Yuiri's Perspective: The Red Glow Beneath the Fabric
The night was a relentless storm, rain slashing down like shards of glass on the dark streets of Shibuya. Each drop pounded against the cold concrete, turning the city into a blur of shimmering lights and shadows. Yuiri pressed herself close to Arata, feeling the heat radiating from him through the soaked fabric of their jackets. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, each beat a desperate reminder of how fragile their hold on this night was.
Her eyes darted downward, catching a faint, pulsing red glow beneath the folds of Arata's jacket. It flickered softly against his skin, a strange and ominous pulse that didn't belong. Her breath caught, the realization slicing through her mind like ice — a tracker.
Her mind screamed with conflicting urges. Should she tell him now? Risk shattering his focus just when they needed it most? Or wait, watch, and find a way to deal with this hidden enemy silently?
Her fingers twitched, aching to reach out and expose the secret. But fear curled around her like a tightening noose. If he panics... if he lashes out... The thought made her hesitate.
The red pulse seemed alive beneath his skin — a steady heartbeat that was not his own, a silent signal inviting enemies into their midst.
She swallowed hard and settled into silence, clutching the secret close. For now.
Arata's POV: The Bitter Taste of Betrayal
Yuiri's hesitation was palpable. Her eyes betrayed the weight of the secret she carried, but the words stayed locked in her throat. Arata's instincts sharpened — something was wrong, but he couldn't name it yet.
Finally, her voice broke the heavy silence, trembling but urgent. "There's… something beneath your jacket. A red light. A tracker."
Time seemed to freeze.
His mind convulsed with bitter memories — Renji's name screamed in his thoughts like a ghost. The one he had trusted, the man who had manipulated, lied, and betrayed from the shadows.
Arata's jaw clenched so tight it ached. His fists balled up, nails digging into palms.
That tracker wasn't just a device — it was a scar branded on his flesh, a constant reminder of Renji's reach and ruthlessness.
His breath came out ragged. "We're not safe. Not yet." His voice was low, rough. "We need to get it out."
Yuiri nodded, eyes fierce despite the cold and rain. Together, they moved, every sense alert.
The Chase Through the Storm Drains
Thunder cracked overhead, masking the growing drone hum behind them.
They plunged into the network of storm drains beneath the city, a twisting maze slick with rainwater and dripping grime.
The air was thick with cold and dread. Every step echoed ominously in the tunnels.
Behind them, cold metal eyes of NOKRA's drones sliced through the darkness, searchlights darting like predatory flames.
Yuiri's foot slipped, and she almost fell. Arata grabbed her arm, steadying her.
"Stay close," he whispered fiercely.
The chase was a deadly dance — narrow corridors that threatened to trap them, sharp turns, slippery slopes.
The drones' mechanical whirs grew louder, their sensors scanning for the faint pulse beneath Arata's skin.
Adrenaline surged, every breath ragged, every heartbeat a countdown.
Arata's memories of past betrayals and lost comrades haunted him in this moment — but now was not the time for weakness.
They sprinted deeper, shadows swallowing their footsteps, chasing hope through the storm's fury.
Tracker Extraction: The Improvised Surgery
Finding a forgotten utility chamber dimly lit by a flickering emergency bulb, they took refuge.
Arata peeled off his soaked jacket, revealing the faint red glow beneath his skin—a small, embedded device pressing painfully against muscle and nerve.
Yuiri pulled out their small toolkit — a collection of makeshift instruments gathered in haste.
"This is going to hurt," she whispered, her hands steady but her voice trembling.
"I know," Arata said through clenched teeth. Pain was nothing new. Fear was worse.
Yuiri worked with precision, her fingers trembling but determined. The cold metal of the device pressed beneath his skin like a living parasite.
Arata's breaths came sharp, a low groan escaping his lips as she carefully began to pry the tracker free.
Every second stretched endlessly — pain searing through his side.
Then, the device flickered erratically — a last defiant pulse — and suddenly went dark.
Yuiri let out a shaky breath. "Got it."
Arata's body sagged with relief and exhaustion.
But the relief was fragile.
The Decoy Plan: Misdirection in the Dark
"We can't just destroy it," Arata said, eyeing the tracker's small red light, still faintly pulsing.
Yuiri's mind raced.
"If we use it to lure them away... a decoy."
They wrapped the tracker carefully in scraps of Arata's jacket, tying it to a bundle of debris.
With a nod, Arata hurled the decoy into the shadowed tunnel behind them.
The drones' sensors flared instantly, alerted by the tracker's signal.
Metallic whirs and mechanical clicks echoed as the drones shifted course.
"Go!" Arata commanded.
They sprinted away, hearts pounding as the drones poured after the decoy.
Shelter and Shadows: The Uneasy Dawn
They stumbled into an abandoned subway station — dark, cold, littered with rusted benches and peeling posters.
Yuiri sank down, exhausted but alive.
Arata paced, eyes scanning every shadow.
Sleep would not come.
Renji's name haunted every thought — the bitter sting of manipulation still fresh.
Could he trust anyone now?
Yuiri reached out, placing a hand on his arm — silent comfort in a world gone cold.
They sat in the uneasy quiet, the pulse beneath the skin gone — but the storm inside only beginning.
End of chapter 10