The sky was still overcast from last night's rain, and the damp morning air clung to the streets. The neon lights that had bled through the apartment's curtains were now nothing more than faint reflections on wet pavement.
I tightened my jacket, shifting my gaze toward Ayane as she finished getting ready.
She stood by the small mirror near the door, adjusting the collar of her jacket. Her movements were effortless, precise—almost second nature. Even in something as simple as a plain sweater and jeans, she had a way of making it look elegant, as if she belonged in a different world entirely.
I caught myself staring.
Her dark hair fell slightly over her shoulder as she zipped up her jacket, exposing a brief glimpse of the curve beneath before the fabric concealed it again. It wasn't intentional—she was just getting dressed. And yet, my eyes lingered a second longer than they should have.
She noticed.
"You done checking me out?"
I blinked, immediately looking away. "I wasn't—"
She turned, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at her lips. "You totally were."
"You're imagining things," I muttered, grabbing my bag.
"Uh-huh." She didn't sound convinced.
I ignored her and headed for the door. "We should get going."
She followed, still smirking. "If you wanted to see more, you could've just asked."
I sighed. "Are you always this annoying in the morning?"
"Only when I have an audience."
I didn't dignify that with a response. Instead, I stepped outside, holding the door open for her. The cold air hit immediately, the scent of damp concrete and cigarette smoke filling my lungs. Ayane slipped past me, her shoulder brushing against mine.
The streets were quieter than usual. The city was waking up, but the weight of what we were about to do kept my mind sharp.
"You sure about this?" I asked as we walked. "Kaito could be leading us into a trap."
Ayane tucked her hands into her pockets. "Maybe. But it's not like we have better options."
I sighed. She wasn't wrong.
The streets stretched ahead, narrow alleyways branching off like veins, the sound of distant traffic humming beneath it all. We walked in silence for a while, each step bringing us closer to the unknown.
Then Ayane broke the quiet.
"What do you think he wants?"
I glanced at her. "You mean Kaito?"
She nodded. "He showed up out of nowhere. Claims to be my family. But why now?"
I hesitated before answering. "I don't know. But if he really is your family…"
She scoffed. "You think that makes a difference?"
I didn't answer right away. "Maybe not. But it means he knows something. And right now, that's what we need."
She exhaled, kicking a stray pebble along the sidewalk. "Tch. Just don't get all sentimental on me, Ken. Family's not something I ever had."
I frowned but didn't push it.
The further we walked, the more the cityscape shifted. The modern buildings gave way to older structures, some abandoned, others barely standing. And then, after what felt like an eternity, we saw it.
Kaito's house.
A massive, traditional-style building—like a dogo, a relic from another time. Wooden beams, intricate carvings, and a tiled roof that stretched over the entrance like a watchful guardian. It stood out, untouched by the decay around it.
Ayane stopped beside me, her gaze unreadable. "So… this is it."
I studied the building, unease settling in my stomach. "Yeah."
The air felt heavier here.
And something told me we were walking straight into something we weren't ready.
The wooden door slid open with a soft creak, revealing the man standing behind it.
Kaito.
His presence wasn't overwhelming, but there was something unsettling about how casually he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, as if he had been expecting us. His outfit was simple—just a plain button-up shirt and dark jeans. Nothing that screamed danger. Nothing that suggested he was someone we should fear. And yet, neither Ayane nor I lowered our guard.
He glanced at us, then smirked. "Relax. If I wanted you dead, I wouldn't have invited you in the first place."
Ayane didn't move. "Forgive me if I don't take your word for it."
Kaito chuckled, stepping aside. "Fair enough. But I really do want to help you, Ayane."
Ayane didn't respond. She simply glanced at me, and I gave her a slight nod. For now, we'd hear him out.
We stepped inside.
The interior was exactly what I expected—an old yet well-maintained space, the wooden floors creaking under our weight. Dim lighting cast long shadows across the walls, making the room feel larger than it was. The faint scent of incense lingered in the air.
Kaito led us down a narrow hallway, his pace unhurried. "You're both on edge. That's good. Smart." He glanced back with a smirk. "But unnecessary."
"I'll decide that for myself," I muttered.
He let out an amused breath before sliding open another door. "Then sit. Listen. And decide after."
Inside was a traditional-style room with a low wooden table in the center. A single candle flickered on its surface, casting a warm glow. Kaito motioned for us to sit, and we did—Ayane first, then me, keeping my eyes on him.
He looked like he was about to speak, but I cut in before he could.
"Before we get into anything else," I said, voice low but firm, "I want to know who you really are."
Kaito tilted his head slightly. "I already told you—"
"No," I interrupted. "Not your name. Not the surface-level answers. I want to know what you are to ayane. To me. Why now? Why show up after everything that's happened?"
He didn't respond right away.
Ayane stayed quiet, watching him from the corner of her eye.
I leaned back slightly, narrowing my eyes. "So why tell us all this now? After everything? Why not years ago?"
Kaito's gaze dropped for a moment. "Because things weren't ready then. Because it was too dangerous."
He looked up again, more serious now—none of the smugness from before.
"But now... it's time to end it. All of it. This war between bloodlines, the ghosts we've inherited—it has to die with the man who started it."
I didn't have to ask who he meant.
"Satarou," I said quietly.
He nodded. "Your father. The head of the old Fushiguro line. He's the last piece still breathing. And if he stays alive, this war never ends. You'll both be hunted. Forever."
Ayane's eyes didn't waver. "So you brought us here to turn us into your little weapons?"
Kaito shook his head. "No. I brought you here because you deserve the truth. And because I want to help."
He turned toward her, and for once, his voice lost its sharp edge.
"No matter what happened in the past, I would never hurt you, Ayane. That's not why I'm here."
She tilted her head, unimpressed. "Wow. A cousin who won't stab me in the back. How touching. Should I be crying?"
Kaito smirked faintly. "Guess the stories weren't exaggerated."
Ayane raised an eyebrow. "Stories?"
He nodded. "Your mother talked about you. Even the ones who hunted you... they described someone sharp, defiant. I've been watching you from a distance for years. You haven't changed."
She scoffed. "I don't know whether to feel flattered or creeped out."
"Both's probably fair," he said.
I watched him quietly, letting the moment settle—but inside, something itched at me.
He was too smooth. Too ready for every response.
That kind of preparation didn't come from reading files or listening to whispers.
It came from something deeper. Something closer.
But I didn't say anything.
Not yet.
Ayane rolled her eyes. "You say that like you've earned the right to try."
I stayed still beside her. Kaito might've meant what he said—but trust doesn't come with words. It's built in the silences between them.
"I think we have wasted enough time, now tell the main reason you called us, I don't expect a family reunion" She said.
Folding his arms. "Fair enough," he said finally. "You want the truth?"
I didn't blink. "That's the only thing I came here for."
Kaito folded his arms, his eyes flickering with a mix of regret and something darker.
"I suppose I should start with the reason I called you here."
Ayane's gaze hardened. "Make it quick."
He smirked slightly. "Always blunt. I like that."
"Don't flatter yourself."
Kaito's expression turned serious. "Ayane, Ken—your families are… connected. More than you think."
I narrowed my eyes. "Connected how?"
Kaito leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Your bloodlines come from two ancient clans—two sides of the same coin, but bitter enemies."
Ayane scoffed. "Sounds like a fairy tale."
"It's not," Kaito said, voice sharp. "Your family, Ken's—the Fushiguro clan—were assassins. Trained from birth to be killers. Silent, efficient, merciless."
I stiffened. "Assassins?"
"Yes. And Ayane's family—the Hoshigaki—were the guardians. Protectors of balance and justice. They believed in strength with honor, opposing your clan's ruthless tactics."
Ayane's eyes flashed. "So what? We were enemies from the start? Born to hate each other?"
Kaito nodded slowly. "The clans have been at war for centuries. Generations of bloodshed, revenge, and broken trust. Your mother was a Hoshigaki—one of the strongest guardians."
Her breath hitched, but she kept her composure.
"And?" I urged.
Kaito's voice dropped, heavy with meaning. "She was killed protecting you during a raid. The Fushiguro targeted the Hoshigaki to weaken their influence."
Ayane's fists clenched. "That's a lie."
"Is it?" Kaito challenged. "You never questioned why you were hidden away, why Ken was sent away too. It was to protect you both—from this war."
I swallowed hard. "So all this time, we were pawns?"
"Not pawns," Kaito said, eyes locking on mine. "Weapons. Tools in a family war you never asked for."
Ayane's voice shook slightly. "Why tell us this now? Why come back after all these years?"
"Because the past never forgets." Kaito smiled grimly. "And your enemies are still hunting you."
Ayane leaned back slightly, arms crossed tight against her chest.
"This doesn't make any sense," she muttered.
Kaito looked at her, but said nothing.
She continued, sharper now. "You're telling me I was some hidden heir to a noble clan, marked for death since birth. But I was in an orphanage for years. Alone. And no one came. Not until I met Ken."
Her eyes narrowed. "Did you know me then?"
Kaito didn't answer right away. His gaze dropped to the floor.
"No," he admitted quietly. "I didn't."
Ayane's brow furrowed. "So when did you find out? When did all this—me, my family, any of it—actually matter to you?"
Kaito hesitated, jaw tightening. His fingers curled slightly around his sleeve. I saw it—the brief flash of something behind his eyes. Regret, maybe. Or guilt.
"It was… after your mother died."
Ayane blinked, the breath catching in her throat before she could stop it.
"What?" Her voice was low, brittle.
Kaito looked away, just for a second.
"She was killed a few years ago," he said. "Outside the northern district. Stab wounds. Quick. Professional."
I saw it now. The way his posture stiffened. The restraint in his voice.
He wasn't detached. He was holding it in.
"It was obvious who was behind it," he added. "Fushiguro loyalists. The old branch. They'd been hunting for her ever since she broke away."
Ayane didn't speak. She just stared at him, expression unreadable.
Kaito's eyes finally met hers again. "She was trying to find you. That's why she died."
A long silence stretched between us.
Ayane didn't react.
No gasp. No anger. No tears.
She just sat there, unmoving, her expression unreadable.
As if the words hadn't registered.
Or maybe they had—and just didn't matter.
Kaito didn't push. He just looked down at the floor, jaw set tight.
I finally spoke.
"If my father's men killed Sayaka," I said, my voice low, "then how are you still alive?"
Kaito looked up at me. There was no smugness in his face now. Only something quieter. Heavier.
"Because she asked me to disappear."
I frowned. "What?"
"She helped me," he said, slowly. "Years ago. When she realized her time was running out. She knew the old clan wouldn't stop. She knew they'd find her eventually."
He glanced at Ayane, but she still hadn't moved.
"She didn't ask for revenge. She didn't ask me to fight. She asked me to find you," he said, voice tightening, "and protect you."
Ken stayed quiet, his fists clenched just out of sight beneath the table.
Kaito continued, more subdued. "I thought the war was over. I thought my family had walked away from the bloodshed. But I was wrong."
His gaze dropped again.
"I was naive."
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, trying to gather my thoughts.
"So… this is how it all fits."
It wasn't just a coincidence. Not entirely fate, either. Our bloodlines—mine and Ayane's—had been at war for generations. The Fushiguro clan, assassins bred in silence. The Hoshigaki, guardians sworn to balance. We were born enemies, made from history and blood.
And maybe, originally, that's all we were supposed to be. Opposites. Threats.
But then we met—long before either of us knew what we were. Before names like Fushiguro and Hoshigaki meant anything. Before war.
And maybe that's the one thing my father didn't predict.
Maybe his plan was to find Ayane later, remove her quietly. But when I found her first... something changed. Maybe he thought her aligning with me could be an asset. Maybe he thought she could be used, turned, shaped.
Or maybe he just waited. Calculating. Watching.
And now we're here. The last two pieces left on the board.
The game isn't over.
It's just finally beginning.
Ayane finally broke the silence.
"Doesn't matter," she said, standing slowly. "Whatever history we carry—whatever he planned—none of it changes the fact that we need to stop him."
Her voice wasn't angry.
It was focused.
Resolved.
She turned to Kaito, arms crossed. "So what now? You've been watching all this unfold. Do you have a plan, or was this just story time?"
Kaito didn't react to the jab.
He nodded once, calm and steady. "I have a plan."
Ayane arched an eyebrow. "Is it something we'll survive?"
A faint smirk tugged at the edge of Kaito's mouth. "If we're lucky."
I didn't say anything.
Not yet.
But as I looked at Ayane—standing tall, fire in her eyes—and Kaito—dead serious for once—I knew something had changed.
We weren't just trying to survive anymore.
We were about to fight back
"Well, it pretty late now for making plan so we will talk about it tomorrow"
"What the hell, you can't leave just like that" She said.
It may have sounded stupid to stop at the most important part but we all knew that no one of us was in the condition to think properly.
"It's fine Ayane, we should rest today and talk tomorrow"
"You are the smart one ken", he said in an amusing voice.
"I will prepare the room for you, I hope you don't mind a single room because I only prepared one for Ayane."
He sure was a jerk,
"No, I don't mind." She interfered.
"Sure then come"
We followed him to the end of the corridor to an old room.
"What a well-prepared room," I said.
"I didn't really had much time"
"Wherever now go, I want to rest," She said and immediately went inside.
The door clicked shut behind us.
We didn't say anything for a while. Just the sound of our steps across the creaky floorboards.
Ayane tossed her jacket onto the chair and dropped onto the couch without a word.
I leaned against the wall, arms crossed.
"You good?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer.
She didn't look at me. "Define 'good.'"
"Still breathing," I muttered. "That counts."
She let out a dry exhale. "Then yeah. Sure. I'm great."
I pushed off the wall and crossed the room, grabbing a bottle of water from the table and tossing it to her. "Here. Drink something before you start overthinking yourself to death."
She caught it easily. "You're such a nurturing soul."
"And you're terrible at pretending you're fine."
She cracked open the bottle, took a sip, then stared out the window. "I don't get it, Ken. How the hell is this our life?"
"Assassin bloodlines. Family betrayals. Shadow wars." I dropped onto the edge of the bed. "Honestly? Could be worse."
She gave me a look. "You serious?"
I smirked. "No."
A beat passed.
"You believe Kaito?" she asked.
I nodded slowly. "Yeah. Not all of it. But enough."
She swirled the water bottle between her hands. "He knows too much. About me. About you. It creeps me out."
"He didn't lie, though," I said. "And he didn't have to tell us any of this."
She raised an eyebrow. "So what? He's our ally now?"
"I didn't say that," I muttered. "But right now, he's not the enemy. And in this mess, that's something."
She leaned her head back, staring up at the ceiling. "So what now?"
I shrugged. "We sleep. We breathe. And tomorrow… we figure out how to kill my father."
She laughed once. Short. Cold.
"That easy, huh?"
"Nothing about this is easy."
"Whatever"
She pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and threw it over herself.
"Don't disappear in the middle of the night," she mumbled.
"I'm not going anywhere."
I turned off the light, settling against the window frame.
We didn't talk after that.
But for the first time in a while, the silence didn't feel like a threat.
It felt… tolerable.
Like we were both still here.
For now.