Shadow from the past

Title: Shadows of the Past & Present

Scene: Years Before Joining the Team

The neon-lit skyline of the city buzzed with life, but in the shadows, deals were made, alliances forged, and betrayals whispered like secrets in the wind.

A young Seiran walked through the underground corridors of a high-rise, his sharp eyes scanning every corner. His tailored suit barely hid the weight of the decisions he had to make daily. He wasn't always a part of the Del Tiero circle—before that, he had been someone else's pawn.

Fuyuki, a man of calculated grace, leaned against the railing of the balcony overlooking the city. His silver-rimmed glasses caught the dim light, obscuring the intent in his eyes.

Fuyuki: "You're late, Seiran. You know I don't tolerate tardiness."

Seiran: smirking "And yet, here you are, still waiting. So maybe you do."

Fuyuki's lips curled into a smirk of his own. "Still sharp-tongued, I see. That’s what makes you valuable. But don’t forget, sharp things tend to break when applied with enough force."

Seiran crossed his arms, unbothered. "If you called me here just to give me poetic warnings, I might as well leave."

Fuyuki chuckled, stepping closer. "No, I called you because there's a job. A high-stakes one. You know what happens to those who fail me."

Seiran’s expression darkened. He knew exactly what Fuyuki meant—he had seen it firsthand.

Flashback: Seiran’s First Kill

Years ago, Fuyuki had taken Seiran under his wing, not as a mentor, but as an owner of a prized tool. Seiran had no choice but to obey. His first kill had been brutal—an undercover informant who got too close to unraveling Fuyuki’s operations. The moment his blade met the target’s throat, something inside him cracked, but Fuyuki had merely patted his shoulder with satisfaction. "You did well."

The memories still clung to him, ghosts that never left.

Present:

Seiran exhaled. "What’s the job?"

Fuyuki handed him a dossier. "Your ticket out. One last job, and you’re free from my leash."

The words should have brought relief. Instead, they tasted like poison.

Scene: Present Day – Team's New Penthouse

After their long and grueling mission, the elite assassins finally had a moment to breathe. Their new penthouse was luxurious, but none of them were here for comfort—they were here for strategy and survival.

Kenji sprawled across the couch, an arm lazily draped over his face. "I swear, Raven's gonna send us to a mascot convention next. Undercover assassin mascot edition."

Alexier scoffed, crossing his arms. "You ain’t funny."

Yashiro stretched, cracking his knuckles. "I don’t know, it does seem like Raven's getting more creative. First cocktail waiters, now what? Clowns?" He glanced at Seiran with a smirk. "Hey, Seiranchi, wanna hear a joke?"

Seiran, deadpan, turned to him. "Am I a joke to you?"

Yashiro put his hands up in mock surrender. "Damn, chill, I was just trying to lighten the mood."

Kenji grinned, turning his attention to Alexier. "So, Alexier, what do you say we do another ‘round’—"

Alexier’s face instantly burned red as he smacked Kenji away. "Oi! What’s running through that twisted head of yours?!"

Kenji chuckled, leaning in closer. "Still sore?"

Alexier sputtered before hitting him again, much to Yashiro's amusement.

Yashiro sighed dramatically. "Ugh, you two are so damn flirty right in front of my face. Have some decency."

Seiran walked toward the kitchen, ignoring the chaos behind him. Yashiro trailed after him with a smirk.

"Seiranchi, doesn’t it ever bother you? Seeing these two act like newlyweds? Maybe it’s time you found someone."

Seiran, still nonchalant, grabbed a glass of water. "Are you offering yourself?"

Yashiro blinked before grinning. "Oho, now that was unexpected."

Kenji called from the couch. "Oi, lovebirds, don’t start something you can’t finish."

Seiran rolled his eyes, while Yashiro just laughed.

Episode 3: Ghosts of the Past

---

The Vault Showdown

The underground vault was a labyrinth of reinforced steel and biometric locks. The air was thick with tension as Seiran and Yashiro moved in silence, their steps synchronized. The dim lighting cast long shadows, making the place feel eerily deserted—except for the faint sound of footsteps ahead.

Seiran’s grip on his weapon tightened. Yashiro could tell—this wasn’t just a mission anymore.

“Seiran,” Yashiro murmured. “Take a breath.”

Seiran didn’t answer. He was already locking onto the figure at the end of the corridor—

Fuyuki Kaito.

The man who betrayed Seiran, left him for dead, and sold out everything they once stood for.

Fuyuki smirked as he turned to face them, dressed in a sharp black suit, a custom pistol in hand. Calm. Arrogant. Untouched by the years.

“Well, well,” Fuyuki drawled. “I was wondering when we’d run into each other again.”

Seiran raised his gun instantly, but Yashiro grabbed his wrist. “Not yet,” he whispered. “Make it count.”

Fuyuki chuckled. “Oh? You’re keeping him on a leash now?” His eyes flicked to Yashiro. “That’s adorable.”

Yashiro grinned. “I know, right? He’s a handful, but I manage.”

Seiran: “Shut up.”

Fuyuki tilted his head. “Still full of anger. Good. I was afraid you’d gone soft.”

Yashiro whispered, “Seiran, he’s stalling.”

Seiran knew it too. But he didn’t care.

“Enough,” he growled. “I’m ending this.”

---

The Fight Begins

Seiran charged first, fast and ruthless. Fuyuki dodged, countering with a precise shot—but Seiran was faster.

BANG!

The bullet barely grazed him as he closed the distance, swinging his blade. Fuyuki ducked, twisting away at the last second.

Yashiro sighed dramatically. “You two wanna slow down? I just did my nails.”

Fuyuki smirked. “Still playing babysitter?”

Yashiro fired a shot mid-sentence. Fuyuki barely dodged.

“I babysit no one,” Yashiro grinned. “I just really hate your face.”

---

Meanwhile, Kenji & Alexier (Rooftop Team)

Kenji: “Wanna place bets on who dies first?”

Alexier: “Just cover them.”

Kenji: “Ugh, so serious. Fine. But if Seiran doesn’t at least break Fuyuki’s nose, I’m demanding a refund.”

Alexier: “Refund on what?”

Kenji: “The emotional investment, babe.”

---

Seiran’s Rage Unleashed

Seiran caught Fuyuki’s arm, twisting it violently. Fuyuki gritted his teeth as Seiran slammed him into the wall.

Fuyuki chuckled, even through the pain. “You really do want me dead.”

Seiran’s voice was low, dangerous. “You have no idea.”

He pressed his gun under Fuyuki’s chin—

But then—

“Seiran, move!”

Yashiro’s warning came just as Fuyuki kicked forward, sending Seiran crashing backward.

In one smooth motion, Fuyuki grabbed a smoke grenade and detonated it—

The room filled with thick fog.

By the time it cleared—Fuyuki was gone.

---

The Aftermath

Seiran stood there, fists clenched, breathing hard.

Yashiro exhaled. “Well. That was dramatic.”

Seiran didn’t move.

Yashiro nudged him. “Hey. We’ll get him.”

Seiran finally spoke, voice raw. “This isn’t over.”

Yashiro smirked, looping an arm around Seiran’s shoulder. “Good. Because I wasn’t done insulting him.”

Seiran sighed. “Get off me.”

Yashiro: “Never.”

---

To Be Continued…

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