The throbbing in Ryujin's head felt like someone was hammering nails into his skull. He blinked slowly, everything swimming in and out of focus. Darkness pressed in from all sides, except for one pathetic bulb dangling from the ceiling, casting sickly shadows that danced whenever it swayed.
The smell hit him next—damp concrete, rust, and something else that made his stomach turn. Motor oil mixed with the metallic tang of old blood.
He went to rub his forehead and found his hands wouldn't move. Thick rope bit into his wrists, already rubbing them raw. His ankles were bound too, tied to what felt like a metal chair.
"Son of a bitch," he muttered, testing the bonds. They didn't give even a millimeter.
"Awake already? You've got a thick skull."
Ryujin's head snapped up. The old man from the hair salon stood a few feet away, arms crossed like he owned the place. Next to him lurked that weird kid, still as a statue but watching everything with those unsettling eyes.
"Where the hell am I?" Ryujin's voice came out rougher than he'd expected.
The old man's grin was all teeth and no warmth. "Right under your nose, actually. We're in the salon's basement. Pretty clever hiding spot, don't you think?"
"You've got some nerve—"
"Do I?" The old man stepped closer, and Ryujin caught a whiff of cigarettes and cheap cologne. "You're the one who came sniffing around where you don't belong. Did you really think we wouldn't notice?"
Ryujin strained against the ropes, feeling them cut deeper. "You have no idea what you're dealing with. That precious Kairos of yours—he's not the hero you think he is. He's manipulating people, destroying lives—"
"Is that so?" The old man pulled out his phone, completely unbothered. "Well, let's see what the boss thinks about that."
He dialed without taking his eyes off Ryujin. The basement fell silent except for the distant hum of the city above and the soft ring of the phone connecting.
---
Across the city, Kairos hunched over three monitors in his cramped apartment. Empty energy drink cans and takeout containers littered his desk. He'd been at this for hours—cross-referencing police reports, digging through deleted files, trying to piece together who had attacked Kira and why.
His phone buzzed. He glanced at the caller ID and felt his stomach drop.
"Ojisan? What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong," came the gravelly voice. "But we've got a present for you."
Kairos straightened in his chair. "What kind of present?"
"The kind that asks too many questions. Ring any bells?"
A chill ran down Kairos's spine. "Who is it?"
"Some hotshot who knows way too much about you. Even knew your name. Been poking around the salon, asking about tattoos and whatnot."
Kairos closed his eyes. Damn it. "Put him on."
"Can't do that, kid. He's a little... tied up at the moment." The old man chuckled at his own joke.
The silence stretched until Kairos spoke again, his voice deadly quiet. "What did he say?"
"Called you a criminal. Said you were messing with some girl named Kira. Seemed pretty worked up about it."
Kairos's blood turned to ice. "Kira."
So Ryujin had found the connection. Of course he had—the guy was like a bloodhound when it came to protecting her.
"Where is he now?"
"Safe and sound in our little storage room. Want me to make the problem go away permanently?"
"No." The word came out sharper than Kairos intended. "Don't touch him."
"Getting soft on me, boy?"
"Just keep him alive until I get there."
Kairos hung up before the old man could respond and stared at his reflection in the black computer screen. Everything was falling apart.
---
Back in the basement, Ryujin watched the old man pocket his phone with that same infuriating smirk.
"So," Ryujin said, "was that your puppet master?"
"Something like that."
"Good. Then he heard every word." Ryujin leaned forward as much as the ropes allowed. "Tell him I know about the Crescent Moon gang. The forged documents. That warehouse fire outside Tokyo three years ago."
The kid in the corner shifted slightly—the first movement Ryujin had seen from him.
Interesting.
"You think you're so smart," the old man said, "but you're in way over your head."
"Am I? Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like your boss is the one who's scared. Otherwise, why go through all this trouble?" Ryujin's laugh was harsh. "He's been watching Kira, hasn't he? Following her, manipulating her life from the shadows. But I can't figure out why."
The old man crouched down until they were eye level. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. But guts don't mean much when you're tied to a chair in a basement."
"Then you better kill me now," Ryujin said through gritted teeth, "because I won't stop until I expose that bastard for what he really is."
The old man stood up, shaking his head. "You two really are cut from the same cloth. No wonder this is such a mess."
He headed for the stairs, leaving Ryujin alone with the silent kid and the swaying light bulb.
"Kira," Ryujin whispered to the darkness, "whatever's happening, just stay safe until I can get back to you."
---
In her apartment, Kira stood in front of her mirror holding her microphone like it might bite her. She'd been trying to practice for an hour, but every time she opened her mouth, the words just... wouldn't come.
Her ankle throbbed where she'd twisted it, but that wasn't what was stopping her. It was everything else—the secrets, the fear, the way Ryujin had looked at her before he left like he might not come back.
"I can't do this," she whispered to her reflection. "Maybe I should just cancel the concert. Renn would understand..."
She flopped onto her bed and covered her face with her hands. When had everything gotten so complicated?
Her phone rang. Renn's name flashed on the screen.
"Hello?"
"Kira, how are you feeling? Is your ankle any better?"
His voice was so gentle, so normal, that she almost started crying. "It's okay. I tried practicing but I just... I can't seem to sing right now."
"Don't push yourself. You need time to heal."
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment before Kira spoke again. "Renn, can I ask you something?"
"Always."
"Do you think... should I tell Ryujin about Luna?"
Renn was quiet for a long time. "He's always protected you, hasn't he?"
"Since we were kids, yeah."
"And now he's putting himself in danger again because of you?"
"I think so."
"Then maybe he deserves to know the truth. If you trust him completely, Kira, then yes. Tell him."
After they hung up, Kira walked to her window and pressed her palm against the cool glass. The city stretched out below her, millions of lights in the darkness.
"Come home safe, Ryujin," she murmured. "I have so much to tell you."
---
In the basement, Ryujin had slumped forward as much as the ropes allowed, blood from a cut on his temple slowly dripping onto the concrete floor. His breathing was steady but shallow—unconscious but alive.
Above them, the city went about its business, unaware that everything was about to change.
Time kept ticking forward, indifferent to the storm that was coming.
---