Chapter Text
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The man ran. He ran and ran, for today would be the last day of his life. And no one would remember him.
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Sae Itoshi chased after him, dagger steady in his hand.
Really, lukewarms like this were such a hassle — nothing more than obstacles for him to obliterate.
Sae threw the dagger, aiming at the man. It pierced through his chest, the tip of it tearing through flesh and bone.
He made a strangled gasp, spluttering for air.
Sae huffed a breath — they hadn't lied when they said the mission would be tough. Still, Sae Itoshi could handle anything.
He knelt beside the body, grabbing his now crimson stained knife from the corspe.
Everyone who had been alive in the building was dead.
Or so Sae thought.
There was the sudden thud of boots somewhere behind, announcing someone's arrival.
Sae whipped around, his brows furrowing.
Had he been mistaken? Surely not.
Bright pink eyes stared across the alleyway as a man stepped from the corner of the alley, sharp eyes meeting Sae's even sharper ones.
Pink and teal.
Fire and ice.
A God and a Devil.
They're never apart for long.
Sae scoffed, standing up with his dagger in hand.
One more kill wouldn't be much.
Ryusei Shidou.
It was a rather difficult target at that.
Shidou grinned at him, shameless as ever — only then did Sae notice the blood staining his hands, the color dark and brutal, his black-painted nails barely visible under all the crimson.
His gun still had smoke curling out of the tip, and given the way his shoulders were tense as well as the split lip, Sae assumed he had completed a mission as well.
His blond hair with those absurd bright pink tips was tied into a ponytail.
"Hey, underlashes."
Ugh, that stupid nickname again. It was disgusting — infuriating.
Itoshi Sae was a well-known assasian known for killing brutally and mercilessly.
So why was such a childish nickname given to him? Shidou had no right whatsoever to call him that anyway, but nothing ever really seemed to stop the latter from doing it. Really, it seemed like Shidou loved annoying Sae. Like he thrived on it.
"Maldición," Sae cursed under his breath.
Shidou's grin only widened.
"What do you want." He demanded, glaring at Shidou.
"Relax, I only wanna talk." Shidou said, lifting his hands in mock surrender, gun still in his hand.
"However, I don't want to." Sae mumbled, rolling his eyes.
Really, he was much too exhausted to deal with yet another lukewarm idiot.
And to no one's surprise, Shidou just wouldn't leave the matter alone.
"Oh, c'mon, underlashes! It's from co-operate."
Of course, it was from co-operate.
Sae's body was aching. Had people no consideration? Supposedly not.
"Leave me be, demon." Sae scoffed.
It was more request than demand, but Itoshis were never one to plead.
Sae had never been taught — he had learned.
And unfortunately, those were leasons that were impossible to forget.
Relax, would you? I'm not planning anything stupid yet." Shidou huffed, breath leaving him in a lazy exhale—like none of this mattered, like Sae wasn’t standing there coiled tight as a loaded gun.
He barely had time to say another word before Sae was sprinting towards him—fast, precise, lethal—his knee slamming into Shidou’s stomach with a force that should have folded him in half.
It should have knocked the air out of him. Should have wiped that expression clean off his face.
It didn’t.
If anything, it only made it worse.
Shidou’s grin split wider—feral, delighted—like pain was nothing more than a punchline.
A laugh tore out of him, sharp and barking, his head tipping back toward the sky like Sae had just delivered the joke of the century instead of trying to cave his ribs in.
"Someone's in a bad mood, eh?" Shidou said, voice lilting with mockery, ear piercings catching the faint light as he tilted his head—studying him, enjoying him.
Sae scowled.
Shidou Ryusei was an immature, lukewarm idiot. Reckless. Unhinged. A man who treated bloodshed like entertainment.
And yet—
One of the greatest assassins alive. Right alongside Sae.
And Sae hadn’t the faintest clue how.
Even so, he refused to show the respect he knew—knew—Shidou had earned.
Sae moved again. Fast. Brutal. Relentless.
Strike after strike—clean, calculated, meant to end things quickly.
And yet—
Every single one missed.
Shidou moved like he wasn’t even trying. No guard. No stance. Just slipping past each blow like water, like instinct alone, carried him through.
It was infuriating.
Sae surged forward, grabbing him by the collar, yanking him down—then slammed his head forward.
The crack of the headbutt rang sharp in the alley.
Shidou winced—just barely—his body flinching before he straightened again, eyes narrowing as his grin faltered into something thinner. Sharper.
"God, are you always this way?" he muttered, rubbing his forehead with the heel of his palm, irritation threading through his voice now.
Sae didn’t answer.
Didn’t need to.
"What are you here for, anyway?" Sae snarled instead, brushing invisible dust off his suit jacket—controlled, composed, like the violence hadn’t just happened.
"I told ya," Shidou replied, squinting slightly, voice still too casual. "I'm here to take you to cooperate."
Sae scoffed, the sound cold and cutting. "So, one of the greatest assassins is a messenger boy now?" His lips curled faintly. "How the great have fallen."
And that—
That landed.
Because the next second—
Pain exploded across Sae’s face.
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