A thin ribbon of light crept through the heavy curtains of Kira's apartment, but somehow the room felt more suffocating than ever.
Kira stood at the window, gripping her phone so tightly her knuckles had gone white. Her eyes burned from staring at the screen, checking it over and over again. Nothing. Not a single message. No missed calls.
She exhaled shakily, her thumb tracing circles around Ryujin's contact. One more try. Just one more.
The phone rang once... twice... four times...
"Hi, you've reached—"
She hung up before the voicemail could finish.
"Ryujin... please..." The words barely made it past her lips. She let the phone slip from her fingers onto the couch and collapsed beside it, pulling a cushion against her chest like armor.
"Where the hell are you?" she whispered into the fabric. "I told you to stay out of this. I begged you not to get involved." Her voice cracked. "But you never listen to me, do you?"
The questions wouldn't stop coming. Should she call the police? What would she even tell them? That her... what was Ryujin to her, anyway? That he'd disappeared while trying to help with something she couldn't even explain properly? Would they believe any of it? Could she trust them with the truth?
Her ankle throbbed, a constant reminder of how everything had spiraled out of control.
"Two days," she muttered. "The concert's in two days and I can barely stand, let alone perform." She pressed her face into the cushion. "What's the point of anything anymore? Everyone always leaves in the end..."
The sharp trill of her ringtone cut through the silence like a knife. Her heart jumped into her throat.
She dove for the phone.
"Hello?! Ryuj—"
"Hey there, nee-chan! How've you been?"
Kira's shoulders sagged. "Oh... Hanae. Hi."
The excitement drained from her voice like air from a punctured balloon.
"I'm okay... what about you? Look, I'm sorry I haven't called since... since everything happened. I didn't want to make things worse between you and your mom—"
"She's still being herself," Hanae cut in, her tone surprisingly light. "But forget about her. I just wanted to check on you. How's your leg doing? Any better?"
Kira shifted uncomfortably. "The doctor says I need at least a month before it's fully healed."
"A whole month? That sucks. I was hoping we could hang out at Luna's concert... but if you're not going to be there—"
"I'm sorry, Hanae," Kira said, guilt twisting in her stomach. "I really wanted to... you have no idea how much."
"Hey, don't beat yourself up about it," Hanae said quickly. "Maybe Luna should just cancel too, you know? Give herself a break."
Something cold settled in Kira's chest. The irony of it all pressed down on her like a weight.
"I don't think that's how it works... These things are complicated. She's got a lot of people counting on her," she managed.
A pause stretched between them.
"Yeah... I guess you're right," Hanae said finally, her voice quieter now. "That's just how the world works."
Kira swallowed hard. "Hanae... you won't leave me too, will you?"
A soft laugh came through the phone. "Nee-chan, why would I go anywhere? You're my only sister. I'm not going anywhere, ever."
Something loosened in Kira's chest. Those simple words felt like the first real warmth she'd felt in days.
"Hanae, I—"
"Sorry, nee-chan, I've got to run. My bodyguard's here. Take care of yourself, okay? Bye!"
The line went dead.
Kira stared at the blank screen as it slowly dimmed. The silence rushed back in, filling every corner of the room.
She was still holding the phone when it rang again.
Hope flared in her chest like a match struck in darkness. "Ryujin?" she whispered, fumbling to answer. "Hello?!"
"Whoa, easy there. It's just me—Renn."
The match went out. "Oh... Renn."
"Sorry if I scared you," he said with a nervous chuckle. "Just wanted to see how you're holding up. How's the ankle situation?"
Kira slumped back against the couch. "Still pretty messed up. Doctor says I need at least a month of rest."
"A month?" Renn groaned. "That's... not exactly ideal timing with the concert in two days."
"Tell me about it."
"Which brings me to why I'm calling," Renn continued, his tone shifting to business mode. "I need to finalize the venue booking. I've got a couple of solid options lined up, but I need to know—are we doing this or not?"
Kira felt her throat close up. "I... I honestly don't know. I want to, but everything's falling apart, Renn. Ryujin's missing. I can't even think about singing when I don't know if he's okay."
The silence stretched for a moment. Then Renn's voice came back, gentler this time.
"I get it. But if we're going to cancel, we need to pull the trigger now. There are fans flying in from all over the country. I'm not going to push you, Kira, but you need to be real with me—and with yourself."
Kira rubbed her temples. "I made you a promise. I said I'd do this."
"And I made you a promise too—that I'd look out for you, even when you won't look out for yourself," Renn replied, his voice somewhere between teasing and serious. "So just... breathe for a minute. Make the decision when you're ready, not because everyone else expects it."
She didn't answer right away. Instead, she let out a shaky laugh. "You always know exactly what to say to mess with my head."
"It's a gift. Comes with the territory of being your manager-slash-therapist-slash-emotional punching bag," he said lightly. "Listen, I won't bug you about it anymore. Just let me know what you decide, okay?"
"I will," Kira said quietly. "Thanks, Renn."
"Anytime. And hey—don't give up hope. If Ryujin's out there, he'll find his way back."
Kira nodded even though he couldn't see her. "Yeah... I hope so."
After he hung up, she walked to the window and pressed her forehead against the cool glass.
"Ryujin... wherever you are... please be okay. Please come back. I don't care about Luna or keeping secrets or any of it anymore. I just need you to be safe. I can't lose anyone else. Not again."
---
The Basement
In the damp, concrete basement, Ryujin's body hung limp in the chair, rope cutting into his wrists and ankles. Blood had dried in his hair, dark against his pale skin.
A black cloth covered his eyes and mouth, reducing him to nothing more than a shadow in the dim light.
Footsteps echoed across the floor—deliberate, unhurried. The sound of expensive shoes on cheap concrete.
A figure in black emerged from the shadows, his face hidden behind a smooth, featureless mask. Kairos.
"Oji-san... what did you do to him? Please tell me he's not dead."
The old tattoo shop owner looked up from his corner. "Ah, Kairos! There you are. Relax, he's still breathing. Just had to knock him out—kid was fighting like hell. Even tried to take a swing at our Ritsu here."
From the far side of the basement, a teenager stepped forward. His expression gave nothing away.
Kairos didn't seem surprised. "He's dangerous. Too close to Kira. And he works in cybersecurity—he'll track down leads even if I cover my tracks perfectly. You should consider moving locations."
The old man waved dismissively. "You worry too much, boy. We'll be fine. You should be focusing on your next move."
Kairos paused, his voice dropping to something colder, sharper.
"Actually, that's not the only reason I'm here. I have a job for Ritsu."
The seventeen-year-old straightened up. "What do you need, Kairos-nii?"
"There's a location I need you to check out."
"Whose place?"
Kairos's voice turned deadly quiet. "The person who hurt Kira."
Ritsu's eyes lit up with interest. "Got it."
In the weak glow of a single overhead bulb, Ryujin's fingers twitched slightly. A muffled groan escaped from behind the gag. But none of them noticed.
The basement swallowed the sound whole, and the silence pressed down like a weight.
---