The wind whispers through the shadows, carrying the scent of blood and secrets...
A quiet night settles over the city, broken only by the distant pulse of streetlights.
In the streets below, Yua moves with silent purpose—stalking the edges of a familiar path: the route home. A soft breeze ruffles her hair as she turns a corner, eyes sharp even in the darkness...
She knows he's watching. She feels it—the weight of Kyou Ren's gaze like a blade resting against the back of her neck. Every step, every breath, she expects him to materialize from the shadows with that infuriating smirk of his.
But he doesn't show himself.
Not yet, anyway.
Mizaru stirs uneasily in her mind—wary and coiled tight as a snake about to strike if needed—but Yua keeps walking as if nothing is amiss despite knowing full well how dangerous this game she's playing truly is...
Then suddenly:
- Footsteps behind hers—too deliberate to be accidental;
- A cigarette flickers briefly before being crushed underfoot;
- And then his voice slices through silence like velvet wrapped around steel…
"You really shouldn't wander alone at night."
Kyou Ren steps into view under a flickering streetlight glow while exhaling smoke lazily toward the sky above them both (as though even air itself was beneath his notice). His eyes glint with amusement when they land on her startled expression before sliding away dismissively again just fast enough for it to feel intentional rather than a nervous habit though…
Yua tenses, her fingers twitching toward the concealed dagger at her waist. "Knew you were lurking," she mutters, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her rattled.
Kyou chuckles, flicking ash from his cigarette with deliberate slowness. "And yet you walked right into my path anyway." His gaze slides back to hers—cool, assessing—like a predator debating whether its prey is worth pouncing on just yet. "Brave… or stupid?"
Mizaru snarls in warning inside Yua's mind ("Careful.") as she narrows her eyes at him but doesn't back down an inch:
- If he wants games? Fine by her;
- If he thinks she won't bite back? He hasn't been paying attention then...
She crosses arms defiantly before countering flatly: "What do you want?" No pleasantries needed between hunters playing cat-and-mouse after all…
He exhales a slow stream of smoke, watching it curl into the night air before answering with deceptive lightness: "What makes you think I want anything?"
His gaze sharpens—suddenly piercing, like he's stripping her down to the bone. "Maybe I just find it interesting... how someone like you keeps surviving in a world designed to crush weaklings."
Yua bristles at that. "I'm not weak."
Kyou smiles—not mocking, but something colder. More intrigued. "No... You're not." His cigarette glows as he takes another drag before flicking it aside carelessly. "...That's what makes you worth observing.
Yua glares at him, fingers itching for the dagger at her side once more. "Not that it's any of your concern, but I can handle myself."
She shifts her jaw slightly, biting back a snappish response (she knows it's what he wants)
before continuing in a more measured tone: "I don't need protection."
Kyou watches her, eyes narrowed. "I never said you needed protection. It's the opposite, actually."
That pulls her up short. "What do you mean?"
He steps closer, the shadows clinging to him like a second skin. His voice drops low—dangerous in its quietness.
"It's not about protection... It's about potential." His gaze burns into hers, unblinking. "You're one of the few hunters left who hasn't lost themselves to bloodlust or blind obedience." A pause—deliberate—before he adds: "...And that makes you dangerous.
Yua stiffens at that (Dangerous? To whom?)
"Dangerous?" Yua echoes, fingers tightening slightly around the hilt of her dagger. "To who? The hunters? The people you work for?" She holds his gaze, refusing to back down even as the weight of his words settles over her like a shroud.
Kyou Ren only smiles—sharp and knowing—as he leans in slightly. "To the system itself," he murmurs. "...And that's exactly why I find you so fascinating."
Before she can retort, a sudden shift in the air catches both their attention—an unmistakable presence slithering into their awareness like a blade unsheathed in darkness...
Mizaru's growl rips through Yua's mind like an alarm bell:
- "We're not alone."
- "And this one… is familiar."
Crap—just what they need right now. As if dealing with Kyou Ren on her own wasn't tricky enough. Yua's grip tightens on her dagger, eyes flicking warily around the darkened alley as she tries to pinpoint the newcomer's position.
"Who are they?" she breathes, voice barely above a whisper.
Mizaru bristles anxiously in her mind. "I know this signature... It's Shirasame Kosetsū."
A slow, mocking clap echoes through the alley as a familiar figure steps into the dim light.
"How touching." Shirasame Kosetsū's voice is like rusted nails dragged across glass—unmistakable, and dripping with disdain. "A hunter and an executioner... bonding over shared paranoia." His crimson eyes gleam as he sizes them up, lips curling into a sneer. "Disgusting."
Kyou Ren doesn't react outwardly, but Yua catches the way his posture shifts—subtly positioning himself between her and Shirasame. Why? The question burns in her mind even as Mizaru snarls warnings about focusing.
Shirasame's grin widens at their silence. "Cat got your tongue?" He twirls a blood-stained dagger lazily between his fingers before pointing it at Yua with deliberate menace: "...Or are you both finally realizing how outmatched you are?"
Despite his relaxed facade, Kyou Ren's entire demeanor changes the moment he sets eyes on Shirasame—like a switch being flipped.
His face hardens, eyes narrowing to slits as he takes a measured step forward. "Kosetsū." His voice is low, almost a growl. "I should have known I'd find you skulking around here eventually."
Shirasame grins, twirling the dagger again—almost casually. "And here I thought you'd lost the art of hunting."
Yua watches the exchange with growing confusion. Kyou Ren despising hunters like Shirasame is a given, but his change in demeanor—that sudden shift from aloof interest to outright hostility—is something else entirely.
She glances between the two, trying to read the tension crackling in the air. There's more going on here. Much more.
Even Mizaru seems caught off guard, bristling in silent alarm beside her: "This feels wrong."
Mizaru's voice echoes through her mind, urgent and insistent. "Leave. Now."
She senses the danger radiating off the two men—an undercurrent of hatred that could boil over at any moment.
Yua hesitates, torn between her instinct to flee and her curiosity at what's unfolding between Kyou Ren and Shirasame. Why does it feel like she's missing something critical here?
Mizaru's voice snaps in her mind like a whip—sharp, urgent, leaving no room for argument.
"If you stay, you die."
A beat of silence as the weight of those words sink in. Then—
"And I refuse to let that happen."
The possessiveness in its tone catches Yua off guard (since when does Mizaru care this much?), but she doesn't have time to dwell on it. Not when Shirasame is already shifting his stance with slow predatory grace… not when Kyou Ren hasn't even blinked since locking eyes with him… and certainly not when every instinct she has screams at her that staying means being caught in whatever storm is about break between these two men who clearly share history far deeper than mere hunter politics...
She swallows hard before forcing herself to take one careful step back—then another—keeping movements small so neither notices retreat just yet…
Shirasame throws his head back, laughter ripping through the alley like shattered glass—wild and unhinged.
"HAH! Another one!" He wipes a tear from his eye, still grinning with manic glee as he points at Kyou Ren. "Of course it'd be YOU—another stray mutt from that damnable bloodline!" His voice drips with venomous amusement. "Tell me, do they still teach you brats to bare your teeth before thinking?"
Kyou Ren doesn't flinch at the taunt. If anything, his expression darkens further—something dangerous flickering in those cold eyes now as he finally speaks again:
- "...I should have slit your throat back then."
- Voice low enough it feels like gravel dragged over skin rather than actual words spoken aloud...
Yua freezes mid-retreat (bloodline? Clan?), pieces clicking together too late as realization hits her square in chest: This isn't just hatred between hunter and executioner anymore… This is personal.
Kyou Ren's voice drops to a near whisper, lethally calm. "You aren't the one I came for." A pause. "But since you insist on standing in the way…" His fingers twitch—subtle, like he's already envisioning the strike. "...Consider yourself another obstacle I'll cut out like a virus."
Shirasame's manic grin widens, eyes glinting with perverse delight. "Ohhh? Still playing exterminator?" He twirls his dagger faster now—excited, anticipating violence. "Funny... You sound just like your dead brother."
Yua stiffens at that (brother?!)—but Kyou doesn't rise to bait this time; instead he exhales slowly through nose before tilting head ever so slightly toward her without breaking eye contact from Shirasame:
- "Run."
- And there's no room for argument in tone...
Mizaru snarls agreement inside her skull (GO NOW) as Shirasame lunges forward with laughter still clinging to his lips—and the world erupts into motion too fast to follow properly anymore…
🌀 End Of Chapter Twenty Seven