probably plans for the mission. Lennox's always been a bit of a wildcard, but he's loyal to Octavius. They've been friends for years." I nod slowly, my curiosity piqued as I focus on Miyuki. "What do you know about him?"

Months meant every shared moment, every whispered promise, every time I thought I wasn’t alone—it had all been layered over a lie. “Continue the chat with Mr. Ito,” I said at last, my voice low. Controlled. Too controlled. The speaker crackled, and Hiroshi Ito’s voice filled the car once more, steady and resolute. “You cannot trust her,” he said without hesitation. “She is on the short list of people you must never trust. The League does not place assets casually. Anyone allowed that close to you was never incidental.” I swallowed, my throat tight. “She wasn’t just watching me, was she?” I asked.

“My dad works for the Tokyo Stock Exchange. My mom’s a hedge fund manager.” Takuto: “…” (What is this? A rich heiress living among us commoners?!) As he struggled to process everything, Misaki stepped closer. Close enough that he caught the faint scent of peach shampoo. “Actually,” she said quietly, “I know who you really are.” Takuto’s heart stopped. “What… do you mean?” “The mysterious advisor of Kimura Corp.” Her eyes sparkled. “The one who saved the company with crayon drawings.” “...!”

Working together. All this time, and I had been a pawn. A tool, used, manipulated, by him, and Misa. My confidante, someone I finally saw as a friend, kissing the man who had just killed my mother. My shock was absolute. Gerald, the killer, standing over her, his face now soft with the acceptance of Misa’s touch, and Misa, my fellow escapee, kissing him, confirming she was one of them. Such betrayal. Misa, all her talk of escape, of her daughter, of her writing, of her pain, of her hatred for men like Damien was any of it real?

“Though some are more fortunate than the others” She smiles. A mockery of her earlier one. “You must understand what I’m trying to say Hoshino Sakura”. “I would simply like to know what exactly you have to do with that Yukimura brat, and what you know about her issue with Miyamura”. A sharp smile. A piercing gaze. And a playful demeanor. This is Aronohai Misa’s attitude towards people she views as suspicious. Sakura can’t breathe. “I will advise you to speak now. I’m more patient than Miyamura, but that doesn’t really mean much in the long run”.

Upon hearing that, his confidant—who was standing close by—couldn’t help but reply, “…Do you think that he could’ve… you know… ended up like Endo and Izumi…” “Can it!” growled Kai as he glared at his new confidant. Though his previous confidant never spoke out of turn, due to that little incident, Kai had paid him a few thousand dollars to get lost. Unfortunately, that meant that Kai had to allow this idiot to be his next confidant…!

Chad turns out to be someone he can trust. “Hopefully, the officer’s attitude proves your innocence, Nick. I’m sure this must have been a misunderstanding,” Jo said. *** “We must find the person who has framed Young Master. They cannot tolerate this,” Russell said emotionally to his men. Adam Reinhart stubbed his cigarette into the ashtray, then the man with the stain spoke up. “Usually the person who commits such an act is the closest person, or confidant. It is possible that the Young Master gave person complete trust,” Adam Reinhart said.

Jace said, causing me to squeeze the paper in my hand a little tighter. “There’s no need for that,” I replied curtly, but it was evident in my tone that asking a second time wouldn’t bode well for Jace. Jace was one of my most loyal confidants and the closest thing I had to a friend. I trusted him with my life, and he was even privy to some of the things that were stated about me in the message, but the lesser the number of people who knew about the specifics, the better. “I didn’t mean any offense,” he said, bowing his head in respect.

I couldn't catch every word, but the occasional glances thrown my way hinted that I was the center of their gossip. "You're here, Rina,” Misha Kerman, the only colleague I considered a friend, greeted me warmly as she walked over. "Yeah." I smiled and nodded at her. Misha was the only person in the company I got along with. She never belittled me and even helped me with some of my workload. "I thought you’d never come back," Misha whispered concernedly as she leaned in. "Why would you think that?" I asked, genuinely confused.