The early evening air had begun to cool, the warmth of the day dissolving into something gentler as campus lights flickered on one by one.

  Akio walked briskly toward the meeting point, posture upright and composed. He rolled his sleeves neatly to his elbows, smoothing the fabric with careful precision. He had already returned home, secured his gear, changed clothes, and made it back out within a window of time that had required uncomfortable efficiency. The cut along the base of his right thumb still stung faintly from the alcohol he had used earlier, a thin, fresh line across his skin. The wound was closed now, easy to overlook unless someone was looking for it.

  He lifted his gaze and immediately spotted Gabriel leaning casually against a nearby wall. A playcard spun idly between his fingers, catching the light with each rotation. His expression was mild, almost bored, but there was something expectant beneath it.

  Gabriel tilted his head. “Oh my,” he said lightly, “and here I was worried you wouldn’t make it.”

  Akio allowed a mildly amused, knowing smile to touch his lips. “Tagging along?”

  Gabriel pushed himself off the wall with easy grace and fell seamlessly into step beside him. “Might as well.”

  Akio’s faint smile lingered for a moment before he redirected his attention to the path ahead. The doorway to the meeting place was just a bit further, leading into a small side room tucked beside a stairwell. He finished adjusting his sleeve, ensuring the line of the cuff sat perfectly even.

  Right on time.

  He stepped through the doorway and slowed his pace slightly, the shift subtle but intentional. Gabriel followed close behind. The room itself was plain—bare walls, smooth flooring, the kind of place people passed through briefly. Another open doorway sat opposite them, lit by a warm yellow spotlight that spilled softly into the space.

  Akio’s eyes moved automatically to the left, and he found Aira instantly.

  She stood animated, mid conversation, her energy filling the otherwise quiet room. Beside her was a young man he had only seen in photographs—light brown hair tied back into a ponytail, crimson eyes that stood out sharply under the warm lighting.

  Aira noticed him and her entire expression brightened without restraint. She waved enthusiastically and called out.

  “Akio!! You came!”

  Akio felt his expression soften almost imperceptibly at the sight of her. He approached at a measured pace, stopping a short distance across from her before folding his hands neatly behind his back. He sensed Gabriel come to a stop just slightly behind and to his right, the formation instinctive.

  “Hey, Aira. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting,” he said, voice even and warm.

  She grinned, clearly delighted, stepping closer to him with unfiltered enthusiasm. “Not at all! We just got here! This is my friend Hyakki!”

  Akio inclined his head with polite composure, his eyes settling briefly on Hyakki in quiet acknowledgment. The other man stood with his hands loosely tucked into his jacket pockets, posture relaxed without being careless. He looked mildly polite, and was slightly shorter than him.

  Akio offered a small, courteous nod. “Nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard many things.”

  Hyakki returned the nod just as evenly. “Same. Sorry about missing the first time. That was my bad.”

  A faint smile touched Akio’s lips. “No worries. I missed the next one. Let’s call it even.”

  Aira placed her hands on her hips, already chiming in with animated disbelief. “I seriously can’t believe you both got sick when we were supposed to meet. That was, like, crazy unlucky timing.”

  Her gaze shifted toward Gabriel before turning back to Hyakki. “You already met Gabriel, right?”

  Hyakki’s expression shifted subtly, a hint of amusement flickering through his eyes. “Yeah. Just a few times.”

  Akio glanced over his shoulder. Gabriel had drifted back against the wall behind them, a playcard twirling lazily between his fingers. He responded to Hyakki’s look with a playful two finger salute, the gesture casual and theatrical all at once.

  Akio turned back just in time to see Aira frowning slightly as she processed something aloud.

  “Huh,” she said slowly, gesturing between Akio and Gabriel. “I’m really surprised you haven’t run into my brother until now then, because I swear these two are always together. Like, they’re literally inseparable.”

  Akio’s expression remained pleasantly neutral, though there was a faint spark of amusement in his eyes.

  “Technically,” he began helpfully, “‘inseparable’ is a term relative to context. We are inseparable in the sense that we are observed together more frequently than the statistical average pairing. However, if evaluated on a basis of physical composition, the statement would not hold.”

  Aira stared at him. The look she gave him conveyed, with devastating clarity, that this was not the point.

  Akio smiled back at her innocently.

  She turned away with visible exasperation and immediately began recounting to Hyakki several of the more questionable academic antics she had witnessed from him and Gabriel over the years. Akio watched with mild amusement as she spoke, noting the way she leaned in slightly, how naturally conversation flowed between the two. He lingered on Hyakki for a moment, quietly assessing.

  The longer Akio observed, the more a subtle, nagging familiarity surfaced. There was something in the micro adjustments—the way Hyakki shifted his weight without ever fully committing it, the way his shoulders remained deceptively loose while his center of gravity stayed balanced—that struck him as peculiar. Relaxed, but ready. Casual, but never vulnerable.

  Movement from Aira drew his attention back to her. She leaned back with exaggerated resignation and huffed, “But yeah, this is what I have to deal with.”

  Hyakki’s lips curved faintly, amusement flickering briefly across his features before he turned his attention to Akio. “How long have you and Gabriel been friends?”

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  Akio answered without hesitation, polite and composed. “Eleven years. Our older brothers were good friends as well, so we spent a lot of time together even outside of school.”

  Hyakki acknowledged this with what appeared to be genuine interest. “Oh, that’s cool. I can’t imagine knowing someone for that long. Is it the same with the other guy?”

  Aira spoke before he could respond. “You mean Damien? That’s Yoru’s older brother. I think he became friends with them around the same time Yoru and I became besties.”

  Hyakki tilted his head slightly, considering this new information. “I see. That’s kind of neat that your older brother and his best friend are close with your best friend’s older brother.”

  Aira blinked at him. “That is… a sentence.”

  Akio’s eyes gleamed faintly with amusement. It was certainly a sentence. He had never quite assembled their social structure so plainly before, and hearing it articulated in that linear, almost diagrammatic way was unexpectedly entertaining.

  He shifted his attention back to Hyakki, tone even and courteous. “What about you? Do you have any close friends?”

  Hyakki adjusted his hands inside his jacket pockets, his gaze drifting momentarily as he considered the question. “Not really. I don’t know many people long enough to be close friends. I can be social when I want to be, but in general I kind of prefer to be alone.”

  Aira immediately perked up at that, pointing at him with emphatic resolve. “We’re changing that! After the movie we’re all going to Asha’s place for drinks. You’re coming too!”

  Hyakki blinked slowly, a flicker of mild horror passing through his otherwise controlled expression before settling into something closer to resigned acceptance. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Akio watched the exchange with quiet amusement. He recognized that look far too well. Not everyone was willing to accommodate Aira’s intensity. The fact that Hyakki yielded without complaint, even with visible reluctance, registered subtly in Akio’s assessment.

  The three of them continued talking for a while longer, the conversation unfolding with surprising ease. Akio learned that he and Hyakki shared a few overlapping interests—music, cooking, even a passing appreciation for obscure historical trivia.

  Hyakki offered a few casual philosophical observations along the way, just thoughtful enough to suggest depth without spectacle. Akio found himself mildly intrigued despite himself. The remarks were measured, almost understated, yet sharpened by an awareness that felt deliberate.

  All things considered, he genuinely seems nice, Akio thought. Perhaps my initial judgment had been too harsh after all.

  Eventually, Aira clapped her hands together and declared brightly, “I’m so glad you two finally met! See? It wasn’t that bad, was it? Anyways, we should go now, the others are waiting to go to the theater.”

  She turned to Akio, beaming up at him with open gratitude. “Thank you so much for coming. I know I ask for things a lot and you’re very busy, but I’m really, really thankful you came. This means a lot to me.”

  Akio looked at her properly then, taking in the genuine warmth in her expression. He returned a soft, sincere smile. “Of course. It’s the least I can do.”

  He then shifted his attention politely to Hyakki. “It was a pleasure meeting you. I hope you enjoy the movie.”

  Hyakki smiled back, appreciative, and extended his right hand in an easy, natural gesture. “Yeah, it was great meeting you too. Thanks for taking the time.”

  Akio’s demeanor remained mild as his gaze instinctively dropped to the offered hand.

  He went still.

  On Hyakki’s index and middle fingers, just along the upper curve near the knuckles, was a thin, recently closed cut. Barely visible unless one knew to look. A clean and precise downward arc, the kind of mark left by a blade.

  His expression did not change.

  He lifted his eyes slowly to meet the other’s. Hyakki registered it. He tilted his head subtly, mild confusion touching his features. A few loose strands of hair slipped forward, casting a faint shadow over one eye—just enough to make the vivid red of the other pupil burn sharper beneath the warm ambient light.

  Akio did not outwardly react, but internally, the pieces locked into place with cold, mechanical precision. The micro adjustments in stance, Gabriel’s quiet suspicions, the convenient illness. The disappearances, the shared physical traits he had dismissed as coincidence. And now this—the cut that aligned perfectly with the trajectory of his own blade from the earlier exchange.

  Every impression recalibrated in an instant. The cautious openness he had allowed himself dissolved without resistance. In its place settled something colder, analytical and detached.

  It did not matter that Hyakki had listened attentively to Aira’s rambling stories. That he had humored her enthusiasm. That he had yielded without complaint whenever she tugged him into conversation. Behavioral warmth did not negate structural threat.

  This man was dangerous. A killer who wielded the M.A.W. without hesitation. An anomaly capable of infecting and erasing thousands if left unchecked.

  And most unforgivably—he had tried to kill Aira.

  Twice.

  Now he stood at her side, hand extended in polite greeting.

  Akio felt the faint sting along the base of his right thumb where his own cut had not yet fully healed. The skin tightened subtly as he flexed his fingers. He became acutely aware of the room—the soft hum of expectation, Aira’s bright gaze flicking between them, the unspoken pressure of social normalcy demanding compliance. Refusing the gesture would create friction.

  So Akio smiled.

  It was polite, calm. Almost warm.

  He extended his hand and clasped Hyakki’s firmly, tightening his grip just a bit more than necessary.

  “The pleasure’s mine.”

  He caught the subtle dip of Hyakki’s gaze toward his palm just before their hands met. A minute hesitation. A tightening at the corner of the eyes so slight it would have escaped anyone else’s notice, focus sharpening in silent recognition.

  Hyakki held the handshake, his grip controlled but probing, as if measuring resistance. When he lifted his gaze again, their eyes locked fully. His demeanor shifted. The ease drained first, then the warmth. What remained was colder, edged and dangerous. The crimson of his eyes seemed darker under the light, calculating in a way that acknowledged the unspoken exchange.

  The air between them thinned.

  Akio did not blink. His smile did not falter, but it cooled—held in place without reaching his eyes. His grip tightened a degree further, subtle enough to pass unnoticed, firm enough to press bone faintly against bone—a quiet confirmation. I know.

  Hyakki’s gaze flicked past him toward Gabriel. The change was minimal, but there—a flicker of widened awareness, the realization that this was no longer contained to the two of them. Even without turning, Akio felt the shift in Gabriel’s posture, the near imperceptible stillness that replaced casual ease.

  The earlier lightness evaporated completely. The space between them compressed as though the night itself had drawn closer. Neither of them moved. Beneath the handshake ran a silent calculus—distance, timing, the cost of striking first. Each knew exactly how the other would do it. Each knew neither could.

  Then Aira’s voice sliced through the moment, bright and utterly unaware.

  “Byee!! See you later! Let’s meet again sometime!”

  Akio released Hyakki’s hand and watched as Aira tugged him toward the open doorway. She was already talking animatedly, her voice bright and unburdened. Hyakki allowed himself to be steered along, but he did not immediately break eye contact. He glanced back over his shoulder once before disappearing from view.

  Akio’s gaze remained fixed on the empty doorway, the air still hummed faintly with tension. From beside him, he sensed Gabriel push himself off the wall and step forward until they stood shoulder to shoulder, both looking toward the hall Aira had just vanished into.

  “What now?” Gabriel asked, his voice low and measured.

  Akio did not answer immediately, his thoughts were already racing ahead. This was no longer a clean pursuit. Their target had embedded himself within Aira’s social orbit. Any action taken now would be visible, immediate, and socially disruptive. It risked hurting her in too many ways.

  And this was not just any adversary.

  This was the Hollow.

  One of the most volatile and dangerous vigilantes in the city. A man with a pattern of attacks that had already intersected with Aira once before. She had barely survived the last encounter. Barely recovered. And now she was unknowingly walking into a theater with the person who had tried to kill her.

  The thought struck like a blade under his ribs. Every part of him wanted to step between them, to reposition the world so that she was out of reach and the threat was within his. Yet he could not simply intervene—not without fracturing her trust, not without exposing too much. For once, there was no elegant solution assembling itself in his mind. No clean progression from identification to removal. Only restraint, and the controlled burn of holding back when every instinct demanded otherwise.

  His thoughts flickered back to the observatory and the distant clock tower visible through glass. The memory felt different now. He saw it clearly: the Hollow kneeling at his feet, disarmed, blade poised at eye level.

  He had spared him.

  He felt the echo of that decision now, heavy and uncharacteristically bitter.

  “I shouldn’t have let him go,” Akio said quietly, almost to himself.

  Gabriel didn’t respond. After a moment, he shifted his gaze away from the doorway and spoke evenly. “Let’s move somewhere else. The view here is no good.”

  Akio gave a short nod. They turned in unison and stepped back through the entrance they had used earlier. The cool night air met them immediately, and as he walked, Akio’s thoughts were already reorganizing.

  The Hollow was planning something. That much was certain. His proximity to Aira was not coincidence. He was a liability walking freely within arm’s reach of her. They would need a solution—one that neutralized the threat without detonating the fragile social web around her.

  And though the plan was still unclear, Akio knew one thing with absolute certainty: if the opportunity for elimination presented itself again, he would not hesitate.

  He would not spare him twice.

  ─ ? NEXT CHAPTER POV ? ─

  Hyakki