Kaito noticed the change in the city before anything else.
The streets were still full—vendors shouting prices, children darting between carts, the smell of oil and bread heavy in the air—but something underneath it all felt… muted. As if the city itself had leaned back, listening.
He slowed his pace by half a step.
Dex felt it moments later.
The husky's stride adjusted, paws landing softer against the stone. His ears angled back, not flat—alert, calculating. His icy blue eyes scanned reflections in windows, puddles left from morning wash, the curved blades of hanging signs.
"Easy," Kaito murmured under his breath, not turning his head.
They continued forward.
Behind them, someone did the same.
The man did not skulk or skitter through shadows. He walked openly, hands relaxed at his sides, pace unhurried. He didn't rush to close the distance, nor did he linger so far back that he could be dismissed. He stayed exactly where someone confident would stand.
That alone told Kaito everything he needed to know.
A hunter, he thought. Not a killer. Not yet.
Kaito turned left—then right—then down a narrower street where the buildings leaned close enough that voices echoed strangely. He watched reflections ripple and bend. The presence never disappeared.
Dex glanced back once.
The man met the husky's gaze without flinching—and smiled.
It wasn't a cruel smile. It wasn't friendly either. It was the smile of someone who had just confirmed a suspicion.
Kaito exhaled slowly through his nose.
They reached a small square where an old fountain sat dry and cracked, its basin filled with fallen leaves and dust. No guards. No crowd. Only the wind threading through the stone.
Kaito stopped.
Dex stepped forward instantly, placing himself half a body-length in front of Kaito, shoulders squared, a low rumble vibrating in his chest.
"Well," the man said from behind them, voice calm and unforced, "that answers that."
Kaito turned.
Up close, the man was painfully ordinary. Brown hair. Unremarkable clothes. No visible weapons. No scars worn as warnings. His eyes, however, were sharp in a way that made Kaito's instincts tighten.
"You've been following me," Kaito said.
"Yes."
No denial. No excuse.
"Why?"
The man's gaze flicked to the spear—just for a heartbeat—then to Dex. "Because, you don't act or fight normally. "
Kaito didn't react.
The hunter continued, conversational. "Most people who survive the things you've survived leave traces. Residue. Scars. You don't."
Dex's growl deepened.
"Good dog," the man said mildly. "You trained him well."
Kaito's fingers tightened around the spear's shaft. He felt the familiar pressure beneath his skin—the heat stirring, testing his restraint. He crushed it down without effort.
"I don't want trouble," Kaito said.
The man chuckled softly. "That's what everyone says. But you don't invite attention like you did and expect it not to arrive."
"So you're here to fight me?" Kaito asked.
"No." The hunter shook his head. "Not today. Today was curiosity."
He stepped sideways, slow and deliberate, testing angles. Dex mirrored him, teeth bared, eyes locked.
"You saved a girl without spectacle," the man went on. "No magic. Just precision."
A pause.
"Others won't appreciate that," the hunter said. "They'll push you. Corner you. Try to make you show what you're hiding."
Kaito's voice was flat. "And you?"
"I observe ," the man replied. "Watch over you may say."
The wind stirred the leaves in the fountain basin. For a moment, the square felt like the center of a drawn bowstring—taut, waiting.
"If you keep moving the way you are," the hunter said, stepping back, "we'll meet again. Either because you want answers… or because you've run out of places to hide."
"Who are you?" Kaito asked.
The man smiled faintly, already turning away. "Someone paid not to underestimate you."
And then he was gone—melting into the city not by speed, but by belonging to it.
The square felt exposed after he left.
Kaito let out a slow breath. Dex looked up at him, ears flicking, waiting for command.
"We're being watched now," Kaito said quietly. "Which means mistakes are no longer mine alone."
Dex pressed his shoulder against Kaito's leg, steady and warm.
Kaito rested a hand on the husky's head, eyes scanning the streets ahead. The blue tips of the spear remained dim.
But somewhere in the city—and beyond it—someone had begun measuring the distance between control and catastrophe.