Chapter Text
I make it three streets.
Three.
Before my legs give out.
Not from exhaustion.
Not from injury.
From emotional structural failure.
I sit down on the edge of a concrete stair outside an abandoned storefront like a man who has just survived a war. My lungs burn. My chest feels too small for my heart. My hands are shaking again, worse than before, and I am suddenly very aware of the fact that I am smiling.
That is unacceptable.
I wipe my mouth violently.
The smile does not go away.
“Disgusting,” I mutter.
My phone vibrates.
I flinch so hard I almost fall off the step.
A message.
Nakajima Atsushi:
I’M HOME I DIDN’T GET HIT BY A CAR OR DIE OR ANYTHING I PROMISE
Another vibration.
Nakajima Atsushi:
I’M SORRY THAT WAS WEIRD I JUST PANICKED
Another.
Nakajima Atsushi:
I’M REALLY HAPPY
Another.
Nakajima Atsushi:
ARE YOU OKAY
I stare at the screen.
This is a nightmare.
This is a hallucination.
This is a punishment from God.
And yet—
My fingers move.
Akutagawa:
Stop typing like you are on fire.
Three seconds.
Nakajima Atsushi:
OKAY
Two seconds.
Nakajima Atsushi:
sorry.
I close my eyes.
My heart does something stupid again.
I do not survive this week.
When I get home, the apartment is silent.
Too silent.
Not peaceful.
Predatory.
I remove my shoes slowly.
Carefully.
Like I am entering a trap.
The lights are off.
The air feels charged.
Then—
“Hi, Ryu.”
I freeze.
Gin is sitting on the couch in the dark.
Legs crossed.
Hands folded in her lap.
Mask off.
Calm.
Serene.
Terrifying.
“…Explain,” I say flatly.
She smiles.
It is small.
Soft.
Deadly.
“You’ll see.”
I snap.
“DO NOT SAY THAT PHRASE TO ME.”
She tilts her head. “You saw.”
“…You weaponised the weretiger.”
“I guided the weretiger.”
“You emotionally armed him.”
“He needed courage.”
“You gave him my name.”
She blinks. “He asked.”
Silence.
“…You told him I liked him.”
She hums.
Hums.
HUMS.
My eye twitches.
“You are going to explain,” I say quietly, “before I lose my last shred of sanity.”
She stands.
Walks over.
Looks at me the way she did when we were children.
When I had nightmares.
When I couldn’t breathe.
When the world was too loud.
“You have been in love with him for a long time,” she says gently.
“I am not—”
“You memorise his injuries.”
Silence.
“You track his heart rate in fights.”
Silence.
“You change your combat patterns when he is near.”
Silence.
“You soften your killing intent.”
That one hurts.
“You never call him ‘weretiger’ when you are angry,” she continues. “Only when you’re afraid.”
My throat locks.
“…You are projecting.”
“No,” she says. “I am observing.”
She steps closer.
“You look at him like he is fragile glass and holy fire at the same time.”
I cannot speak.
“You didn’t even realise you were protecting him.”
“…Stop.”
“You didn’t even realise you were hoping.”
I look away.
My voice is hoarse. “He is my enemy.”
Gin’s voice is soft.
“No. He is your mirror.”
I exhale.
Long.
Slow.
Broken.
“…You manipulated him.”
“Yes.”
“You interfered.”
“Yes.”
“You engineered this.”
“Yes.”
She smiles faintly.
“Because you would never have done it yourself.”
Silence fills the room.
Heavy.
Thick.
Unavoidable.
“…He practiced my name.”
Her expression softens.
“He wanted to say it right.”
“…He was terrified.”
“He was brave anyway.”
My chest tightens.
“…He looked at me like I mattered.”
Gin steps closer.
Touches my sleeve.
“You do.”
Her voice lowers.
“You always have.”
Something in me cracks.
Not loudly.
Not violently.
Quietly.
Like ice breaking under still water.
“…If he gets hurt,” I whisper.
She answers immediately.
“He won’t.”
“…If the Mafia uses him—”
“I won’t allow it.”
“…If Mori—”
Her eyes harden.
“He will not touch him.”
Silence again.
But different.
Safer.
“…You planned this for how long?”
She thinks.
“…Six months.”
I close my eyes.
“Gin.”
“Yes?”
“You are a criminal mastermind.”
“I learned from the best.”
I sigh.
Exhausted.
Overwhelmed.
Ruined.
“…He asked me on a date.”
“I know.”
“…I said yes.”
“I know.”
“…He said my name.”
Her voice softens.
“I know.”
Silence.
Then—
“…What if I fail him?”
She looks at me.
Really looks.
Not as an assassin.
Not as a weapon.
Not as the Port Mafia’s dog.
As her brother.
“You will,” she says simply.
And then—
“You will also protect him.”
“…Those are contradictory.”
“No,” she says. “They are human.”
I sit down.
My strength finally gone.
My mind loud.
My heart louder.
My phone vibrates again.
Nakajima Atsushi:
I was thinking maybe a café?? Or a park?? Or both?? Sorry that’s too much isn’t it
Another.
YOU DON’T HAVE TO ANSWER YET I’M JUST THINKING OUT LOUD
Another.
I’M REALLY NERVOUS
I stare at the screen.
Gin peeks over my shoulder.
Smiles.
“Answer him.”
“…I do not do cafés.”
“Then say that.”
“…I do not do parks.”
“Then suggest something else.”
“…I do not do emotions.”
She laughs.
Actually laughs.
Soft.
Warm.
Rare.
“Too late.”
My fingers move.
Me:
Somewhere quiet. No crowds. No Agency members. No Mafia surveillance.
Three dots.
Nakajima Atsushi:
THAT SOUNDS PERFECT
My chest aches.
“…He is going to destroy me.”
Gin rests her head on my shoulder.
“Good.”
“…You are evil.”
“I am your sister.”
Silence.
Then—
“…What if I like this.”
Her voice is gentle.
“Then you are alive.”
I close my eyes.
For the first time in a very long time—
The future does not feel like a battlefield.
It feels like a door.
And somehow—
Some impossibly—
It is open.