After Hanae left with her bodyguard, Ryujin hailed a taxi and whisked Kira straight to the doctor. She barely protested—just sat there, knuckles white against her bag. The check-up passed in suffocating silence. When finished, the doctor murmured his findings, and Ryujin's face darkened as he nodded.
The taxi hummed through nighttime streets, city lights smearing across rain-speckled windows. Kira's hands fidgeted in her lap, trying to hide their subtle trembling.
"Heard anything about Kairos?" she finally asked, voice barely audible above the engine's purr.
Ryujin studied her profile before looking away. "Nothing concrete. Just a hunch about this shop I want to check out. Probably nothing, but..." He trailed off, leaving the thought suspended between them.
Kira nodded. She didn't push. Didn't ask what kind of shop. She trusted him, though the knot in her chest only twisted tighter.
"You should rest," he said, eyes lingering on the shadows beneath hers. "Take some time off. You're running yourself ragged."
A ghost of a smile touched her lips. "Seems to be what I do best."
When they arrived, Ryujin was already out and holding her door before she could reach for the handle.
"I can make it up on my own," she said, stepping onto the curb.
He hesitated, uncertainty written across his face. "You sure?"
"This building's got security that would make the Pentagon jealous." Her tone was gentle but left no room for argument. "I'll be fine."
Ryujin's jaw tightened, but he relented. "Alright. Good night, then. And Kira—"
She met his gaze briefly.
"—watch yourself, okay?"
"I will." Her smile never quite reached her eyes. "Night, Ryujin."
Inside her apartment, the silence crashed over her like a wave.
She secured the door, leaned back against it, and slid slowly to the floor. The facade she'd maintained all evening crumbled in an instant. Her shoulders began to shake.
"I can't... Mom... I can't keep doing this..."
Her voice splintered as tears came, silent and unwelcome.
Then—
Ping.
Her phone buzzed beside her on the hardwood. She wiped her face roughly with her sleeve, grabbed it, and read:
"Don't cry, Kira... I love your angry and frustrated face—not your sad one."
Her breath caught in her throat.
That message... that tone...
She jerked her head up, scanning the room. Then she noticed—her laptop glowing softly on the coffee table.
But I shut that down...
She crawled toward it, heart hammering. A single link displayed on screen. No sender. No context.
With trembling fingers, she clicked.
The video wasn't threatening. It was gentle—a tiny kitten nestling against its mother, being groomed with tender licks. Safe. Protected. Loved.
Kira stared at the screen, mesmerized and terrified.
"What do you want from me, Kairos?" she whispered into the empty room. "Are you protecting me... or just playing with me?"
Her phone erupted suddenly—loud, jarring. She nearly dropped it.
"KIRA! I just heard—you were ATTACKED?! Are you okay?! Did they catch the guy? Did you talk to the police?!"
She held the phone away from her ear. "Renn, please. Calm down. I'm fine. Nothing serious happened."
"Nothing serious?!" he practically shrieked. "Someone ATTACKED you! That's VERY serious! Hanae told me everything!"
"...You have Hanae's number?" she asked, suspicion creeping into her voice.
A pause. "...I mean—for emergencies, you know? Just in case!"
Kira narrowed her eyes. "...Right."
He cleared his throat loudly. "Anyway! About the concert—can you still do it?"
"I've got six days. We'll see if I heal enough."
"What did the doctor say?" His voice softened.
"That I need at least two weeks of rest." She sighed heavily. "But... that's not really an option right now, is it?"
Renn muttered something that sounded like a curse. "You're always like this... Just promise you'll take it easy."
"I'll try."
The line went quiet. Then, softly: "...Night, superstar."
After hanging up, she whispered to the empty apartment, "I should rest. Hope Hanae's okay."
---
At the Yukimura Household
The mansion's atmosphere cut colder than its marble floors. Hanae stood rigid under her mother's razor-sharp gaze.
"Where were you after school?"
Hanae kept her eyes down. "With... friends."
"Liar."
Lilika's voice cracked like a whip. "Tell me the truth."
"...I was with my sister."
The slap came before the word fully left her lips. Swift. Precise. Merciless.
The maids flinched. The bodyguard's face remained stone.
But Hanae didn't cry.
Lilika raised her hand again—fury building visibly.
"Ma'am," the bodyguard interrupted. "Miss Kira was attacked tonight."
Lilika froze mid-motion. "...What?"
"Unknown assailant. Miss Hanae was present."
Something unreadable flickered across her face, displacing rage.
She turned abruptly and walked away without another word.
A maid stepped forward, gently taking Hanae's arm. "Come, dear. Let's get you to bed."
In her darkened bedroom, Hanae closed the door quietly behind her. She didn't reach for the light switch. Just made her way to bed and lay down, staring at shadows dancing across the ceiling.
"...Nee-chan... what am I supposed to do?"
Only silence answered.
---