Ririko tucked a strand of hair back from her face with her fingertips and said to Harvey, "Thank you for saving me."
Harvey nodded and tactfully turned away. "I'll be going, then."
Bruce noticed the sweater Ririko was wearing. It was clearly Harvey's, and embarrassment spread across his face.
He had taken Ririko to the banquet, only to lose her. In the end, his friend had been the one to rescue her from the kidnappers.
Was he, the heir to Wayne Enterprises, doomed to stand helplessly by every time while someone else saved the girl he liked?
"It's my fault. I was too busy dealing with those people yesterday," he told Ririko quietly.
"I'm fine now." Ririko stroked his finely sculpted face with her cold hand. "Let's go home. I want a bath."
Over the next few days, Bruce seemed driven by some new urgency. Apart from meetings and classes, he barely left the training room, with its lingering smell of sweat and rubber mats.
Whenever Ririko came home from class, she found fresh bruises of every size on his face and body.
As Alfred poured her tea, he said:
"Master Bruce has called Victor back again." Alfred kept a first-aid kit beside him, ready for any emergency. "And he's asked him to teach him more dangerous fighting techniques."
"Oh? Aren't you afraid that sadist Victor will kill him?"
Ririko took a sip of hot tea as she spoke.
Alfred sighed. Even he considered some of those moves rather dangerous, but Bruce insisted, and there was nothing he could do.
Victor, on the other hand, was having a wonderful time, as though he had received an entertaining Christmas present early.
As Christmas approached, Ririko began to worry about Bruce's condition.
If he kept training every day, he wouldn't have