The Kujou estate was at the terminus of a lined avenue, its wrought-iron gate casting long shadows across the light of evening. Even from a distance, Hayato could sense the strained quiet that clung to the estate, not born of abandonment, but of being watched.
He had been here before, in an earlier loop. Long enough to remember the laughter of Alya Kujou, her bright energy bringing the halls to life. But on this loop, it was not Alya who came out to greet him.
Maria Mikhailovna Kujou was different from her younger sister. Where Alya had been rapid smiles and agitated motion, Maria was serenity incarnate. Her white, flowing hair was brushed back from one shoulder, and her cold gray eyes radiated an impassivity that edged into indestructibility.
"Hayato, isn't it?" she said, voice deep, measured, and faintly accented. "Alya talked about you."
She led him inside, her stride unhurried, every movement deliberate. The interior of the house mirrored her, polished, orderly, almost austere.
"I'm afraid you've caught us at an… inconvenient time," Maria said as they reached the sitting room. "Some issues with the family's overseas business have made my father uneasy. There have been… disagreements."
The tone was neutral, but the message was unmistakable: disputes that did not get settled in boardrooms.
Hayato's gaze turned to the discreet security upgrades in the room, the extra deadbolt on the door, the minuscule camera tucked away in the bookshelf, and the slight outline of a concealed compartment in the wall.
Maria caught him noticing. "You can relax. We are utterly safe here."
He almost told her the truth, that in another loop, he'd stood in this same room, too late to stop the sound of glass shattering and masked men flooding in.
Instead, he said, "I hope you're right."
For a heartbeat, something flickered in her eyes, not fear, but recognition that his words carried weight.
Outside, somewhere past the gates, a car engine ticked over a trifle too long before moving on.
It was little more than nine at night. The Kujou estate was heavy and deliberately silent, the kind you feel in expensive establishments, where even the sound is deliberate.
Maria lounged across from Hayato in the sitting room, back straight, the steam off her tea curling upwards like a living picture.
You're coiled," she said without looking up at her cup. "As if waiting for a storm that you can see but nobody else can."
Hayato didn't react immediately. His ears were tuned to something else, and there it was.
A gentle scrape of glass and metal.
He rose immediately. "Maria-"
The sharp snap of breaking glass silenced the room. A moment later, the muffled alarm beeped once… then fell still.
Three figures in black burst into the hall. Crowbar. Knife. Gun.
Maria started to advance, her voice cold and icy. "This is trespassing-"
"Behind me!" Hayato growled, already charging.
The man with the crowbar struck first. Hayato dodged beneath the arc, closed his hand around the shaft, and pulled it straight out into the man's jaw. Bone hit metal with a disgusting clang, and the man dropped.
The one wielding the knife charged. Hayato whipped around, grabbed the man's wrist, and slammed it against the edge of the low table. The knife clattered onto the floor. He followed this with a kick that sent the assailant stumbling back against a chair.
The shooter hesitated, a killing hesitation. Hayato covered ground, punching his arm up, swinging the muzzle into the ceiling. The shot boomed like thunder, raining glass fragments down on the chandelier. Hayato wriggled the gun free and slammed the butt into the man's side, sending him wheezing onto the floor.
The air was thick with adrenaline and broken glass. All three intruders were groaning on the floor, gasping but defeated.
Maria, so poised, advanced, eyes flashing. "You know how to fight someone who's done this before," she whispered.
Hayato let the gun drop to the carpet. "And you stay so cool like someone who's seen too much."
They stood there staring at each other for a moment, both of them knowing this was a long way from over, but tonight they'd triumphed.
The sirens in the distance were already faint, overridden by the gentle hum of expensive tires on gravel.
Maria glanced up at the front door. "That's them," she breathed, as if this were an ordinary night, as if three unconscious men weren't bleeding all over her Persian rug.
The massive double doors swung open.
Her father was the first to arrive, tall, broad-shouldered, his mere presence blocking off the foyer. Her mother came next, elegant even in travel attire, and Alya last.
Alya was standing stock-still halfway through the room, her shopping bag pounding onto the floor with a soft thud.
"What the-?!" Her voice was shrill and rasping in the spacious room. She wagged her finger at the scattered victims. "Maria?! What the hell went on here?!"
Her father's eyes snapped toward Hayato, sizing him up in an instant. "Who are you?" The question wasn't so much spoken as demanded.
Hayato stood tall, breathing slowly, trying to keep his voice level. "I'm a student. A friend. Just passing by. These men broke in. I stopped them."
Alya's eyes darted from him to her sister. "Maria, are you-"
"Fine." Maria sounded flat, curt, but a spark shone in her eyes. "Hayato was. resourceful."
Her father crouched over the gunman, feeling for pulses. "You neutralized three men with guns all alone?"
Hayato said nothing. He knew whatever he said would only lead to more questions, questions he could not answer without unraveling the loop.
Alya crossed her arms, still glaring at him as if he'd developed horns. "You're not exactly the 'just visiting' type of fellow, are you?"
Maria looked from her sister to Hayato, her expression unreadable. "Perhaps we can discuss this somewhere else."
Her father's security men swept in through the back door, asserting control. The three intruders were dragged away, cursing and grumbling in choked whispers.
As the disturbance made its way to the door, Maria gently grasped Hayato's arm, guiding him into the study.
"Whatever you are, Hayato," she breathed softly, so that only he could hear, "you're not like the rest. And I'm going to find out why.".
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Thanks for reading. You can also give me ideas for the future or pinpoint plot holes that I may have forgotten, if you want.
Powerstones. Me. Give. Now.