A Peek into His World

Posted on Mon Aug 10th, 2026 @ 3:14pm by Shinobi Shaw
Edited on on Mon Aug 10th, 2026 @ 3:52pm

770 words; about a 4 minute read

Mission: Episode 8: Shadows Over Avalon
Location: Madripoor, Shinobi's Office
Timeline: While the team is in Avalon

It had been some time since Shinobi had last seen Kennedy in his Manhattan penthouse. They had parted with an understanding: when he returned to New York, he would reach out.

Shinobi stood before the towering glass windows and looked out over the city of Madripoor. It was late afternoon and the rush hour traffic had started to build. He remained still for a moment, taking a sip of the San Pellegrino in the crystal tumbler.

He could call her when the time was right. But that would be ordinary… forgettable. And Kennedy Kelly had spent enough of her life fearing she was exactly that, forgotten.

A faint smile touched the corner of his mouth as the shape of the evening settled cleanly into place in his mind. There would be no flowers, no apologies nor any sentiment. There would only be selection... intentionality. During their last meeting they had spoken about choices. About being chosen. About the difference between being desired and being remembered. So Shinobi intended to remind her of exactly where she stood.

He walked over to his desk and set the crystal glass down.

The room was spacious without feeling oversized and lit by amber lighting along with light streaming from the windows. Dark walnut shelves lined one wall. They weren't filled with decorative clutter but carefully selected volumes: economic theory, political history, international finance, classical literature, and rare first editions collected more for appreciation than display.

A few objects sat among them: a carved Japanese netsuke, a vintage Cartier lighter with black lacquer, a small antique brass globe with faded cartography that showed trade routes, movement, and empires. And to complete the collection, a marble bust of Marcus Aurelius.

The focal point of the room was a broad black desk near the far wall. Its surface remained almost unnervingly clean aside from a telephone, a leather folio, a sleek desk lamp, and several neatly organized documents.

He sat down behind his desk and removed a pen and paper. Intentionality. Purpose. He had told her that luxury was attention.
It was when someone with the power to give the world to anyone…chooses you.

He began making notes and then phone calls. A handful of conversations later, the evening existed and his ‘reaching out’ was ready. Attire that would show her elegance and dinner at a restaurant in Manhattan. She had said that she would like to find her place in his world. So he would give her a glimpse at part of his world while keeping separate the parts they'd agreed to.

An evening gown. Nothing loud or aggressive, but more aristocratic femininity and European refinement. A Valentino Couture acquired privately and not available to the public. A floor-length, bias-cut deep black silk satin gown with the faintest undertone of midnight blue when it catches the light. A soft off the shoulder neckline and a low open back.

Manolo Blahnik black satin heels with closed toe and a refined silhouette. The sort of shoes powerful women wear instinctively and powerful men notice quietly.

The jewelry would be minimal and no necklace, but still carry old power and quiet exclusivity. Harry Winston simple diamond drop earrings that catch the candlelight when she turns her head. Accompanied by a thin white-gold bracelet by Van Cleef & Arpels. Parisian, old world, and delicate.

Her ensemble would not be complete, however, without a bottle of Guerlain-Samsara’s 1989 release. The scent that lingers.

Le Cirque on East 65th Street in New York City was the only restaurant Shinobi would have chosen. Not because it was fashionable. Fashion faded, but influence remained. Diplomats, industrialists, media moguls, and politicians filled its dining room nightly beneath crystal chandeliers and quiet conversation. On that night, they would see Miss Kennedy Kelly, daughter of the late Senator Robert Kelly. And they would see her beside Shinobi Shaw. Not as an accessory or an acquisition, but as a woman he had deliberately chosen to have at his side that evening.

He leaned back slightly in his chair and looked once more toward the city. Shinobi gathered the notes from his desk and slipped them into a drawer. Preparations were made, processes were started, and the message would be clear.

Crossing the office, he paused before the windows again. His reflection stared back at him in the glass, framed by the lights of Madripoor. There, he saw a calm, certain, and deliberate man. He smiled as he remembered she mentioned something about staying and breakfast. Then he turned away from the skyline and left the office. There was another dinner meeting in town that he had to attend.

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