After finishing her work at Kazama Corporation, Emi made her way to the small café where Sora was pulling a late shift. They didn't talk much at first—just shared a quiet meal during Sora's break, the kind of silence that carried more weight than words.
By the time they stepped outside, the night air was thick with humidity, clinging to their skin like a second layer. Sora was still trying to process everything. The confrontation earlier at the office lingered in her mind, looping like an unanswered question.
Ren Kazama. Daiki Sakamoto.
Those names alone sent a chill down her spine.
It wasn't just that they were dangerous—it was the way they carried that danger. Effortless. Controlled. Men like them didn't raise their voices to command respect. They didn't need to. People either obeyed or got out of the way. And what unsettled Sora most wasn't just their power—it was the fact that Emi was now tangled in it.
And now, Emi—her best friend—was tangled in their world. Sora didn't know whether to shake her or protect her.
"You don't have to be so tense, you know," Emi murmured, her voice a touch softer than usual. She didn't meet Sora's gaze, instead focusing on the pavement, her hands tucked into her jacket sleeves.
Sora scoffed, shooting her a sharp look. "Excuse me for not being chill about you working for a literal mafia boss."
Emi sighed, exasperation creeping into her tone. "He's not like that."
Sora snorted. "Right. And I suppose his scary right-hand man is secretly a kindergarten teacher?"
Emi turned to her then, her eyes flashing with something unreadable. Before Sora could press the matter further, movement from the alley ahead stole her attention. Her stomach twisted.
There were five of them—dressed in baggy clothes, reeking of alcohol and bad intentions. Hooligans. The way they moved, all swagger and slouched arrogance, the lazy smirks stretched across their faces, the way their eyes lingered too long on the two girls—it triggered every instinct in Sora. Every warning bell in her head went off at once.
One of them, a tall guy with a nasty grin, let out a slow whistle. "Well, well. Look what we have here."
His gaze lingered on Emi before shifting to her, raking over her body in a way that made her skin crawl. "Where are you headed, sweetheart?"
Sora rolled her eyes. "Away from you."
Emi tensed beside her, and Sora could feel the nervous energy rolling off her.
Another man stepped forward, cracking his knuckles. "No need to be rude. We just wanna have some fun."
Sora clenched her fists, already calculating her odds. She wasn't the type to back down, but they were outnumbered. She could try to run with Emi but then one of them has reached for Emi's wrist.
Before Sora could react, a blur of movement shot past her.
A sharp, sickening crack filled the air as a solid punch connected with the guy's face, sending him crumbling to the ground like a ragdoll.
Ren Kazama.
The composed expression he'd worn earlier during the day was gone, replaced with something dark, something lethal. His expression was blank, but his eyes—those sharp, unreadable eyes—were like ice.
Beside him, Daiki Sakamoto stretched his arms with a lazy grin, his amusement only heightening the tension in the air. "Well, well. This looks fun."
The hooligans froze. The leader's bravado wavered.
"You…" His voice faltered. "Y-You're—"
Ren took a single step forward. Just one. And yet, it sent the group scrambling back.
"You have three seconds to leave," Ren said quietly.
His voice was calm—too calm. It was the kind of calm that came before something terrible happened.
The leader didn't need to be told twice. He turned on his heel and ran, his lackeys following suit like terrified rats fleeing a sinking ship. Within seconds, they were gone, leaving only the lingering scent of their desperation behind.
Sora's heart pounded against her ribs. One moment, they had been in danger. The next, the entire dynamic had shifted—all because of Ren Kazama. He hadn't even needed to raise his voice. He had simply existed, and that had been enough.
She turned to Daiki, who was watching the retreating men with an amused smirk. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
Daiki grinned, tilting his head. "A little."
Sora scowled. "You're insufferable."
Daiki chuckled but said nothing. The worst part? She couldn't deny it—he and Ren had just saved them.
Ren, meanwhile, had already turned to Emi, his expression softening—just slightly. "Are you hurt?"
Emi shook her head, her voice small. "No. I'm fine."
Ren nodded, seeming satisfied, but there was something in his eyes. Something unspoken. He reached up, brushing a strand of Emi's hair away from her face, his fingers barely grazing her skin. The touch was fleeting, almost hesitant, but it sent a shiver down Sora's spine. It was such a stark contrast from the cold precision he'd shown moments ago.
Sora swallowed hard, looking away.
Maybe—just maybe—Ren Kazama wasn't as bad as she had thought.
And Daiki? Well… he was still annoying.
But maybe not entirely terrible.
*****
The ride home was quiet—at least on the surface.
In the back seat of the black car, Emi sat beside Ren, her fingers curled tightly in her lap. The echo of his earlier touch still lingered on her skin. She hadn't expected it—that gentle, almost tender gesture after the ice-cold fury he'd shown just seconds before. One moment, he was a force of violence. The next, something else entirely.
She risked a glance at him.
He wasn't looking at her. His gaze was fixed on the road outside, his jaw sharp in the low city light. But his presence filled the entire space between them, heavy and steady.
"I didn't expect to be here," she said quietly.
Ren didn't answer right away. Then, voice low, he replied, "I did anyway."
Emi turned her head slightly, watching him. "Why?"
"Because you were in danger," he said simply. "And because I told you—when you work for me, you don't carry everything alone anymore."
The words shouldn't have meant so much.
But they did.
Something warm and confusing bloomed in her chest, threatening to rise too fast.
"Still," she murmured, "you came… fast."
Ren looked at her then, his gaze unwavering. "Because you matter."
Her breath hitched.
"You are my employee now. You work for me and I have the right to protect you."
He didn't touch her again. Not yet. But the way he looked at her—it was intimate in its own way. A silent confession he wasn't quite ready to say aloud.
"You're shaking," he said after a moment, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I'm fine."
He leaned slightly closer, his hand brushing gently against hers. "You don't have to say that with me."
And just like that, the space between them felt smaller. He didn't reach for her fully, didn't pull her close. His presence alone was enough to calm her heartbeat, enough to make her want to lean in, even if just for a moment of stillness.
She looked down at their hands—his fingers just barely touching hers—and something fluttered in her chest again.
"I'm not used to someone showing up," she whispered.
"I always will," Ren said.
*****
In the other car, Daiki was behind the wheel, one hand lazily resting on the steering wheel as he glanced at Sora through the mirror.
"You alright back there, princess?" he teased, smirking.
Sora rolled her eyes from the passenger seat. "Don't call me that."
He chuckled, clearly entertained. "You're not going to thank us for saving your life tonight?"
"I was doing fine," she snapped. "Until those creeps grabbed Emi."
Daiki glanced sideways at her, one brow raised. "Mm. Looked like you were about to throw your bag at them. That would've ended well."
She scowled. "Better than hiding behind someone who thinks violence is a punchline."
Daiki only grinned wider. "You wound me."
There was a beat of silence before Sora spoke again, her voice a little quieter. "Is it always like this?"
He raised a brow. "Like what?"
Sora looked out the window, the night passing in a blur. "Fights. Creeps. Danger around every corner. Is that… normal for you guys?"
Daiki didn't answer immediately. When he did, his voice was lower. "In our world? Yeah. You don't go looking for trouble, but sometimes it finds you anyway."
"And you're okay with that?" she asked.
He shrugged. "You get used to it. You learn how to protect the ones who matter."
Sora didn't respond. She wasn't sure she could. Because beneath the cocky exterior, beneath the smirks and sarcasm, Daiki had just said something that was deeply, quietly honest.
And it unsettled her more than any fight could.
When they reached her street, he pulled up smoothly along the curb. "Try not to get attacked on the way to your door."
"Thanks," she muttered dryly, opening the door. But before she stepped out, she turned back slightly, eyes narrowed. "You and Ren… you don't just help random people. So why Emi?"
Daiki looked at her, the teasing gone from his face for once. "Because she's not random to him."
The door shut before she could ask more.