Unwanted emotion

As they navigated through the cruise ship’s grand ballroom, the tension between them was palpable. Kenji remained silent, his sharp eyes scanning the room for their target, but his mind kept replaying that damn kiss. He knew it was meaningless, yet something about it gnawed at him.

Alexeier, on the other hand, was keenly aware of Kenji’s mood. The way his senpai’s shoulders were just a bit tenser than usual, how his grip on his glass was a little too tight.

"Senpai," Alexeier finally broke the silence as they stood near the balcony, away from the growing crowd. "You sure you're focused?"

Kenji let out a short chuckle, adjusting his glasses. "Of course. I always am."

Alexeier leaned in slightly. "Then why do you look like you're about to shoot Anya instead of our target?"

Kenji clicked his tongue and took a sip of his drink. "I just don't like distractions." His gaze flickered to Alexeier. "And you let one cling to you like a leech."

Alexeier smirked, leaning on the railing. "Jealous?"

Kenji shot him a glare. "Tch. Get over yourself."

Before Alexeier could tease further, a soft chime signaled the start of the evening’s main event—the arrival of their target. Their playful tension dissolved as their assassin instincts kicked in.

"Eyes on the prize, senpai," Alexeier murmured, stepping away from the balcony.

Kenji exhaled slowly, pushing the annoyance aside. "Let’s finish this."

They both straightened their postures and blended into the ballroom crowd, ready to strike.

As the ballroom lights dimmed slightly, signaling the arrival of the high-profile guests, Kenji and Alexeier discreetly adjusted their earpieces. Raven’s voice crackled through the line.

“Your target just entered. Fourth floor, VIP lounge. He’s heavily guarded.”

Kenji’s eyes flickered toward the upper levels. Through the reflection on the champagne glasses, he spotted their mark—an older man in a tailored suit, flanked by two armed bodyguards.

Alexeier whispered, “I’ll get close. Keep an eye on me.”

Kenji scoffed. “As if I’d let you handle this alone.”

Before they could move, Anya suddenly appeared again, her hand brushing Alexeier’s sleeve. “Alex! There’s an afterparty later, you should come—”

Kenji immediately stepped between them. His smile was sharp, but his voice held an edge. “Sorry, sweetheart, but he’s busy.”

Anya blinked in surprise, sensing the hostility. Alexeier, smirking, gently placed a hand on Kenji’s shoulder. “Let’s go, senpai. We have work to do.”

Kenji shot one last glare at Anya before turning away with Alexeier, disappearing into the crowd.

—

Upstairs, the security was tighter than expected. Kenji and Alexeier slipped past the first checkpoint, dressed as wealthy guests, but the second level required an access key.

Alexeier whispered, “We need a distraction.”

Kenji grinned. “Leave that to me.”

A moment later, a fire alarm blared through the speakers. The startled guests began murmuring, and security guards rushed to assess the situation.

Alexeier used the chaos to swiftly swipe a keycard from a distracted guard’s belt. He flashed it toward Kenji with a smirk. “Easy.”

Kenji rolled his eyes. “Show-off.”

With the keycard, they slipped into the restricted VIP area, moving closer to their target.

“Be quick,” Raven reminded them through the earpiece. “No collateral damage.”

Kenji and Alexeier exchanged a glance, then advanced down the corridor, ready to strike.

As they navigated the VIP corridor, Kenji’s sharp eyes scanned for hidden security cameras. Alexeier held up a hand, signaling him to stop. He pointed at a guard posted near their target’s private lounge.

Kenji smirked. “I’ll take care of him.”

Before Alexeier could protest, Kenji strode forward, adjusting his suit. The guard barely had time to react before Kenji slammed his elbow into his throat, cutting off any chance for an alarm. As the man choked, Kenji swiftly twisted his wrist, silencing him for good.

Alexeier sighed. “Subtle.”

Kenji wiped his hands. “You wanted clean. I didn’t spill a drop.”

They swiped the guard’s ID and entered the lounge. Inside, their target sat comfortably, sipping expensive whiskey. He was an older man, his sharp eyes betraying years of experience in the criminal world.

He looked up, unconcerned. “Ah. I was wondering when you’d arrive.”

Kenji and Alexeier didn’t flinch. The man chuckled and leaned back. “You’re here to kill me, aren’t you?”

Alexeier stepped forward. “You’re too calm for a dead man.”

The target smirked. “Because I made arrangements. If I die, certain... inconvenient truths about your organization might surface.”

Kenji narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t bluffing. The way he spoke suggested confidence—backup plans, blackmail material, leverage.

Raven’s voice cut through their earpieces. “Change of plans. Extract him. I need information.”

Kenji’s fingers twitched. Killing was easier than extracting. But orders were orders.

Alexeier moved fast, pulling out a silenced pistol. “Then we’ll take you with us.”

The man laughed, taking another sip. “Oh, my dear boy. Do you think it’ll be that simple?”

Suddenly, an alarm blared through the ship. Security had been alerted.

Kenji gritted his teeth. “Tch. Looks like we’re doing this the hard way.”

They had to move—fast.

The moment the alarm blared, the ship’s security forces mobilized. Heavy boots pounded against the deck, voices shouting orders as armed guards closed in on the lounge.

Kenji cursed under his breath. “We don’t have time for this.”

Alexeier grabbed their target by the collar, yanking him to his feet. “Move.”

But the old man chuckled. “Boys, you should know better than to walk into a trap unprepared.”

A second later, a hidden panel in the wall slid open—more guards, heavily armed, stormed in, rifles raised. Kenji’s instincts kicked in. Before the first guard could fire, he ducked low, yanked out a concealed blade, and slit the man’s femoral artery in one fluid motion.

Gunfire erupted. Alexeier dragged their target behind an overturned table as bullets tore through expensive furniture. Kenji dove for cover, pulling out his silenced pistol. With quick precision, he shot two guards between the eyes before rolling aside to avoid return fire.

“Raven! Extraction is getting messy!” Alexeier growled into his earpiece.

Raven’s voice came back sharp. “Get to the upper deck. Evac is waiting.”

Kenji reloaded. “Then let’s clear a path.”

He and Alexeier moved in perfect sync—Kenji weaving through close combat, blades flashing, while Alexeier provided cover fire, each shot precise and lethal.

The old man coughed, struggling to keep up as they forced their way through the corridors. “I underestimated you two.”

Kenji glared at him. “Yeah? You won’t live long enough to regret it.”

As they reached the upper deck, the night air hit them—along with the sight of more security swarming the area. The escape chopper hovered just beyond the railing, Raven waiting inside.

“Jump!” Raven ordered.

Kenji didn’t hesitate. Grabbing the target by the collar, he vaulted over the railing, landing hard on the helicopter’s floor. Alexeier followed, firing a last shot midair before landing beside him.

The chopper took off just as gunfire sprayed behind them. The ship shrank in the distance, alarms still blaring.

Kenji leaned back, breathing heavily. “That was a mess.”

Raven smirked. “But you handled it.” She glanced at their battered target. “Now, let’s get some answers.”

The mission wasn’t over yet.

The helicopter soared through the dark sky, slicing through the night wind as Kenji and Alexeier sat across from their captive. The old man, bruised and bloodied, coughed weakly but managed a smirk.

"You boys think you've won?" he rasped. "You don’t even know what you're up against."

Kenji cracked his knuckles, his patience wearing thin. "I don’t need to know. I just need you to start talking."

Alexeier’s cold gaze locked onto the man. "Sung Jae’s network. Who’s left?"

The old man chuckled despite the pain. "You think cutting off one head means the body dies? There’s always someone ready to take the throne."

Kenji’s grip on his knife tightened. He had no tolerance for riddles, and the scars on his body screamed for vengeance. But before he could make a move, Raven intervened.

"Enough," she said. "We get what we need first. Then you can break him however you want."

Kenji exhaled sharply, leaning back, but his dark eyes never left their captive.

The helicopter touched down at a remote location—one of Raven’s safehouses. Inside, the dim lighting cast long shadows as the interrogation began.

Alexeier stood with his arms crossed, letting Kenji take the lead. Kenji pulled out his switchblade, flipping it casually. "Let’s make this easy. Tell us who’s next in line after Sung Jae."

The old man spat blood on the floor. "Kill me, and you’ll never find out."

Kenji smirked, his knife dancing between his fingers. "You misunderstand. You’re dying no matter what. The only choice you have is how painful it gets."

Alexeier watched silently, feeling the shift in Kenji. His senpai was no longer just the broken survivor—he was becoming the hunter.

The old man swallowed hard.

And then he started talking.

And as akexier heard sung jae name he felt a rage in his blood

The old man coughed, blood staining his lips as he finally relented.

"Sung Jae had contingencies... a successor," he wheezed. "He had contacts in Japan, in the Black Yakuza. They won’t let his empire fall so easily."

Kenji’s expression darkened at the mention of the Black Yakuza. His grip on the knife tightened. Alexeier noticed the shift but stayed silent, observing his senpai’s reaction.

"Names," Kenji demanded.

The old man chuckled weakly. "You already know one… Moretti."

Silence filled the room. Kenji’s stomach twisted at the name.

Alexeier’s eyes flickered toward Kenji, catching the tension in his body. "Moretti?"

Kenji exhaled sharply, regaining control of his emotions. "He’s deeper in this than I thought."

Raven leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "So, Moretti isn’t just some remnant of your past—he's still playing the game."

The old man smirked despite his pain. "He never stopped. He’s been waiting for you, Kenji."

Kenji stepped forward, pressing the tip of his blade against the man’s throat. "Then I’ll make sure he regrets it."

Alexeier placed a hand on Kenji’s wrist—not to stop him, but as a silent reminder.

"We get everything we need first," Alexeier said. "Then we end this."

Kenji stared at the old man, his rage simmering beneath the surface. Then, with a sharp flick of his wrist, he drew the blade away, leaving a thin, bleeding cut.

"Talk," he ordered.

The old man, realizing his fate was sealed either way, began to spill every secret he knew.

And as the truth unfolded, Kenji and Alexeier knew—this wasn’t just about Sung Jae anymore.

This was about Moretti.

About Kenji’s real past.

And the revenge that had been waiting in the shadows all along.

Kenji's brows furrowed, his grip on the knife tightening involuntarily. The name Moretti rang in his ears, unfamiliar yet searing through his veins like wildfire. His body reacted before his mind could even process why.

"I don't know any Moretti," he muttered, but even as he said it, his chest tightened. His blood felt hot, his pulse thrumming with something between rage and unease.

The old man chuckled weakly, coughing up more blood. "That’s where you're wrong, Kenji… He knows you."

Kenji’s eyes darkened. "Tch. That bastard can rot for all I care."

"You think this ends with Sung Jae?" The old man grinned, the madness in his gaze making Kenji’s stomach churn. "Moretti has been watching. He always has. You—you're unfinished business."

A strange, suffocating pressure gripped Kenji’s chest. He didn't remember anyone named Moretti, yet the very mention of him made his insides coil like a venomous snake ready to strike.

Alexeier stepped closer, noticing the shift in Kenji’s posture. "Kenji?" His voice was firm but steady, anchoring him back to the present.

Kenji exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "This is pointless. He’s stalling."

The old man smirked. "Maybe. Or maybe I just wanted to see how deep it runs... how much of him is still inside you."

Kenji’s knife was at his throat in a flash. "Watch your mouth."

The old man's chuckle turned into a raspy, pained breath. "Moretti is closer than you think. And when the time comes… you'll remember."

Kenji’s grip trembled—just for a second.

Alexeier caught it.

Raven, who had been silent all this time, finally spoke. "We take what we need and leave. Now."

Kenji stepped back, his mind still reeling.

Moretti.

Why did that name feel like it was carved into his very bones?

Back at the Condo Unit

The air inside the condo felt heavier than usual. Kenji tossed his bloodied jacket onto the couch, his body tense, his mind drowning in thoughts he couldn’t piece together. Moretti. The name gnawed at the edges of his consciousness like a shadow lurking just beyond reach.

Alexeier watched him from the kitchen, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. "You’ve been quiet since we left."

Kenji exhaled sharply and adjusted his glasses. "Tch. Just tired."

"Don't lie." Alexeier placed a glass of water on the table in front of Kenji, watching as his senpai rubbed his temple, clearly exhausted. "That name—Moretti—it got to you, didn’t it?"

Kenji clicked his tongue but didn’t answer. He hated this—hated how easily Alexeier could read him, how much his body betrayed the storm in his head.

Alexeier sighed and took a seat beside him. "I get it. If someone told me there was a deeper connection to the people who ruined my life, I’d be losing my mind too."

Kenji scoffed. "You? Lose your mind? Tch. You’d just set the whole damn world on fire instead."

Alexeier smirked. "You’re not wrong." But then, his face softened, his voice quieter. "Look, you don’t have to figure everything out tonight. Just rest. We’ll deal with this when you’re ready."

Kenji looked at him, something unreadable in his gaze. He hated feeling weak. Hated feeling like a puzzle with missing pieces. But Alexeier was right—he needed time.

He leaned back, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. But don’t expect me to stay put forever."

Alexeier chuckled, nudging his shoulder. "Wouldn’t dream of it."

The room fell into a comfortable silence, but in the back of Kenji’s mind, Moretti’s name still burned.

Something was coming. And this time, he wouldn’t run from it.

Moretti & Anya—A Lingering Annoyance

Kenji leaned against the balcony railing, the cool night air doing little to calm the storm in his head. Moretti. That name rang in his mind like an irritating, out-of-tune melody. He didn't know why it got under his skin, but it did. There was something about it—something off—like a memory just out of reach.

And then there was her.

Kenji clicked his tongue, feeling a fresh wave of irritation as Anya’s annoying voice replayed in his head. The way she clung to Alexeier, the way she practically threw herself at him—it made Kenji's blood boil in a way he didn’t want to admit.

“Tch. Clingy brat,” he muttered under his breath, tightening his grip on his glass of whiskey.

Alexeier, fresh out of the shower with damp hair, stepped onto the balcony beside him. He glanced at Kenji, immediately picking up on his sour mood. “What now?”

Kenji didn’t answer right away. He took a slow sip of his drink, his glasses reflecting the city lights. Then, he sighed.

“Nothing. Just wondering how you’ve put up with that annoying woman all these years,” he finally said, voice laced with sarcasm.

Alexeier smirked. “Jealous?”

Kenji shot him a sharp glare. “Tch. Don’t flatter yourself.”

Alexeier laughed, leaning against the railing. “She’s harmless. Annoying, yeah, but she’s not a threat.”

Kenji scoffed. “You sure about that? She almost ruined our mission with her little stunt.”

Alexeier tilted his head, as if considering. “Yeah… that was reckless. I’ll handle her.”

Kenji didn’t respond. He didn’t need Alexeier to “handle” her—he just wanted her gone. Moretti was already crawling under his skin, and the last thing he needed was some desperate woman throwing herself at his Alexeier.

His Alexeier?

Kenji blinked, then quickly downed the rest of his whiskey to push the thought away.

No. He was just pissed. That was all.

Right?

Moretti & Anya—A Lingering Annoyance

Kenji leaned against the balcony railing, the cool night air doing little to calm the storm in his head. Moretti. That name rang in his mind like an irritating, out-of-tune melody. He didn't know why it got under his skin, but it did. There was something about it—something off—like a memory just out of reach.

And then there was her.

Kenji clicked his tongue, feeling a fresh wave of irritation as Anya’s annoying voice replayed in his head. The way she clung to Alexeier, the way she practically threw herself at him—it made Kenji's blood boil in a way he didn’t want to admit.

“Tch. Clingy brat,” he muttered under his breath, tightening his grip on his glass of whiskey.

Alexeier, fresh out of the shower with damp hair, stepped onto the balcony beside him. He glanced at Kenji, immediately picking up on his sour mood. “What now?”

Kenji didn’t answer right away. He took a slow sip of his drink, his glasses reflecting the city lights. Then, he sighed.

“Nothing. Just wondering how you’ve put up with that annoying woman all these years,” he finally said, voice laced with sarcasm.

Alexeier smirked. “Jealous?”

Kenji shot him a sharp glare. “Tch. Don’t flatter yourself.”

Alexeier laughed, leaning against the railing. “She’s harmless. Annoying, yeah, but she’s not a threat.”

Kenji scoffed. “You sure about that? She almost ruined our mission with her little stunt.”

Alexeier tilted his head, as if considering. “Yeah… that was reckless. I’ll handle her.”

Kenji didn’t respond. He didn’t need Alexeier to “handle” her—he just wanted her gone. Moretti was already crawling under his skin, and the last thing he needed was some desperate woman throwing herself at his Alexeier.

His Alexeier?

Kenji blinked, then quickly downed the rest of his whiskey to push the thought away.

No. He was just pissed. That was all.

Right?

Kenji exhaled sharply, gripping his glass with just enough force to keep himself from snapping. Alexeier was having way too much fun with this, and Kenji refused to give him any more satisfaction.

Still, that last comment lingered in his head.

"If you wanted my attention, you could've just asked."

Kenji scoffed inwardly. As if he'd ever ask for something like that. He was used to being unwanted—discarded, even. But Alexeier wasn’t just someone; he had a way of getting under Kenji’s skin without even trying.

He took a slow sip of his drink, eyes fixed on the city lights outside their condo window. “You sure talk big for someone who was flustered by a kiss earlier.”

Alexeier blinked, then narrowed his eyes. “That was blackmail.”

Kenji smirked. “Still happened.”

“Tch.” Alexeier rolled his eyes, leaning back against the couch. “Not like it meant anything.”

Kenji hummed, swirling the whiskey in his glass. “If you say so.”

Silence settled between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of quiet that stretched out naturally, like a lull in a conversation that didn’t need to be filled.

Kenji finally set his glass down, stretching his arms behind his head. “So, what’s next? You’re not gonna keep sulking about that kiss, are you?”

Alexeier shot him a flat look. “I wasn’t sulking.”

Kenji chuckled. “Sure, sure.”

But then Alexeier shifted slightly, gaze steady as he studied Kenji. His playful smirk was gone, replaced by something more unreadable.

“…What about you?” Alexeier asked suddenly.

Kenji frowned. “What about me?”

“You’ve been off since we got back. I know it’s not just Anya getting on your nerves.”

Kenji’s smirk twitched at the corners, but he didn’t reply immediately. He glanced down, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass.

Moretti.

That name—it shouldn’t have meant anything to him, and yet, it did.

Something deep inside him twisted, like a buried instinct clawing its way to the surface. He didn’t know why yet, but he was sure of one thing—Moretti wasn’t just another target.

And that unsettled him.

“…It’s nothing,” Kenji finally muttered, but Alexeier didn’t look convinced.

Kenji sighed, standing up and rolling his shoulders. “We’ve got a mission coming up, don’t we? We should get some rest.”

Alexeier watched him carefully, but after a moment, he let it go. “Fine. But don’t think you can fool me forever, Senpai.”

Kenji just smirked, turning away.

He wasn’t fooling Alexeier—he was fooling himself.

Kenji noticed the way Alexeier was staring at him—like he was searching for something deeper, something Kenji wasn’t ready to confront. He scoffed, running a hand through his messy brownish hair.

"You’re staring too much, brat," Kenji muttered, adjusting his glasses. "What, did I suddenly become that handsome to you?"

Alexeier didn’t smirk or tease back like he usually would. Instead, he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, and said, "You don’t get it, do you?"

Kenji arched an eyebrow. "Get what?"

"That you don’t have to keep fighting alone."

The words settled between them, heavier than any wound Kenji had ever taken. His body still ached from everything he had endured, his mind still burned with the phantom pain of his past. But this—this was different.

Kenji let out a breathy chuckle. "You’re getting sentimental again, Alex. What’s next? You gonna promise me the world?"

Alexeier grabbed his wrist, firm but not rough. "If I have to."

Kenji’s smirk faltered for just a second. He hated this. Hated how Alexeier could disarm him so easily. How his words felt like they were chipping away at the walls Kenji had spent years building.

"Idiot," Kenji muttered, but he didn’t pull away.

Alexeier’s grip softened, but he didn’t let go. "I mean it. You’re not going to lose yourself again. I won’t let you."

Kenji lowered his gaze, his fingers curling slightly in his lap. He wanted to argue, to tell Alexeier that he was already lost—that he had been for years. But for once, he let the silence sit between them.

Because for the first time in a long time…

Maybe he wanted to believe it.

The morning sun streamed through the windows of their condo, casting a golden glow over the wooden floor. Kenji rolled his shoulders, his muscles stiff from both exhaustion and lingering injuries. He still wasn’t at full strength—his body bore the reminders of his captivity, the deep bruises and barely healed wounds—but he couldn’t afford to stay still for long.

Alexeier stood across from him, arms crossed, watching. "You sure you’re up for this, senpai?"

Kenji scoffed, rolling his wrists as he adjusted his stance. "If I wait until I’m fully healed, I’ll just rot away. Let’s go."

Alexeier sighed, shaking his head. "Stubborn as always."

They started slow—Kenji needed to ease back into his movements. He tested his footwork, his balance. A simple jab. A sidestep. But as the minutes passed, he began pushing harder, forcing himself to move past the pain. He needed this. The reminder that he was still capable, that he wasn’t weak.

Alexeier matched him, countering every move effortlessly. "Tch," Kenji clicked his tongue, annoyed. "You’re holding back."

"You’re still recovering," Alexeier pointed out.

Kenji smirked, despite the dull ache in his ribs. "Then stop treating me like I’m fragile."

Alexeier hesitated, then narrowed his eyes. "Fine."

The next strike came faster—Kenji barely dodged it. Their sparring intensified, the sound of fists meeting air and skin filling the space. But Kenji’s body wasn’t fully keeping up. A misstep—just a small one—was all it took.

Alexeier swept Kenji’s leg, knocking him off balance. Before he could hit the ground, Alexeier caught him, gripping his arm tightly.

Kenji clenched his jaw, frustration flickering in his eyes. His body betrayed him again.

Alexeier, still holding him steady, muttered, "Don’t force it, Kenji. You’ll get there."

Kenji looked away, exhaling sharply. He hated this weakness. Hated being reminded of how much he had suffered. But Alexeier’s grip was steady, grounding him.

Maybe, just this once, he could let himself take things slow.

Alexeier helped Kenji up, steadying him with a firm grip. "Come on, senpai. Just some light training. No overdoing it."

Kenji scoffed, rolling his shoulders. The soreness still lingered, his body reminding him of everything he’d been through. But he wasn’t about to sit around feeling weak. "Tch. You’re starting to sound like Raven."

Alexeier smirked. "And you’re starting to sound like an old man."

Kenji clicked his tongue but followed him to their training space. They started with simple movements—footwork, stretching, and slow sparring. Kenji was used to pushing himself to the limit, but this time, Alexeier didn’t let him.

Every time Kenji wobbled slightly or winced, Alexeier pulled back. "That’s enough for now," he said firmly.

Kenji narrowed his eyes. "You babying me now?"

Alexeier chuckled. "Hardly. Just making sure you don’t break before we get our revenge."

Kenji exhaled sharply, gripping his fists. The thought of revenge—it burned inside him. "Fine. But don’t think I’ll go easy on you forever, brat."

Alexeier smirked. "Wouldn’t expect anything less."

For now, they trained at a controlled pace. But soon, Kenji would be ready. And when that time came, no one would stand in their way.

Kenji’s POV

Smirking, I tilted my head, running my tongue over my teeth as I watched Alexeier work out, his muscles flexing under the strain of the machine.

He’s not the same kid I met before.

The powerless one.

The one who used to think so lightly, like some naive little worm crawling through life, untouched by the filth of this world.

I let out a short laugh.

I pushed him. I’m the one who trained him, who made him sharpen his instincts, who forced him to survive in this hell. I dragged him into this world—no, I threw him into it.

And now? He’s standing on his own, stronger than ever.

Still, that doesn’t change the truth.

He was my burden from the start.

So I have no damn right to be weak.

As Kenji continued watching Alexeier train, a dull ache pulsed through his body. His muscles still protested from the wounds he had sustained, the scars of his captivity refusing to let him forget. He clenched his fists, feeling the slight tremor in his fingers—his body was still healing, but his mind refused to rest.

Alexeier finished his set, wiping the sweat from his brow before turning to Kenji with a smirk.

“You’re staring, senpai,” he teased, tossing a towel over his shoulder. “What? You impressed?”

Kenji scoffed, masking the strange warmth that flickered inside him. “Tch. Don’t flatter yourself, brat. I was just thinking how much of a weakling you used to be.”

Alexeier approached him, standing close—too close. His dark eyes held something different, something deeper, as he gazed at Kenji. “And now?”

Kenji met his gaze, but something in his chest tightened.

“…Not bad.”

A smirk pulled at Alexeier’s lips before he leaned in slightly, his voice lower. “Admit it, senpai. I’ve grown stronger because of you.”

Kenji clicked his tongue, looking away, but he knew the truth. Alexeier had changed. He was no longer the boy Kenji once had to shield from the darkness.

And yet, as much as he tried to convince himself otherwise—Kenji wasn’t sure if he was ready to let go of that version of Alexeier.

Because deep down, protecting him had become more than just a duty.

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