The apartment went dark.
Lights flickered once, then died entirely.
Aya's eyes adjusted immediately. Ren's sketch lines on the floor pulsed faintly, casting soft, angular shadows across the walls.
"Not them already," Ren muttered, voice low but calm.
Aya's hand brushed subtly against his sleeve as she stood. Not a gesture for anyone to notice, just enough to anchor them both.
From the hallway, a faint whisper of movement reached them.
Then they appeared.
Shadows stretched and shimmered into solid forms — three masked figures stepping silently, almost like they emerged from the darkness itself. The aura around them twisted the faint light in the room, bending it without flashing or strobing.
Ren's hands flexed slightly, the faintest trace of his sketches lifting off the floor like ribbons in the air.
"Stay close," Aya murmured, her calm teasing edge intact. "Don't get too cocky."
Ren smirked faintly. "You worry too much."
One of the figures lunged forward. The aura around its hands glimmered like ink spilling into water.
Aya moved first — not flashy, not aggressive — but precise. She shifted between Ren and the attacker, blocking and redirecting with a soft wave of her own Resonance. It was subtle, protective, yet effective.
Ren noticed. And he did the same for her. Not loudly, not dramatically, just a hand subtly guiding her away from a strike, a sketch line ready to deflect an incoming attack.
They moved together almost instinctively.
The CEA agents froze for a moment, caught between protocol and instinct.
"Stay calm," Livia whispered, her usual composure intact.
"Don't get hit," Aya added quietly to Ren — only he could hear. Her small smile was faint but steady, the kind she reserved for private moments.
Ren glanced at her. His lips curled just slightly. "Noted."
The masked figures pressed closer, their movements synchronized, shadows rippling like smoke.
Then, in a sudden moment of silence, all of them paused — as if feeling something in the room's aura.
Ren's sketch ribbons floated higher, twisting into subtle shapes that hinted at defensive structures. Aya mirrored him, her sculpted constructs forming soft, glowing barriers.
A single beam of streetlight filtered through the blinds, illuminating the two of them. Side by side. Calm. Connected.
And then the lights returned — the masked figures had vanished as suddenly as they appeared.
Ren exhaled. "Huh. Gone already."
Aya's hand brushed against his sleeve again. A subtle reminder.
He noticed.
And for a moment, neither of them spoke, just felt the quiet after the storm.
The apartment smelled faintly of tea and faint dust from the ceiling where the shadows had swirled.
"Looks like tonight isn't over," Aya finally said, voice calm, teasing, holding a hint of something deeper.
Ren leaned back into the couch. "Yeah. But I like it when it's just us."
Aya gave the tiniest, private smile — the kind only he would ever see.