"Hey, kid. How'd you like a free fortune cookie?"
The older man's voice was sweet, almost too sweet, as he held out a small package. His face carried the harmless wrinkles of a kindly grandfather, his delivery uniform pressed neatly despite his age.
The little girl—no older than seven or eight—hesitated, then reached out, taking the cookie.
"You lost, princess?" he asked gently, tilting his head.
Her gaze dropped to the ground. "Yes, sir. I lost my parents a few minutes ago…"
"Don't worry," he said warmly, crouching to meet her eyes. "I'll help you. No problem at all."
"But Mommy said I shouldn't trust strangers," she murmured.
The man chuckled softly. "I'm no stranger. You see… I'm an angel. I help lost children find their homes."
Her eyes widened, shimmering with innocent wonder. "An angel?"
"That's right. Want me to show you my wings?"
She nodded eagerly.
With a subtle motion, black wings unfurled behind him, shadows stretching long across the lantern-lit street.
Her brows furrowed. "Why are they black? Don't angels have white wings?"
His smile didn't falter. "Well, little one, I'm special. My wings are different because I'm a special angel."
"You should show everyone! It'd be so cool!" she said brightly.
"Unfortunately…" His face turned grave, voice dropping to a whisper. "Only those I choose can see them. And I can't choose very many."
Her smile faltered. She looked down. He reached out and stroked the back of his neck with feigned awkwardness, as though it pained him to keep such a secret.
"So… what's your name, little miss?"
"Rui," she answered softly.
"What a beautiful name," he said. "Mine's Yúzé." He extended his hand, palm open, inviting. "Do you trust me?"
Something in her gut told her not to. Children always knew. But he had been so nice. He had wings. And he promised to help.
She placed her tiny hand in his. "Yep."
"Good girl," he murmured, a sly glimmer flashing in his eyes as he led her away.
They entered a narrow alleyway, the streetlights swallowed by shadow. "Do you know your home address?" he asked.
She nodded and recited it.
"Perfect," he said softly. His lips curled into a smile she couldn't see. Good girl… almost there.
They reached his van, its black frame looming at the edge of the alley. He slid the door open with practiced ease. The inside was dark, empty—too empty.
"Just hop in, and you'll be home before you know it," he coaxed.
Rui lingered, eyes narrowing. "…Pinky promise?"
He chuckled, raising his little finger. "Pinky promise."
She smiled and hooked hers with his. The deal is sealed, he thought triumphantly.
He motioned for her to climb in. Just a little more. Almost—
"Stop right there!"
The voice cut through the alley like a blade. Yúzé froze, his head snapping around. Rui gasped, stepping back.
At the mouth of the alley stood Nabi, her raven black hair glinting under the neon glow, her icy-blue eyes locked on him with righteous fury.
Beside her slouched Hayato, dressed in a plain black tracksuit, hood half-drawn, looking more like a college dropout than a heavenly being.
"Yeah, you heard her!" Hayato added, pointing a finger that trembled only slightly.
"Let the child go," Nabi commanded, her voice sharp and unwavering. Her black hair fell like ink around her shoulders, her eyes glowing faintly blue in the dark alley.
Rui blinked, her small hands still clutching the fortune cookie wrapper. "W-wait… what's happening?" Her voice wavered, caught between fear and the lingering trust she had given the old man.
Yúzé's sweet, grandfatherly smile twitched. For the first time, the warmth in his face cracked like broken porcelain. His eyes narrowed, his lips tightening into something sharper—uglier.
"Don't ask questions, little one," he muttered, his tone losing its honey.
Rui stepped back, her shoes scraping the alley floor. She hugged the wrapper to her chest like it was a shield. "I-I thought you were going to help me find my parents…"
"Of course," he said smoothly, though the cheer was gone. "That's exactly what I'm doing." His hand snapped forward, seizing her wrist.
Her eyes widened, a small gasp slipping out. "You're… hurting me—"
"Stop it right now!" Nabi shouted, getting into a battle stance. But it was too late.
The fake gentleness vanished entirely as Yúzé scowled, his grip tightening. "Enough."
In one sudden, merciless motion, he hurled her toward the open van door.
"Ah—!" Rui's terrified scream tore through the alley, echoing off the brick walls. But the sound didn't last.
The moment her body crossed the threshold, the darkness inside the van shifted unnaturally, rippling like black water. Her small form sank into it, swallowed whole.
And then—silence.
The van looked empty again. Just a hollow dark shell. The little girl was gone.
Hayato's eyes widened. "Th-that wasn't a van door… that was a portal." His voice cracked, panic threading through every word.
Nabi's fists clenched. "Bring the child back."
Yúzé chuckled, straightening his delivery uniform with deliberate calm. "Ah… unfortunate. Angels." His black wings unfolded again, blotting out the lantern glow. "I've never been a man of violence. But… a time calls for it."
The air dropped in temperature as Nabi stepped forward. Her disguise melted away, wings bursting from her back in a flare of icy-blue light. Frost swirled at her feet, spiraling upward like a storm answering her call.
Hayato winced, muttering, "Guess that means me too…" He snapped his fingers, robes replacing the tracksuit as his own white wings flared open. He held out his hand, and with the spark of creation itself, a gleaming shotgun materialized in his grip.
"Not exactly holy, but it gets the job done," he mumbled, cocking it with a nervous grin.
Nabi's blizzard gathered at her fingertips, snow and wind howling at her command.
Across from them, Yúzé reached into his pocket with eerie casualness… and pulled out a small toy car.
Hayato blinked. "…Seriously?"
But the smile on Yúzé's face promised that this was no toy.