The alley was too quiet.
Ayu felt it before she heard it—an uneasy silence that pressed against her ears like cotton. No dogs barking, no footsteps, no neon buzz. Just the faint drip of water from a rusted pipe and the hollow echo of her own breathing. Her palms were slick, and no matter how tightly she gripped the little knife in her pocket, it kept sliding.
Why does the air feel heavy? she thought.
Beside her, Luv walked like a shadow. His eyes scanned every corner, every rooftop. He looked calm—too calm. That calmness frightened her more than the silence. It meant he had already sensed something.
"Luv…" she whispered, almost ashamed of how shaky her voice sounded.
"Stay close," he said, low and sharp. Not reassuring—commanding.
The word lodged in her chest. She swallowed hard and matched her steps with his.
That's when it happened.
A faint metallic click from above. A red dot danced across the cracked pavement between them. Ayu froze. Her mind screamed: Sniper!
Luv didn't hesitate. His arm slammed into her shoulder, forcing her behind a half-broken dumpster. The gunshot rang out, deafening in the silence. Metal sparked where her head had been a second earlier.
Her heart pounded so hard she thought her ribs would split. Her ears rang. She couldn't breathe.
"Ayu," Luv's voice came, steady as stone. "Focus."
She wanted to scream I can't! but his tone cut through her panic. She forced herself to look at him. His black eyes weren't afraid—they were calculating. Cold.
Then she saw it—the faint twitch of his jaw, the way his hand flexed around the knife he carried. Luv wasn't calm. He was coiled. Ready to explode.
Shadows moved at the alley's mouth. Figures slipped out, one by one, faces hidden, blades glinting under the streetlight. Five, no, six—maybe more. Ayu's throat closed. She wasn't ready. She'd thought she was, but her knees shook.
Luv stepped in front of her, body like a shield. "Count your breath. Four in. Four out. Don't lose it now."
She obeyed. In. Out. Her vision steadied.
The first attacker lunged. A blur of motion. Luv sidestepped, grabbed the man's wrist, and in one brutal twist, the knife clattered to the ground. A second later, blood sprayed as Luv drove his blade across the man's throat.
Ayu flinched so hard her teeth clacked together. She had seen violence before. But never like this—so clean, so fast, so merciless.
Her stomach turned. But then she saw the second man rushing at her, not Luv. At her.
Time slowed. She remembered her training, the hours she'd promised herself she'd endure. If she froze now, she'd die.
Her hand snapped to her pocket, gripped the small knife, and swung wildly. The blade caught the attacker's forearm. He screamed, staggering back.
Her chest burned, her arms shook—but she had landed a hit.
"Ayu!" Luv's voice again. Not angry this time—sharp, approving.
Her fear twisted into something else. Not bravery, not yet. But a spark.
The alley filled with noise—gunshots ricocheting, blades clashing, the wet sound of steel meeting flesh. Luv moved like a phantom, each strike efficient and terrifying. Ayu fought clumsily but with desperation, her knife darting at whatever came too close. Every time she thought she'd fall, she felt his presence beside her, guiding without words.
And for the first time, in the middle of blood and smoke, Ayu felt it: they weren't fighting alone.