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Head Detective Shigeru Ishida’s throat bobbed twice with each gulp of beer. Beads of amber drink trickled down the sides of his lips, carving twin lines down his chin and dampening the top of his popped-up collar. When the last drop was drained from the bottom of the mug, Ishida slapped it down against the counter with a loud thump. Just as loudly, he smacked his wet lips together and muffled a burp that surprised even him.
Discreetly, the detective’s eyes skimmed left and right for witnesses, but the other patrons were either too polite to chastise him or were members of his team, all of whom were well aware not to draw attention to such things. Satisfied, he wiped his lips with the back of his hand and rose from his stool. The legs of the wooden stool screeched noisily on the hardwood floor, but once again, there was no complaint—not even from the bartender.
“Fucking hell,” Ishida sighed loudly. His hands fumbled with his waistband, adjusting, once more discreetly, the hook of his belt to expand the space in his pants to fit his bloated, beer-filled belly. The others made sure to draw their eyes away as they gathered their things and rose to follow him.
The bartender tossed aside his wet rag and raised an open palm toward the group of officers.
Ishida sucked the back of his teeth in annoyance, turning his back on the bartender and waving a hand toward his subordinates. The four of them—three men, one woman—exchanged glances behind his back. He didn’t give them a chance to protest and stomped toward the pub’s door, letting the thick wood slam shut behind him.
“I covered it last time,” Misaki hissed under her breath.
“That was one time,” Souta parried. “I always pay it.”
Haruto sighed with a roll of his eyes, “Twice doesn’t mean always.”
“It’s still more than you. When’s the last time you paid?”
“I’m the lieutenant. It hardly makes sense for me to pay.”
“Until you’re detective, I say you still have to pitch in. Isn’t that fair, Misaki?”
Misaki harrumphed, “You think I’m going to take your side after the other day, Souta?”
Souta lifted his hands and protested, “I said I was sorry. How much longer are you going to hold it over me?”
“Probably until you’re dead,” Haruto offered. “Or you get yourself fired.”
“Fired?!” Souta’s voice raised incredulously.
A loud ding, then a smack. The three of them snapped their heads toward the bar counter. The bartender had slammed the cash drawer shut, then pushed several smaller bills across the counter.
“Thank you,” Kai said, accepting the bills with a small bow.
The trio stared in disbelief at the wad of cash. Kai slipped the bills into his trench coat pocket, then glanced briefly down at the watch on his left wrist. His brows furrowed together, then he gestured at the others toward the pub door. Without waiting for acknowledgement, he squeezed between Souta and Haruto, heading for the exit. In a loose line, the three officers followed him out.
“Come back again soon!” the bartender called to their backs.
The door slammed shut behind the four of them. The little pub sat at the center of a bustling street, surrounded by restaurants and stores. Most were closed, or in the process of doing so, late at night. Despite the hour, the street still pulsed with life, a mix of tired adults unwinding with drinks after a long week and young people crowding the pubs for a night out with friends.
Judging by the sky, it was probably nearing midnight. The moon cast a cool light over the cobblestone streets, softened by a blanket of twinkling stars above the city. The windows of the tall buildings lining the street glowed, light speckling through gaps in closed curtains.
As the four officers walked toward the plaza where Detective Ishida waited, Kai reached into his coat pocket again. His hand emerged with a slightly dented pack of cigarettes, the flap half-crumbled over the smushed contents. He forced one free, pressing it between his lips, where a faint scar sliced across the skin. He nudged the box toward Souta, who took one with a quick, grateful motion.
Souta fumbled in his pocket for a silver lighter, flicking the top open with a soft click. He extended the flame to Kai, who leaned in, cradling the cigarette between his fingers. The orange glow illuminated his face as he lit the end, a sharp sizzle marking the burn. A tendril of smoke curled upward, and Kai inhaled deeply, the harsh bitterness of the tobacco coating the back of his throat. The cigarette’s tip glowed brighter, ash flicking off into the night air.
He exhaled slowly, letting a cloud of smoke spill from his lips. One hand reached for the collar of his shirt, adjusting it higher on his neck. The other raised up and he checked the time on his watch again.
“I feel bad!” Souta mumbled as he lit his own cigarette, the flame briefly illuminating his face before he took a slow drag.
Misaki looked like she wanted to smack him. “You should. Kai’s the one that actually always pays.”
“Well, to be fair, he does get a bigger—”
This time, she did actually smack him. With her fist coiled, she shook out her knuckles after landing the hit on Souta’s bicep. “He gets paid because he’s a great officer.”
Haruto chimed in, his voice dry, “And he actually does his job.”
Misaki nodded firmly, “And he actually does his job. If you’re serious about becoming lieutenant, Souta, you should try to act a little more like Kai does.”
“Oh, come on! I’ve been on this team longer than both of you and I’m still getting the worst paycheck,” Souta complained. He winced, still nursing the sting on his shoulder, rubbing the spot where she’d hit him.
Kai offered with a hint of humor, “I think you deserve a raise, Souta. We would have never caught the Iron Fangs if it weren’t for you.”
“Right,” Misaki laughed, fully this time, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “He should get ‘Officer of the Month’ for conveniently taking a piss in the same alleyway the Iron Fangs tried to escape.”
Haruto scratched the back of his neck, the frown on his face deepening. “I still can’t believe how convenient it was that we found them with the bodies.”
Souta grumbled, shaking his head. “We still caught them, though, didn’t we?”
“On a technicality,” Haruto corrected, his voice flat.
The fountain was now within sight. Standing in front of its gushing water, Detective Ishida impatiently waited ahead, his hand propped on his hip and his eyes trained on the expensive watch he bragged to the entire police force about. A gift from the Commissioner, apparently.
The four of them stopped some distance away, still in view, but far enough to avoid the full force of Ishida’s glare.
“Technicality or not, they’re sitting in a jail cell,” Souta pointed out, his voice dripping with frustration. He shot a scornful glance at Ishida, then puffed out a cloud of smoke, his shoulders sagging with a defeated sigh. “I might as well be too. Ishida-san’s got me swamped in paperwork all night.”
“Does he still expect it to be done by tomorrow morning?” Misaki asked incredulously.
Ruefully, Souta groaned. “Suddenly, getting fired doesn’t sound like such a bad idea.” He let out another frustrated sound, smacking his lips together before he gave the others a short salute, the motion quick but stiff. “See you guys later.”
They echoed their goodbyes, watching him stalk up the hilly cobblestone street toward the fountain. His long, lanky strides carried him quickly, though his body language betrayed him. His shoulders were hunched, his face tilted toward the ground as if bracing for impact. From afar, they couldn’t quite hear what was being said between him and Ishida, but from the detective’s red, pinched face and Souta rubbing at the back of his neck, it was clear that whatever was going on between them wasn’t anything good.
Kai only waited a beat before mentioning, “I should head out too.”
“Already?” Misaki frowned. “I thought you were coming back to ours tonight.”
“Maybe another night.” The excuse landed flat.
Their eyes met briefly, and in that small, suspended moment it felt like a whole conversation passed between them without words. Misaki gave a short, subtle nod toward her boyfriend, silently signaling him to speak. Long ago, Kai envied this very ability of theirs, the way they always seemed to know each other so well. Now, he didn’t have the patience for it.
Haruto was never one to mince words. And Kai knew what was coming before he ever even opened his mouth. Actually, he’d been waiting all night for any one of them to bring the topic up, though he assumed they were just waiting for an opportunity to strike. After all, the topic wasn’t exactly so casually brought up.
“We’re worried about you, Kai,” Haruto stated plainly.
Misaki continued, “You’ve been distracted a lot lately. Half the time, it feels like you’re not even here.”
Kai dragged a hand down his face with a sigh and muttered, ”I’m fine.”
”No, you’re not.” Haruto didn’t buy it and countered immediately, ”You’ve been spacing out, forgetting things. It’s not like you.”
She was more tentative, choosing her words carefully. ”We know it’s been hard since Aira. You don’t have to talk if you’re not ready. Just… don’t keep pushing us away.”
Kai gritted his teeth and his jaw bounced. His gaze flicked away, fixed conveniently on the dark alleyways beyond the plaza. He didn’t miss the way her voice stumbled over Aira’s name. It wasn’t a surprise to him, though. It wasn’t the first time either. None of them really knew how to talk about her with each other in her absence.
”I don’t need you two hovering over me,” he scowled. “I can take care of myself.”
Haruto’s hand curled into a fist against his leg. “She was my sister. Don’t think you’re the only one hurting.”
The air tightened between them. Misaki shifted, slipping her hand over Haruto’s before his temper could snap the thread. She broke in quietly, “We’re not trying to fight. But losing Aira was already more than enough. We can’t lose you too, Kai.”
Her words lingered in the air, heavy enough that even Haruto’s anger faltered. For a moment, none of them moved, the night pressing in around their small circle. Kai exhaled slowly, smoke curling between them, and when he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost dismissive.
“Yeah, I’ve got some things to take care of.”
The pair’s disappointment was palpable. Haruto sighed quietly to himself, running a frustrated hand through his hair while Misaki tried to mask the frown twitching her lips, but she didn’t say anything. Despite both of their attempts at getting Kai to reveal his hand, they were unsuccessful. And they would continue to face disappointment because this was just a road that he couldn’t go down. Sharing any of it with either of them was just something he couldn’t do.
Whether they somehow understood that or not, he didn’t know. But, the urgency with which they tried to latch onto him loosened some. After all, they couldn’t fight fire with fire and most certainly not one as stubborn as Kai’s.
“Should we at least walk him home, Haru?” Misaki asked, craning her head up toward her boyfriend. Resignation tinged her words. “It’s not safe to be out alone.”
They exchanged another glance, considering the suggestion between themselves. If they were heading home as well, they’d be taking Fifteenth Street which was in the opposite direction from where Kai lived. Normally, this wouldn’t have been a situation worth thinking twice about. Unfortunately, as of late, it was a different story.
“Don’t worry,” Kai reassured, “I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?” Haruto’s brows furrowed, a line of worry creasing his forehead.
“Yeah,” Kai promised. “I’ll just take the main road. The long way, I guess. But, better safe than sorry.”
Misaki’s brows knitted together in concern. She crossed her arms over her chest, lips pursed, her stance clearly poised to protest. But before she could voice her worry, Haruto gave a small nod in agreement. He twisted his hand within hers, fingers lacing together, and they stepped back, moving in the opposite direction.
“Get home safe, Kai,” she called over her shoulder.
Haruto added, “See you tomorrow.”
Kai pressed his lips together, offering a curt nod, and gave them a short wave. Rooted to the spot, he finished off his cigarette, watching the couple walk ahead, their figures slowly melting into the evening shadows until they were completely out of sight. When they were gone, the street seemed quieter somehow, the low hum of distant voices muffled by the dark. Kai checked his watch again, then he turned on his heel and started in the opposite direction.
The heels of his shoes clicked against the cobblestones, their sound growing sharper the further he walked from the hum of the plaza. As he walked on the main street, he kept his eyes straight ahead, but his gaze flicked over the dark alleyway nestled between two looming buildings, a sliver of blackness that seemed to swallow the faint light of the streetlamps. It was too dark to see inside, and he didn’t care to look.
Stopping in front of it, Kai shook the ash off his cigarette, watching it float lazily to the ground. He reached into his coat, fingers brushing the cool metal of his lighter before pulling out a fresh cigarette, its tip still unmarked by use. When he flicked the lighter open, the metal caught on his thumb. A sharp sting, and a thin line of blood welled up. He sucked at the wound without thinking, his tongue brushing the taste of blood, the slight burn lingering on his thumb. He wiped it off on the inside of his lip, leaving a faint red smear, before lighting up his second cigarette.
The first drag burned in his chest, and Kai exhaled slowly, smoke curling out in a lazy plume, hanging thick in the cold night air.
A sudden bang erupted from the alley, followed by the unmistakable scratching of nails against pavement. A hiss, sharp and angry, shattered the silence. Kai froze, narrowing his eyes toward the darkness, trying to make out anything moving in the shadows, but there was only stillness. Then, without warning, a furball of disgruntled fury shot out from the alley—a cat, fur bristling, eyes wide with alarm. It hissed again, teeth bared, before skidding to a stop just short of him. The cat’s gaze locked on his for a moment, then, tail puffed up like a bottlebrush, it bolted away into the night.
Kai exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. His fingers curled tighter around the cigarette, then he took another drag.
He continued walking, glancing over his shoulder every so often. His pace was steady but unhurried, the slow drag of his feet on the cobblestones a deliberate break from the usual rush of his day. He wasn’t in a hurry. He wasn’t even thinking about the destination. The smoke swirled up from his lips, mixing with the cool night air as he exhaled, a sigh slipping from him without intention.
The city felt quieter here. The bustling neighborhoods were far behind him, and only a few cars meandered down the street, their headlights cutting through the darkness like pale ghosts. No one else was around.
It was kind of peaceful.
He told the others he had things to take care of and it was true. Kai had made a promise and he had every intention of keeping it, no matter how difficult it was. A promise was a promise and he would never break it.
Despite saying he would stay on the main street, Kai veered off course, cutting through a shadowed alley on his way home. The buildings loomed overhead, swallowing the moonlight. The darkness closed in, thick and oppressive. His pace slowed, each step deliberate, as his eyes strained to adjust. One hand slid along the rough wall, guiding him deeper into the alley.
Then, his shoe slammed into something solid.
In the dim light, it looked like a dark heap. He squinted, trying to make sense of it. When he still couldn’t tell, Kai flicked his cigarette away and pulled his lighter from his pocket. The first strike failed. The second sparked to life, casting a faint, trembling glow at his feet.
A man lay slumped against the floor and the wall, his legs splayed awkwardly before him. His head lolled against his shoulders, limp and lifeless. His eyes were half-closed, the lids heavy, giving him the look of a drunken city dweller. But as Kai lowered the lighter, the truth became clear. The man’s left arm, from shoulder to wrist, was drenched in something dark.
Kai’s breath caught in his throat. He staggered back from the man, his eyes immediately scanning the shadows beyond the reach of the flickering flame. When he’d entered the alley, all had been silent. Now, a sound bled through the dark: the faint patter of footsteps coming straight toward him.
Every instinct screamed at him to run, but his feet were rooted to the spot. With shallow breath, he watched as a dark shape slowly emerged from the gloom, drawing closer to the light. Then, a silhouette formed, then slowly unraveled into detail as it breached the glow of the fire.
The first thing he saw was a pair of shoes, their laces slack and dragging through the puddled path, then a quivering pair of legs. A blue sweater clung to her frame, smeared with grime, its cuffs dyed in spreading stains of crimson. Her hands dripped with it, a constant patter striking the stones as she walked, each drop spreading into dark spots that glistened in the firelight.
Then her face emerged. White hair clung around her chin, strands plastered to skin marked with dirt and red. Her eyes caught the light, impossibly wide, a fever-bright scarlet that seemed to swallow the fire itself. Blood coated her mouth and chin in thick streaks, fresh and wet, the edges glistening as her tongue flicked out over the points of her teeth. Two canines, sharp and prominent, cut against her lip.
She tilted her head as though savoring the moment, lashes lowering while she gazed up at him with unblinking intensity. Then, lifting her hands, she cupped her own face like a child about to share a secret.
“Boo,” she whispered.
Just before she blew the flame out, Kai spotted a familiar ring sitting on the girl’s left ring finger. A curled gold band with a small round ruby sitting in the tangled embellishment.
Then the alley plunged back into darkness.
His thumb stayed pressed hard against the useless lighter, muscles trembling.
The thought clawed through him, over and over, pounding in time with his pulse.
That’s my ring.
He never had the chance to think further.
A violent force slammed into him, the back of his head cracking against brick. His vision burst white, his ears rang sharp and high, and for an instant the world spun sickeningly out of place. His body pitched forward and then back again, scraping skin raw along the rough wall. He stumbled to catch himself but his legs gave in, folding under him. The lighter slipped from his hand, striking the ground with a thin, hollow sound. His shoulder hit the pavement first. Then his side.
His body sagged against the wall, dazed, until something heavier collapsed with him—the man.
Kai’s scream tore from his throat before he could stop it, raw and panicked, as he clawed at the corpse sprawled across him. His fingers slid uselessly through blood, the sticky warmth coating his palms, smearing up his wrists. With a violent shove, he rolled the body aside, only then seeing the ruin of his neck clearly.
Two precise punctures, clean and merciless, carved deep by something sharp enough to shear straight through flesh.
Teeth.
He didn’t even have time to rise to his feet. She was on him before he could rise, seizing his collar in both fists. The fabric bunched tight against his throat as she yanked him upward with terrifying ease. His shoes scraped along the ground, searching for purchase, until the tips barely touched the dirt.
Her body pressed flush against his, her elbows wedging hard into his ribs, forcing the air from his lungs. She leaned close, cheek brushing his chest, chin tilted up so the tip of her nose pressed cold against the heat of his throat. The temperature difference jolted him. Her skin was icy, leeching the warmth from his. She inhaled, long and deliberate, nostrils flaring as she nuzzled against the racing vein under his jaw.
Kai trembled. Though his pulse rocketed through his entire body, a loud, hard thumping she listened to as she pressed her ear against the throbbing vein in his neck, he didn’t resist her. His hand braced against the wall, fingers splayed, the brick biting into his skin. Blood still lingered on his thumb, the cut from earlier weeping faintly.
Gingerly, like making peace with a feral cat, he drew his fingers across the side of her cheek. Slowly, his palm made contact with the fullness of her left cheek, urging her to look up and allowing him to cup it fully. His thumb slipped lower, pressing against the fullness of her lip. Gently, he tugged it down, smearing the bead of blood across her mouth, mixing with what already stained her teeth and chin.
Her pupils blew wide. She stared at him with an open mouth. Her tongue darted out across her lips and she inhaled hungrily through her nose.
A sharp gasp wrenched from him as she shoved him deeper into the wall, the impact bursting pain through his spine. Kai winced, but he didn’t release his grip on her. He didn’t fight her. His hand remained on her face, holding her as though she were something fragile instead of something that could break him in two.
The tremor in his hand was not fear. It was grief, deep and unrelenting, bleeding out of him with every touch.
His palm lingered against her cold skin. Reverent.
“Aira-chan.” Kai’s plea rasped out strangled, cracking on the syllables.
Her grip faltered. The sound of her name stilled her for a breath, though whether it was recognition or the unexpected lack of resistance, he couldn’t tell. She wanted him to fight, he knew that. That was the dance she demanded: hunter and hunted. She had stalked the shadows of the alley for prey, and he had walked straight into her waiting teeth.
It was what she’d been waiting for all night. Lurking in every dark space she could hide, she watched from afar, waiting for the moment he would drift off from the rest of the pack. She never hunted large groups of prey. No, she bided her time until she knew she had the advantage and struck when her prey was isolated and vulnerable.
She tipped her chin against his chest, her eyes lifting, wide and unblinking. She studied him with a kind of eerie patience, her gaze moving over his features like she was deciding how to dismantle him piece by piece.
Her fists loosened, just slightly. It was enough for him to draw air into his lungs, ragged and desperate. His back scraped down the wall as his feet found the ground again. His hand slid from her cheek but did not abandon her. Both traced slowly down her narrow frame, fingertips dragging over her shoulder blades until one anchored at the curve of her lower back, the other resting against her spine.
Still, her hands held his collar, keeping him in place if he decided to make a run for it.
But, he wasn’t going anywhere. This was exactly where he intended on being.
Nails scraped trails into his skin, leaving raised streaks that burned beneath her touch. She dragged across the swell of his Adam’s apple, the lines of his collarbones, following every place where blood pulsed close to the surface.
Then she found it.
Her fingers brushed over two small indents, the punctures still faintly tender beneath the thin layer of healing skin. Kai hissed through his teeth, the sharp breath escaping louder than he meant. Even now, after time had passed, the flesh there throbbed beneath any touch. He had only recently shed the last of the bandages, though his shirts remained high-collared, shielding the wound from curious eyes. No one would ever guess what it meant. No one except her.
And she wanted it visible.
Her hand hooked into his collar, jerking the fabric open until his neck was bare to her fully. The air hit his skin where it flushed red, the marks stark against his pale throat. He hoped it wouldn’t bruise. His reaction changed her tune somehow. Instead of digging her nails into places she wanted to bite, she traced it with the pad of her finger.
He searched her face for recognition. Sometimes it came quickly, a flicker in the eyes, the faint softening of her lips. Other times it took blood—his blood—to bring her back, to remind her of what bound them together. Who she had been to him. Who he had been to her. What exactly it was that they had now.
Despite his attempts to lock eyes with her, she didn’t settle. Her mouth parted, her canines poised for flesh, trembling with impatience. With anyone else she would not have lingered this long. Yet she always lingered with him. Some fragment of memory had survived the ruin of her body, a stubborn determination that still remembered him even through the thirst. She had changed into something cruel and ravenous, but she had not turned that cruelty against him—at least not deliberately. Even after death remade her, she still loved him.
That was why she followed him through the city’s alleys, silent in the shadows, her presence haunting every step he took after work. She watched him sleep. She crouched at his bedside, teeth poised over his throat, fighting herself in the seconds before she would tear through him. She never drank him dry. She only wanted the taste, the familiarity of it. She clung to him as though he were the last tether to her former life. He was home, and she could not leave.
He gave himself to her freely. He gave his blood, his fear, his body offered as prey, the illusion of the hunt to sate her instincts. He staggered, pretended, let her chase him down alleys until she caught him. Even tonight, he had nicked his thumb, daring her to follow. It worked. She obeyed the unspoken rules he wove between them, rules that gave her enough of what she needed to keep her from slaughtering at will. She was a predator, but she would only hunt him.
Or so he told himself.
The corpse at his feet proved otherwise. Whoever the man had been, he was nothing more than the price of her impatience. And it wasn’t even enough. She was still ravenous. Kai’s stomach churned as he glanced at the slumped body, but the revulsion no longer stunned him. He had grown accustomed to the aftermath. When Aira’s hunger broke its leash, he cleaned up. He staged scenes, misdirected investigations, and made the bodies disappear. A shovel in the cemetery at midnight, dirt packed tight before a morning funeral. A limp weight dragged into a pigsty, squeals rising as snouts tore through flesh and bone.
Most of all, he never expected to have to frame someone for a crime they didn’t commit—like the Iron Fangs. A body hadn’t been disposed of in time, and he couldn’t risk it tracing back to him or Aira. So he lured the Iron Fangs to the alley, letting them stumble over the corpse, entangling themselves with the evidence. He even used Souta for the finishing touch, urging him to take a piss in that very alley so he would catch the Iron Fangs at the scene, tying them to the murder. The setup worked flawlessly.
Kai hadn’t lost a second of sleep over it. The Iron Fangs were vermin, parasites feeding off the city’s underbelly. A cell was mercy compared to what they deserved.
But even knowing he was no saint, he felt no shame. The line between good and evil had dissolved the moment she came back to him with red in her eyes. None of it mattered now. Only she mattered. If her hunger demanded it, he would feed it. If she needed his blood, he would bleed for her. If she asked for every last breath, he would surrender that too. For as long as he had anything left to give, it belonged to her.
“You don’t have to worry, Aira,” he murmured, his hand pressing to the back of her neck. His fingers tangled in her hair as she leaned in, mouth seeking his throat. “I can take it.”
Even after countless times, the anxiety clawed at him. He was willing, but the memory of pain tightened his muscles, stiffening him in anticipation of the sharp prick of her canines. He hated the pain, and yet hated the thought of resisting her more.
Her arms tightened around his shoulders, holding him as though he might slip away. Her lips pressed against his neck, warm and wet, and then she bit down. The sharp puncture burned. Hot blood filled her mouth, and he could feel it, slick and coppery, trickling along her tongue as it dripped down his throat. She nuzzled him deeper, teeth grazing sensitive skin, tongue dragging along the edges of the wound. Every press, every movement, sent shudders up his spine.
His knees gave way, and he sank against the wall, letting her bear the weight of him. He couldn’t stay upright, slumping fully to the ground, and she moved with him, pressing close. His hands faltered on her shoulders before sliding down, tracing the curve of her back and settling at her waist, holding her loosely. Her knees found the ground on either side of his hips, anchoring them together. His eyes fluttered closed, lashes brushing against his cheekbones, every nerve alive with her presence.
The slow, relentless rhythm of her feeding consumed them. Kai felt it at all—the chill of her body, the tug of her arms, the pull of her teeth, the slick, hot trail of blood tracing between them—imprinted in his memory. He let it consume him.
When she finally drew back, lips streaked with his blood, eyes wide and luminous, he exhaled shakily. The alley was quiet, save for the faint drip of blood onto the cobblestones.
Kai’s hand pressed to his neck, fingers slick with blood, and he held her gaze, searching. Recognition hovered behind her eyes, tentative but undeniable, and it made his chest tighten. She tilted her head forward, and their foreheads met, her skin pressing against his. Stray strands of white hair fell around them, framing a fragile world they shared alone. He could feel the steady pulse of her heartbeat through their chests pressed together, the faint rise and fall of her breath mingling with his own. They stayed like that for a long moment, one where he drank up every detail he could, as if memorizing her for the last time. She did the same.
A quiet resolve gathered in his chest. Words formed unbidden, impossible to hold back.
“I’ll always be here,” he whispered, hoarse. “All of me is yours.”
Her lips parted slightly, breath hitching as her voice trembled from lack of use. “Kai…”
No words were needed. The city beyond the alley ceased to exist and only the two of them remained. In that terrible, suspended closeness, Kai felt a grim, unshakable peace.
Somehow, in the darkness, they had carved a life together. Harder, darker, and far more dangerous than anything before, but theirs nonetheless.
It was a chance Kai would never give up. Not for the world, not for anything.