He barely stifled the outburst, but his entire body recoiled. His stomach lurched.
What the hell is that?! The omega collapsed forward, gasping, but Rin couldn't tear his eyes away from the mess between them.
That's not—that can't be—
His pulse pounded in his ears.
Kai, still breathing hard, turned his head just enough to meet Rin's horrified stare.
And then he had the audacity to smirk.
Rin's eye twitched.
This bastard…
He exhaled sharply through his nose, forcing his expression back into icy neutrality...
The compartment door slid open with a soft click. Rin didn't flinch.
He was seated stiffly at the edge of the bed, arms wrapped around himself, trembling slightly. Not from fear. Not even from rage.
From cold.
The window beside him was flung wide open, and the Trans-Siberian night wind had flooded the room, crisp and bitter, seeping into the walls and into Rin's bones. Snowflakes danced at the sill, glittering like tiny daggers of spite.
Kai stepped inside, towel wrapped around his head like a smug halo, steam still clinging to his freshly showered skin. He wore nothing but a black tank and joggers, his scent clean and sharpened by mint, soap, and something dangerously Kai.
He paused at the doorway, one eyebrow raised.
"Why are you trying to freeze yourself to death?" he asked, smirking as he leaned against the doorframe.
Rin didn't even look at him as he shut the window with a dull thunk.
"…Whose fault do you think it is," Rin muttered, voice tight.
"Oh, mine?" Kai said, pretending to sound scandalized. "I didn't expect you to just sit there and watch. Most people know to give some privacy when their roommate's getting rail—"
"Don't finish that sentence." Rin snapped, jaw clenching so hard he could feel it echoing in his molars.
Kai chuckled, rubbing the towel through his hair lazily. "You could've gone to the lounge car. I would've even paid for your hot chocolate."
"I'm not the one who decided to defile public transportation," Rin shot back. "Besides—why leave when I was getting porn premium for free?"
Kai froze for a second… and then tilted his head with a crooked grin.
"Wow. Porn premium. So you do know how to say nice things."
Rin rubbed his face aggressively, dragging his palm down like he could scrub the memory out of his brain.
"Please. Shut up."
"What is wrong with his brain to consider that a compliment? Never mind. He's a lost cause. I shouldn't even engage. That'll only encourage him…"
Kai walked further in, tossing the towel onto the bedpost, droplets still clinging to the ends of his hair. Rin didn't dare look directly at him.
"Don't look. Don't engage. He'll say something stupid. He always does."
Rin stood up abruptly and walked toward the narrow washroom at the back of the compartment, grabbing a towel along the way.
But of course—Kai opened his mouth again.
"I've been wondering," Kai said idly, voice slow and too amused. "You've got a very nice scent, you know. Sharp. Clean. Something citrusy underneath it... makes it hard to concentrate sometimes." He smiled lazily. "Which makes me wonder—are you really the Alpha you claim to be?"
Rin stopped. Turned slowly.
"Excuse me?"
Kai leaned back casually, arms crossed over his chest, eyes glinting with mischief.
"I mean… with pheromones like that? Either you're lying, or you're suppressing. Hard. Most Alphas don't smell like teasing restraint. You? You smell like you're hiding a ticking time bomb under that suit."
Rin narrowed his eyes.
"And what, exactly, makes you think I'm not an Alpha?"
Kai's grin widened.
"Well," he drawled, "for one—you're calm. Always calculating. That's not typical. Most Alphas have terrible impulse control." He stepped forward slowly. "And your body structure… leaner. Not built like a tank. You don't strut around like you're desperate to prove something. You hold it all in. Real tight." He stopped right in front of Rin, voice dropping low. "It's suspicious."
Rin didn't step back. He stared Kai down like he was solving a murder.
"I'm built for speed, not ego," Rin said coolly. "And if I was an Omega, you'd have figured it out the first time we fought. Not from scent. From how badly I would've broken your jaw."
Kai blinked once, surprised—then smiled like he was trying not to laugh.
"Got him." Rin thought, satisfied.
Kai leaned in a little closer, lips curved.
"See? That tone. That rage. Now that's Alpha energy."
"He's playing a game. He always is." Rin reminded himself. "He's baiting me. And the second I rise to it, he'll twist the narrative like he always does."
"…You're ridiculous," Rin muttered, brushing past him toward the bathroom.
"Thank you," Kai called after him. "That's the nicest thing you've said all day."
"I hope your next hookup is with an angry Siberian bear," Rin thought darkly, slamming the door shut behind him.
The bathroom door slid open with a hiss of steam, fog curling out into the compartment like smoke from a slow fire. Rin stepped out, towel slung loosely around his hips, his damp hair slicked back, water trailing down the lean lines of his torso. He looked carved from discipline—every muscle taut, sharp, controlled.
But Kai's gaze didn't go to his chest first. It dropped lower.
"Well, well," Kai drawled from his bunk, one arm behind his head like he'd been waiting this entire time just to say something inappropriate. "Nice nipple piercings, by the way."
Rin didn't flinch. He picked up his shirt from the chair.
"Thanks," he said flatly, as though they were talking about socks.
He began pulling on his compression shirt, movement fluid and unbothered, his eyes never leaving the task. But even as he dressed, the towel around his waist dipped for a second—low enough to expose the start of a sharp V-line and the faintest trail of dark hair leading down.
Kai clicked his tongue. "You're not even trying, and you're already committing war crimes."
Rin didn't respond. Just buttoned up his shirt.
"You've got a very sexy body," Kai continued, voice low and amused. "But your lower half? That's criminal. Especially those hips. Damn near scandalous." He chuckled to himself, eyes gleaming. "Alpha with hips like that… almost makes me question your classification."
Rin sighed audibly and turned to face him, half-dressed, his coat slung over one shoulder like he was seconds away from walking out into a blizzard just to avoid this conversation.
"Why does he always talk like that? Like every sentence is a trap he's setting just to watch me squirm. I won't give him the satisfaction."
He stared Kai down, unblinking.
"Sexual harassment is still a crime on international railways, you know."
Kai shrugged with a shit-eating grin. "Good thing we're not on international soil yet. Still Siberia. Lawless. Free speech."
Rin rolled his eyes, pulling his coat on sharply.
"If I were a lesser man, I'd deck him. Or worse—blush. But no. That's what he wants. This is what he does. Pokes. Prods. Waits to see who breaks first. He's like a child with a magnifying glass, and I'm the ant he won't stop hovering over."
"Are you done objectifying me?" Rin asked dryly, adjusting his gloves.
"Almost," Kai said, still lounging with that insufferable confidence. "But for the record, I wasn't objectifying. I was appreciating. You should let yourself be admired sometimes. It's healthy."
Rin tilted his head slightly, expression unreadable.
"Admiration from you feels less like a compliment and more like being stalked by a very horny cat."
Kai laughed. "That's fair. But you're still standing there, letting me talk."
Rin didn't respond at first. He just stared at Kai—his gaze sharp, unreadable, like someone mentally weighing the worst-case scenario against the best possible lie. Finally, after a long, tension-thick pause, Rin let out a sigh that wasn't quite relief.
"So," he said, voice low. "What did you do to Morgan? You said you'd 'handle it.'"
Kai smiled, slow and lazy, still lounging back like this was just another day on the train and not the aftermath of torture and bloodshed.
"Mm, yes. I did."
"Did you kill him?" Rin asked, eyes narrowing slightly.
Kai made a small, almost theatrical hum, tapping his chin in mock thought. "I considered it… for a moment. But then I thought, hmm, why waste a perfectly good asset?"
Rin's jaw tensed. "You didn't."
"Oh, I didn't," Kai replied, smirking. "I locked him up. Nice place. Warm, damp, echoey. I think the rats like him."
Rin folded his arms. "What if he escapes?"
"Ah," Kai said, his smirk growing wider, "so you were expecting me to kill him, huh? How cruel of you, Rin-chan."
"That's not what I meant," Rin muttered. "Our entire plan collapses if he talks. You do know that."
Kai tilted his head, the lights from the train flickering across his eyes. "Don't worry. He won't be going anywhere unless I say so."
Rin didn't reply right away. He stared at Kai again—scrutinizing every flicker of expression, every curl of that ever-present smirk.
He's a liar. A manipulator. A walking smokescreen. But when he says something like that… something in his voice feels absolute. Like a promise made by a devil you know you shouldn't believe, but you still do. As much as I hate it... I do believe him. Oddly.
That means I can focus. No loose ends. All attention on Ao Takeda.
Rin pulled his coat around him tighter, glancing at the digital time display on the compartment wall. "Phone," he said flatly, reaching for Kai's phone on the small side table.
"Phone?" Kai repeated, arching a brow. "You gonna call in a hit from the bathroom?"
But Rin didn't answer. He unlocked the phone with ease—Kai didn't even ask how Rin knew the passcode—and tapped through to the call app with practiced fingers.
"もしもし,お母さん?"
(Moshi moshi, okaasan?)
"Hey, Mom?"
His tone shifted completely. Lighter. Warmer. Softer in a way that felt… bizarre coming from someone who once threatened to scalp a man alive. It was so startling, Kai actually sat up a little.
"うん…うん,大丈夫.列車は順調に走ってる."
(Un... un, daijoubu. Ressha wa junchou ni hashitteru.)
"Yeah… yeah, I'm okay. The train's running smoothly."
Kai blinked. Rin was smiling. Genuinely smiling. What the hell.
"雪が降ってて,すごく綺麗だよ."
(Yuki ga futte te, sugoku kirei da yo.)
"It's snowing here. Really beautiful."
Then Rin laughed—an actual laugh—and Kai was caught between fascination and mild horror.
"由太はどう?まだ漫画に夢中?"
(Yuta wa dou? Mada manga ni muchuu?)
"How's Yuta? Still obsessed with manga?"
He paused, listening to the response, then let out a soft chuckle.
"うん,それっぽい.彼が漫画家になりたいって,前に言ってたよね?"
(Un, soreppoi. Kare ga mangaka ni naritai tte, mae ni itteta yo ne?)
"Yeah, that sounds like him. He said he wanted to be a mangaka, right?"
Kai tilted his head, eyes squinting. "...The hell is a 'mangaka'?"
Rin ignored him completely.
"母さん,ちゃんと休んでる?無理しないでね."
(Kaasan, chanto yasunderu? Muri shinai de ne.)
"Are you resting properly? Don't overdo it, okay?"
"...うん,俺も気をつける."
(Un, ore mo ki wo tsukeru.)
"Yeah, I'll be careful too."
He ended the call after a few more seconds and handed the phone back to Kai without a word.
Kai stared at him like he was a museum artifact that had just started singing pop songs.
"What the hell was that?" he asked finally.
"What?" Rin replied, brushing nonexistent lint from his sleeve.
"You. Speaking a whole Disney subplot in Japanese. Laughing. What's next? You gonna knit me a scarf?"
Rin rolled his eyes. "It's called having a family."
"You talked like a human," Kai said, almost genuinely disturbed. "Do you do that often?"
"Only when you're not around," Rin replied coolly, adjusting his scarf.
He's so nosy. Just because I talked to my mom like a functioning member of society doesn't mean I'm going soft. And I swear, if he brings up my brother again just to mess with me, I might actually push him off this train.
"Let me guess," Kai said, smirking again, "you're the brooding older brother type who secretly makes bento for his younger sibling, huh?"
"No," Rin said, expression blank. "I pay for his therapy."
Kai paused. "...Wow."
Rin looked at him. "What?"
"I think I'm in love."
"Please die," Rin muttered, pulling out his notebook and flipping to the surveillance notes for Ao Takeda.
Kai smiled to himself, the smirk never quite leaving.
He's got layers. Dangerous ones. I just wish I didn't want to peel them off so badly.
Kai lay sprawled upside down across his train bed, his head hanging just over the edge, golden hair tousled like he'd been wrestling ghosts. He watched Rin with a smirk that barely concealed the glee bubbling under his skin.
"So you're like… a mama's boy," Kai said, drawling the words out slowly, as if savoring the taste of them.
Rin, seated at the small desk with a pen in hand and pages of notes spread before him, didn't even look up. His jaw shifted slightly. Just slightly. But Kai saw it—and that was enough.
Rin's voice was even. "What makes you think I'm one?"
Kai grinned wider, still upside down, like a child who'd figured out the weak spot in a video game boss.
"I always wondered what a mama's boy looked like," he said. "And now there's one right in front of me. Soft voice, phone call with Mom, laughter. It was kinda cute. Unsettling, but cute."
Rin finally lifted his gaze, slowly, pencil pausing mid-note. His stare was like cold steel dragged across glass—silent, but sharp enough to cut through bone.
"It's always the ignorant ones," Rin said, his tone like silk over a dagger, "who run their mouths like they know everything."
Kai's grin didn't falter. "Touché."
He thinks 'mama's boy' is an insult. But he doesn't know the kind of woman who raised me. Or the kind of family I protect. What I'm willing to do for them. He doesn't realize I'd burn down half the world for one smile from her. Not because I'm soft. But because I learned loyalty from the only person who ever showed it to me unconditionally.
And I'll never apologize for that.
"You looked happy, though," Kai said, flipping onto his side now, propping his chin in his palm. "Almost… human. Was that weird for you?"
"I'm always human," Rin replied curtly, turning back to his notes.
Kai tilted his head. "Debatable."
Rin scribbled something sharp and precise across the paper, refusing to take the bait. But Kai—Kai didn't need his attention to keep talking.
"You know what's crazy, Rin?" he said, tapping his own chin. "You act all stoic and cold, but it's the little cracks that give you away. The way you talked to your mom—soft voice, relaxed shoulders, the tiniest smile. The same guy who threatened to slice Morgan open like a melon. That guy can be warm? I mean, damn. The duality."
This is how he works. Slice, poke, charm. He talks until you're not sure if you want to punch him or laugh. Maybe both.
He thinks peeling me open like one of his omega flings will earn him something. That behind the silence there's a truth he deserves to know. But he's wrong.
There's nothing beneath this surface that he'd want to find. Only war zones.
"I don't smile for people like you," Rin said bluntly, flipping the page with a snap.
"Ouch. Brutal." Kai put a hand over his heart in mock pain. "And yet, I still find you endearing. What does that say about me?"
"You're broken," Rin muttered.
Kai grinned. "Aren't we both?"
A silence fell between them. Not empty—charged. Like static before a storm.
Kai rolled back onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. "Your mom sounded sweet, by the way. The kind of person who packs your lunch and writes your name in tiny hearts."
"She's the kind of person who can kill a wild boar with a kitchen knife," Rin said without looking up.
Kai paused.
"…No way."
"She once knocked out three men for calling me a slur when I was eight."
"…Okay. So, your mom's terrifying," Kai said, now staring at Rin like he was seeing him for the first time. "That explains so much about you. Suddenly everything makes sense."
"Glad your tiny brain caught up."
"Damn. So, when's the wedding?"
Rin blinked. "...What?"
Kai beamed. "Me and your mom. I like her already."
Rin finally looked at him again. "You want to die in your sleep or awake?"
Kai gave him finger guns. "Surprise me."
Rin leaned back slightly, his sharp eyes locked onto Kai's face. Something had been bothering him—not a detail he'd missed in a mission, not an inconsistency in a document. Something more subtle. Something visual.
His gaze narrowed further.
"Not to be rude," Rin began, voice quiet but direct as always, "but… why are your eyes like that?"
Kai blinked, caught off guard—but only for a second. One corner of his mouth curled upward, slowly, intrigued.
"What do you mean?" he asked, playing dumb.
Rin tilted his head just a fraction, still staring.
"Your irises," he clarified. "One's a deeper blue than the other. At first I assumed they were contacts—thought maybe it was just another weird thing you do for aesthetic. But… they're not. It's real."
They shift. Not drastically, but enough to notice under good light. It's the kind of thing most people would overlook, but I don't overlook anything. Especially when it comes to Kai.
Something's always off with him—like he's walking through life half in shadow. But his eyes… those things never lie. And they haven't matched since the day I met him.
Kai chuckled faintly, not breaking eye contact.
"Ever heard of vanishing twin syndrome?" he asked smoothly.
Rin frowned, his brows knitting. "That's when a fetus absorbs its twin in the womb, right?"
"Bingo." Kai said it like he was ordering champagne. "Sometimes, the one who survives ends up carrying traces of the other. Extra organs, mismatched traits… even fragments of their DNA. Creepy, right?"
Rin stared at him.
"…Are you saying one of your eyes belonged to your twin?" he asked, voice low, skeptical.
Kai smiled wider now, almost unnervingly serene.
"I'm saying I might not be the only one living in this body."
Rin's gaze sharpened into a blade. That wasn't an answer—it was an evasion wrapped in theatrics.
There he goes again. That classic Kai move: offering half a truth cloaked in drama, just vague enough to stir curiosity, just weird enough to shut down deeper questions.
He likes control. He thrives on knowing more than everyone else in the room. And he uses mystery like a weapon. Most people either get scared or fascinated.
I'm not most people.
"I don't care if your eye belonged to your twin or a demon," Rin muttered. "But if you're hiding anything that could compromise this mission—"
Kai raised both hands in mock surrender. "Relax, Commander. I'm not harboring a secret second soul that's gonna blow our cover in Moscow."
"Then answer properly," Rin pressed. "What's wrong with your eyes?"
Kai's smile didn't fade, but something in his posture shifted. Subtly. His hands lowered. His expression cooled—not defensive, but almost… nostalgic.
"…One of them's his," Kai finally said. "Or at least, that's what I was told. My twin didn't make it past the first trimester. My body absorbed most of what was left. Except the eye."
He pointed lazily to the darker blue one. It shimmered in the low train light like a gemstone pulled from deep water.
"Doctors say it's just genetic anomaly. Mismatched melanin, y'know? Science crap. But my mother… she used to say it was him watching from inside. Said that's why I was so smart. So precocious. Said he gave me his other half."
Rin didn't move.
Creepy doesn't even begin to cover it. Who talks about absorbed siblings with that much affection? Who smiles when saying "my twin lives inside me"?
He doesn't just wear masks. He stitches them to his skin.
"Do you believe that?" Rin asked quietly.
Kai tilted his head, grin resurfacing.
"I believe people will believe anything to feel less alone," he said. "Even if it means imagining someone else staring out through their own eyes."
He reached up, tapped the darker iris. "Besides… doesn't hurt to have a spare pair of instincts."
Rin stared at him a moment longer.
Then he turned back toward the window, muttering just loud enough for Kai to hear.
"Or maybe your dead brother's the sane one, and you're just a walking malfunction."
Kai cackled, flopping back onto the bed like a smug cat.
"God, I love you."
"Shut up," Rin snapped.