The low hum of the train filled the quiet cabin, the gentle rattling of the wheels against the track like a distant heartbeat. Snow streaked across the windows in ghostly blurs, but inside the room, tension was thick enough to choke on.
Kai stretched out on the bed, bare feet dangling lazily off the edge, his eyes trained on Rin with the same mischief that had already gotten them into more than one international incident.
"So," Kai drawled, his smirk curling like smoke. "About your mom… would you link her up for me?"
Rin, who had been quietly reviewing mission notes on his tablet, froze mid-scroll. His gaze didn't rise immediately. He simply blinked. Once. Slowly. Then finally, without even looking at Kai, he said:
"You are so shameless, Kai."
Kai grinned wider. "What? Don't get all flustered. I was joking. Mostly. She seems like a nice woman."
Rin set the tablet aside and turned his head, jaw tense. "Don't talk about my mother like that. Ever."
I've tolerated a lot of your garbage. The chaos, the blood, the smirks. But the moment you bring up my family, you cross a line.
I don't care if you're kidding or not. You don't get to laugh at things you haven't lived through.
Kai raised his hands in exaggerated surrender. "Whoa. Touchy subject, huh? My bad. But come on, it's not like I insulted her."
Rin let out a slow breath, shoulders easing just a little. "…Of course she's a good person. She's had to be. After my big sister and my father died, it's just been her, Yuta, and me."
His voice softened—just a fraction. "She works herself to death making sure my little brother has everything he needs. She thinks I'm somewhere safe. She thinks I'm working a low-level clerical job in some quiet government office—processing land deeds and listening to complaints about potholes."
Then Rin suddenly stopped. Cut himself off mid-thought.
Kai noticed instantly. "Why'd you stop?" he asked, tilting his head, pretending to care—but his eyes glittered with that telltale glint of curiosity. The manipulator's curiosity. The kind of interest that isn't about empathy—it's about leverage.
Rin's mouth flattened. "Because you don't need to know all this."
Kai pouted, mock-offended. "But we have so much time to chat, don't we?"
Rin leaned back in his seat, arms crossed, face impassive as ever. "Well, I'm not bored enough to spill my life story to someone who sees people as disposable toys."
Kai rolled his eyes. "Oof. You make me sound like such a monster."
"You are a monster," Rin said flatly, standing and walking over to the small travel shelf by his bed. He pulled out a slim book—worn, dog-eared, the title in faded gold characters.
"If you want something to pass the time," Rin said, tossing the book lightly onto Kai's bed, "read this. Might actually activate a part of your brain that isn't soaked in pheromones."
Kai glanced at the book like it was a rotten fruit. "No thanks. I'm not into one-way conversations."
He stood, stretching with a yawn that was a little too theatrical. Then with that same lazy smirk, he strolled to the door.
"I'll just find another plaything if I get bored. Plenty of them in this train."
He left without another word.
The door slid shut behind him with a soft click.
Rin stood still, staring at the now-empty room.
Typical. The moment it gets real—he deflects. Runs. Jokes. Switches the subject like he's flipping a coin. But I saw the twitch in his jaw when I mentioned Yuta. The hesitation.
He might not have a mother worth talking about. Or maybe he does, and it's a sore wound. Either way—he's not as empty as he pretends. He just hides it better.
Rin sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
And I let him bait me again. Every damn time. One day I'm going to stop falling for it. One day.
He picked up the book again and sat down. He didn't open it—just stared at the cover, eyes unreadable.
The train rattled on, carrying them deeper into the snow-covered unknown.
Two days had already slipped past like fog on glass—blurred, indistinct, but gone all the same.
The train rumbled into motion again after a brief stop. Outside the window, the Siberian landscape rolled by in an endless scroll of white wilderness and grey skies. Thick snow blanketed the trees like silence incarnate, swallowing sound, light, even time itself.
Then came the loudspeaker—crackling alive with an announcement, the voice dry and nasal.
"Уважаемые пассажиры, наш поезд приближается к станции Иркутск. Пожалуйста, приготовьте ваши паспорта и документы для иммиграционной проверки."
(Dear passengers, our train is approaching Irkutsk Station. Please prepare your passports and documents for immigration screening.)
Neither Rin nor Kai responded.
The atmosphere between them had settled into something heavy—like a room with the air vacuumed out. They sat across from each other in silence, neither speaking, but both watching.
Rin's legs were crossed, a worn book resting open in one hand, though his eyes hadn't moved from the same line in several minutes. Kai, on the other hand, lay sprawled on the cabin bench like a lion in repose—elbows propped up, chin resting on his fists, watching Rin with an expression that was… troublingly predatory.
Rin noticed it out of the corner of his eye. The stare. Unblinking. Intrusive.
He closed his book slowly. Looked up.
"…Why are you looking at me like that, Kai? Like you want to eat me alive."
Kai's smile was slow to form. Not boyish or amused—no, it was the kind of grin that belonged to someone who played games with sharp objects and didn't mind if they bled a little.
"I'm just wondering," Kai said, voice velvet-smooth, "what you would look like in the place of an omega."
Rin blinked.
Kai leaned forward just slightly, like sharing a secret. His voice dropped to something huskier. "You resemble something conjured straight from a carnal fantasy."
Rin blinked again, slower this time. "HUH??!!"
He sat upright, almost recoiling, his composure cracked just enough to show a sliver of panic underneath the polished surface.
What the hell did he just say to me?
Did I mishear that? No, I absolutely did not. That was real. Those were actual words that left his mouth.
Has this lunatic been fantasizing about me while I've been trying to survive this train ride and monitor a national threat?!
God help me.
"I'm not sure what kind of warped fantasies you've got buried in that deranged head of yours," Rin said, voice taut, "but I strongly suggest you keep them to yourself."
Kai didn't flinch. If anything, his smirk widened.
"Oh? Are you saying it's wrong to admire beauty when it's right in front of you?" he asked, eyes dragging deliberately across Rin's form. "You've got a body sculpted for sin and the temperament of a saint. You're a contradiction. People like contradictions."
Rin clenched his jaw, narrowing his eyes.
"You're mistaking restraint for sainthood," Rin said coolly. "But even I have limits."
Kai leaned back again, stretching with a soft sigh, his expression languid—satisfied, like a cat who'd successfully knocked a priceless vase off a shelf just to watch it shatter.
"You're fun when you're defensive," Kai said. "Makes me want to poke a little more, just to see where your cracks are."
God, shut up. Rin thought bitterly, dragging a hand down his face.
This mission can't end fast enough. As soon as we deal with Ao Takeda, I'm going to put a hundred kilometers between us. Minimum.
"Remind me," Rin said flatly, "why am I traveling cross-country with an emotionally unhinged incubus again?"
Kai laughed, head tilting to the side. "Because I'm charming, indispensable, and more capable than you'd like to admit."
"I've met landmines that are less volatile than you."
"And yet," Kai said, voice soft and smug, "you still haven't walked away."
Rin turned back to the window, arms crossed. "Trust me. If there was anywhere else I could be, I would."
There was a sharp knock on the cabin door.
"Excuse me... immigration screening. Please present your passports and departure cards," came a crisp male voice in Russian.
Rin immediately straightened. Without a word, he reached into his coat pocket and handed over his documents, the thick silence of the room punctuated only by the soft flap of paper as Kai did the same beside him.
Okay... calm down.
Choi Beom-Gyu is already listed as missing. The new identity should check out. Passport's clean. Paperwork matches. No flags. There's no way they'd link me to the real Choi unless—wait...
Did they spot the weapon hidden in my lining? No, that's impossible... unless someone tipped them off.
Rin's fingers tightened imperceptibly as the officer eyed the documents with a touch too much scrutiny.
But then—"Alright. Thank you."
The passport was returned.
Rin let out the softest exhale, a subtle breath of relief—
"Stand against the wall, sirs," the second officer barked.
Rin froze for half a second.
…What?
Kai, nonchalant as ever, got to his feet with a bored sigh and spread his arms lazily against the cabin wall. The officer patted him down quickly—routine, practiced, dismissive. Less than ten seconds.
Then he turned to Rin.
Rin complied wordlessly, stepping up and facing the wall. He felt the first sweep of the officer's hands over his back, down the arms. Then shoulders. Ribcage. Waist.
But the hands didn't leave. They lingered. Searched. Pressed. Slid.
Too deliberately.
Too slow.
What the hell is this? Why's he being so thorough with me? Is it the passport? The name? No... he barely looked at it. Then what?
Is it because I'm not Russian?
Because I look foreign?
The officer's hand moved lower. Then up again—too high. He cupped Rin's chest, fingers curling in with shameless pressure—like testing a fruit at the market.
Squeeze.
That was it.
Rin's body reacted before his mind could even catch up.
With terrifying speed, Rin spun, grabbed the man by the throat, and slammed him against the wall with a force that shook the metal frame of the train.
"GET YOUR MOTHERFUCKING HANDS OFF ME, YOU FUCKING PERVERT!" Rin growled, voice raw and venomous, chest heaving.
The patrol agent rushed out trembling with fear. Looked like he almost pissed in his pants.
Rin stood there, trembling—not out of fear. Rage. Disgust. Violation. His breath was shallow, his hands shaking faintly at his sides.
Kai was still seated across the cabin, one leg crossed over the other, his head propped on his palm like he was watching a drama unfold.
"Perverts everywhere these days," Rin muttered darkly, collapsing back into his seat, still rattled. He pulled his coat tighter around him, like it could shield him from the residue of that man's touch. "I hate it when someone tries to take advantage of me. Fucking hell…"
Kai chuckled, far too relaxed. "Looks like he liked you. You should've just played along—have a one-night stand, take advantage back. He seemed like the kind of guy who could work those hips."
Rin slowly turned his head toward Kai. His expression was somewhere between exhausted and utterly done.
He always does this. When I'm vulnerable, disturbed—he makes it worse. Laughs like it's a joke. I could've gutted that bastard, and Kai would've still been here smirking like a fucking court jester.
What the hell is wrong with his wiring?
"Funny," Rin said coolly, "coming from someone with a face like yours. You've got no room to talk about anyone being wanted."
Kai gave a self-satisfied grin.
"And yet, I'm not the one being groped in train compartments."
Rin gritted his teeth and sat back, folding his arms over his chest.
"For the record," he said icily, "I don't do men. Beta, Omega, Alpha, even Enigma—doesn't matter. Not interested."
Kai's eyes glinted, that smugness sharp as ever. "Oh? That's funny."
"Why?"
"Because I'm your type, and you're too afraid to admit it."
Rin looked like he'd just been physically hit with the world's dumbest accusation. "I just said I don't do men."
"Yes," Kai said with a grin, "but your eyes said, 'Please ruin my life.'"
Rin groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "For God's sake. Please don't say such scary things. This mission's stressful enough."
Kai shrugged lazily, stretching his arms behind his head. "Scary things are more fun when whispered by pretty people."
Lord, give me patience, Rin thought bitterly.
Or a taser. I'm fine with either at this point.
As the train began to slow again, approaching Irkutsk Station in the snow-laced evening, Rin closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
This was going to be a long journey.
And unfortunately, Kai wasn't going anywhere.
Rin lay stretched across his narrow train bed, back propped against the cool metal wall, a thick novel open in his lap. His eyes skimmed the lines, but he wasn't really reading. The words blurred into meaningless strokes of ink as his attention lingered elsewhere—on the silence in the room. Too silent.
Then—Kai's phone buzzed sharply.
Rin's gaze flicked upward over the rim of his book. Kai, who had been lounging across from him doing absolutely nothing for the past hour, suddenly stiffened. His expression flickered—subtle, but noticeable to someone as observant as Rin. The usual lazy smugness vanished, replaced by something tightly drawn, unreadable. He didn't even glance at Rin before slipping off the bed, grabbing the phone, and stepping out into the corridor.
Rin watched him go.
「あのクソ野郎,電話がかかってくると必ず部屋から出て行く.任務と関係ないなら,厳密に言えば彼のプライベートな生活だ.でも,そんなに秘密にしなきゃいけないの?」
That bastard—every single time he gets a call, he leaves the room. If it's unrelated to the mission, then fine—it's technically his personal life. But seriously, what's so damn secretive that he has to sneak off every time?
Rin sighed, closing his book. He sat still for a moment, pretending to be disinterested.
"I don't like eavesdropping. It's not my style. But I am suspicious. And suspicion doesn't play fair."
He slid off the bed, padded quietly to the door, and leaned against the frame, careful not to cast a shadow in the hallway. His dark eyes scanned the corridor.
There, several doors down, was Kai—phone pressed to his ear, his back against the train wall, one hand stuffed into his pocket. Rin squinted. The Kai standing there looked different. Still beautiful, still composed—but there was something sharper around the edges. The usual lazy slouch was gone. His spine was straighter. Jaw tense.
"Damn it... He's too far. I can't hear a damn thing. His voice isn't even carrying. And the look on his face... That's not his usual act. That's someone who's listening carefully. Someone calculating. Cold."
Rin narrowed his eyes.
"Who the hell is he talking to? He said he's only in this mission for the 'thrill'—but no one that casual takes phone calls that seriously."
Just as Rin was about to pull back, Kai's eyes flicked up—and met his.
Time slowed. For a split second, Kai froze. His eyes widened slightly, barely noticeable. But Rin caught it.
Then—Kai smirked. That same damned smirk. The kind that meant he'd already known you were there, and now you were just performing the role he'd written for you.
Rin retreated quickly, back into the room like nothing happened, settling back on the bed with his book, although he couldn't even pretend to focus now. His body was tense, mind spinning.
A few seconds later, the door slid open with a metallic hiss. Kai stepped in—phone nowhere in sight—and closed the door gently behind him. He didn't speak. He didn't ask anything.
Instead, he hummed a low tune, melodic, almost hypnotic.
Then he began to sing under his breath:
"Mind—mind games… until you lose control…"
His voice was soft and velvety, curling through the air like smoke. He flopped down onto his bed, one leg crossed over the other, arms lazily folded behind his head. His eyes stayed locked on Rin—like a cat watching a bird twitching in a cage.
Smirking.
Always smirking.
"He's not asking me anything. Not 'why were you by the door', not 'did you hear me'. Nothing. Just sits there… smiling like he knows something I don't."
Rin shut his book slowly. Set it down beside him with care.
"I don't like this feeling. This silence. It's not peaceful—it's intentional. He's watching me, but not like someone curious. Like someone who's waiting."
Kai's eyes didn't blink.
"It's like we're in the middle of a game and he's pretending he isn't even playing. Like he's giving me a head start just to watch me squirm when he decides to catch up. I've trained for psychological warfare, but this...this is a whole different category."
Rin shifted slightly, his posture still composed, but the muscle along his jaw ticked once.
"I ought to wrap this mission up as fast as possible. Find Ao Takeda. Complete the objective. And once it's over—cut ties. Permanently."
Kai finally broke the silence.
"So, what was the book about?" he asked, voice syrupy.
Rin didn't answer. He just stared, cold and unreadable, like a knife behind glass.
Kai chuckled.
"Thought so."