A Name That Shouldn't Answer
The Message That Ends a Life
The encrypted CIA channel went silent.
Then one final bulletin circulated through classified networks:
Status Update:
Agent Ethan Hondou — KIA (Killed in Action).
Cause: Explosion during counter-intelligence operation.
Case Closed.
No body released.
No further investigation.
Just a clean, convenient death.
A Grandfather's Call
Hidemi's phone rang.
The caller ID showed a name she both respected and feared.
Karasuma Renya.
She answered immediately.
"…Grandfather."
There was a pause on the line—longer than usual.
Then Renya spoke, his voice low, controlled, but heavy.
"Hidemi.
Ethan Hondou… is dead."
The world tilted.
For a moment, Hidemi couldn't breathe.
She remembered that meeting—
Her father standing beside her, calm as always.
"If I keep digging into Zoo,"
"I'll probably die within two years."
He had said it so casually.
Like talking about the weather.
And now—
"…I understand," Hidemi whispered.
She ended the call with perfect composure.
Then her knees gave out.
The Man Who Came Instead
The door opened softly.
Keith stepped inside.
The moment Hidemi saw him, the control she'd built shattered.
She rushed forward and hugged him tightly, burying her face against his chest.
"I lost him…" she cried.
"I really lost him…"
Keith wrapped his arms around her without hesitation, holding her firmly.
"I know," he said quietly.
"I'm here."
Behind him—
A man stood still.
Silver-gray hair.
Different face.
Different presence.
Ethan Hunt.
He did not step forward.
He did not speak.
Because Keith had told him the truth:
"To her, you are dead."
And a dead man doesn't reach for his daughter.
The Strength to Look Up
After a while, Hidemi's sobs faded.
She stepped back, wiped her eyes, and noticed the other man.
"…Keith," she asked softly,
"Who is he?"
Keith turned slightly.
"This is Ethan Hunt," he said.
"A retired private mercenary. He'll be working with us."
Hidemi's heart skipped—just for a fraction of a second.
The name.
The presence.
But the face wasn't her father's.
She steadied herself, then bowed politely.
"…Please take care of us."
Ethan Hunt moved then.
Slowly.
Carefully.
He stepped forward and gently patted Hidemi's head, just once.
A familiar gesture.
"I will," he said firmly.
"With my life."
Hidemi looked up, surprised by the warmth in his voice.
"…Thank you, Mr. Hunt."
He smiled.
A small, controlled smile.
The kind her father used when he was trying not to show too much.
Three Truths, One Lie
Keith watched them silently.
Hidemi believed her father was dead.
The world believed Ethan Hondou was gone.
Zoo believed they had won.
Only three people in that room knew the truth.
• Ethan Hondou still lived
• He stood inches from his daughter
• And one day—when the war was over—
He would reclaim his name.
For now, though—
The dead stayed dead.
And Ethan Hunt began his watch.