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Chapter 26 - Second Night

The sunlight cut through the wide windows like a blade.

Itami stirred.

The sheets beneath him were too soft, the air too warm. This wasn't his room. Or anywhere he can recognize.

He blinked hard. Once. Twice. The ceiling above was high, ornate. A chandelier hung silently above a polished suite.

He sat up slowly. His head throbbed—not painfully, just… off. Dull, fogged. Like someone had stuffed cotton into his brain.

What the hell…

He swung his legs off the bed, still dressed in his undershirt and slacks. His boots were neatly placed at the foot of the bed. His jacket folded on a nearby chair. That was odd.

A muffled noise came from outside the room.

A TV?

He opened the door and stepped into the main lounge of the suite.

Kael was sprawled on the couch, boots kicked up on the coffee table, flipping channels on the massive flatscreen like he owned the place. A half-empty bag of chips crinkled in his lap.

"Morning, rookie," Kael said without looking up. "You snore louder than me."

At the kitchen bar, Lira sat sideways on a stool, flipping through a glossy celebrity magazine. The kind with bold fonts and fake smiles. Her legs were crossed, She didn't look up, but her voice was sharp.

"Didn't know you were such a party animal, rookie."

Sauske stood by the window, zipping up his med pack. He turned as Itami stepped in, forcing a grin.

"Yo, you're alive. I was about to start checking for a pulse."

Itami blinked. "What… happened?"

Sauske shrugged a little too quickly. "You and the VIP had a drink or two, maybe three. Drex said you passed out before the elevator even hit the lobby." His smile faltered a fraction—just for a beat—before he added, "So we got you here to crash."

Itami watched him for a second. Sauske wasn't meeting his eyes. He kept rubbing the back of his neck like he didn't know what to do with his hands.

Kael clicked to a different channel. "Next time, drink water in between and eat raw ginger. Helps with the hangover."

Lira flipped a page, still not looking up. "You really should read labels more often. Some wine hits harder than others."

Itami stood still.

Something was off. But before the thought could form Drex walked in. Kael turned off the TV having the room turn silent as Drexs stood in the middle of everyone.

Drex scanned the room once, then fixed his eyes on Itami.

"Good. You're up," he said, voice even, unreadable. "Now that our sleeper agent's awake, let's go over the day's schedule ."

He crossed to the center table, tapped his tablet. A soft chime sounded as a holographic map of the city flickered into view above the screen.

"Second venue's in Aoyama tonight. Smaller theater, but tighter security. We'll rotate posts every hour except for Wraith." He glanced at Itami. "You stay on the VIP, same as before. Lobby pickup, private entrance around back."

Itami nodded once, arms crossed.

Drex continued. "Your disguise protocols are still active, but keep the face scrambler on at all times when in public. She's staying one floor above us for now. When the clock hits seventeen-hundred, you'll head to the lobby and bring her down. Try to look like you slept."

Kael snorted. "Try not to faint in the elevator this time."

Lira finally looked up from her magazine, smirking faintly. "Maybe bring mints. You smelled like a dirty animal."

Sauske chuckled under his breath but still didn't meet Itami's eyes. "You want some light healing, just in case? You're still pale."

"I'm good," Itami muttered.

Drex didn't react to the banter. He locked eyes with Itami.

"No mistakes today. Eyes on her, at all times. That's the job."

Itami gave a slow nod. "Understood."

Drex tapped his tablet again, dismissing the map.

Drex turned, tablet in hand, and exited as cleanly as he came.

The room stayed quiet for a beat after the door clicked shut.

Itami let out a slow breath, glancing around. No one moved to speak again. Kael went back to the TV. Lira turned a page. Sauske busied himself with a stray strap on his medpack.

Itami stepped back into the suite's bedroom. The door closed behind him with a soft click.

He sat on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees, eyes staring at the carpet.

The fog in his head had faded… mostly. But something about last night was off. Not just the wine. Not just the others. Pieces didn't fit.

What happened?The elevator? Maybe. 

A vague memory of Aika saying something on the way out. 

Maybe Drex's voice.

Blank.

His hand tightened around the fabric of the bed.

The silence of the room pressed in. The same feeling from earlier,like he was on the edge of something but couldn't name it.

He stood, crossed to the small rack where his suit had been laid out again. Looking out the window, over looking the busy city below. 

I'll just forget about it…For now.

The lobby, glowing under soft evening lights.

Itami stood near the edge of the outside of the hotel, fully suited once more, face calm, posture squared. He checked the time. Almost time to go.

His reflection stared back at him in the glass doors. Clean lines. Blank expression.

He adjusted his tie, slower this time. Not fumbling.

Just watching the doors as guest come in and out. 

Aika stepped through, dressed in a dark navy coat that trailed elegantly with each step. Her hair was tied back again, neat, sharp. Sunglasses hid her expression, but her body language was calm. Controlled.

"Itami," she said, tone light. "Right on time."

He straightened slightly. "Of course."

She reached him with a smooth stride, removing her sunglasses as she stopped in front of him. Her lips curved into a familiar half-smile.

"Ready for another night of performance and flashing lights?"

"Whenever you are, Miss Aika."

Her smile held a moment longer, then she looked past him, toward the tinted SUV idling just outside.

"Then let's not keep the world waiting."

Itami moved to walk beside her, falling into the same measured pace. Guests near the lobby doors turned, a few whispering at the sight of her. Cameras didn't flash—at least, not yet. But recognition was in the air. Aika paid them no mind.

She didn't speak again as they walked. Her heels clicked softly against the marble, rhythmic and exact. From the outside, nothing had changed. Same charm. Same poise.

But there was something in the way her eyes moved. They didn't drift like they had yesterday. Didn't scan or linger. They cut straight ahead like lasers—focused, precise.

Not watching. Her smile hadn't faded, but up close… it was the kind of smile people wore on celebrity magazines. Pretty. Empty.

Itami didn't notice. Not consciously. He kept pace at her side, posture tight but calm. Focused on the job. 

Another night. Another show. Same steps, different stage.

The SUV door shut with a solid click behind them.

Inside, the car was quiet—too quiet.

No music. No idle chatter from the front seat. Just the low hum of the engine and the distant sound of traffic.

Itami adjusted his cuffs, eyes flicking to the front.

Kael was driving.

He hadn't said a word when they entered. No smart remark. No casual joke. Just a brief glance in the rearview mirror—expression unreadable, eyes forward.

Aika didn't seem to notice. Or care. She sat with perfect posture, hands folded loosely in her lap, gaze fixed out the window.

Itami did the same as Aika, looking out the window watching the sun go down on the city line. After some time, the theatre shinned bright in the distance. 

Aika stood in front of the mirror, already halfway into her costume—a sleek, flowing ensemble stitched in shades of silver and deep blue. The faint scent of stage makeup and perfume lingered in the air, sharp but familiar.

She fastened a thin necklace at her collarbone, each movement precise. Unrushed.

Itami stood near the wall, arms crossed, scanning the room. But his eyes lingered.

She hadn't spoken since they arrived.No casual remarks. No sideways glances. Just silence.

She picked up the blindfold last—folded neatly beside a brush and a small velvet box. With one smooth motion, she tied it around her head, the dark fabric resting perfectly across her eyes.

It's showtime.

Itami followed her out the door, their footsteps echoing down a new hallway. Different wallpaper. Different crew. But the same energy.

Controlled chaos. Anticipation in the air.

He said nothing. Just kept close.

The stage lights pulsed behind the curtains.

Itami stood just offstage, in the same place as before, arms crossed, gaze fixed.

The orchestra began. Same cue. Same rising tempo. But—

It felt different this time.

Aika stepped into the spotlight, her blindfold tied, her gown flowing. But there was no grace in her movements. Not really. They were precise, yes—every step perfectly placed, every spin measured—but there was no softness. No expression. No heart.

She moved like a machine. Not a dancer. And yet the crowd watched in awe.

They saw a goddess gliding across the stage. They didn't notice the absence behind the performance.

But Itami did.

Her first show had shimmered with something real—grit, emotion, artistry. This was just repetition. Going through motions she'd done a hundred times before. Perfectly executed. Hollow.

His jaw tightened slightly. Something sat wrong in his chest.

He scanned the orchestra pit. Crew members. Everything was running smooth. No threats. Nothing to report.

But that didn't settle the feeling.

Aika ended the final note with an elegant bow as the music drew to a close. The crowd stood, clapping thunderously.

She held her posture for a beat longer than she should've.

Then turned, gliding offstage without a glance to the crowd.

Itami stepped back as she passed him, her blindfold still in place. She didn't acknowledge him. Didn't say a word. Just kept walking.

They moved through the halls again, past the crews and stagehands congratulating her with bright voices. She responded with short nods, mechanical thanks.

When they reached the dressing room, Itami held the door. Aika entered without looking at him, shrugging off her outer layer.

Itami waited outside this time. An occasional stage worker came rushing by, clipboard in hand. After minutes of silence Aika walked out of the dressing room And began to walk towards the back exit, Itami following. 

Still no words. The silence grew heavy.

Just like the day before, he opened the door for her and saw Drex in the driver seat instead of Kael.

Once she went in, Itami followed closing the door as they drove off. Aika stared out the window, her features soft, almost dazed.

He watched her for a moment. Her eyes didn't blink as the streetlights passed. Just a constant, distant stare.

Then, like flicking a switch, she spoke.

"That went well," she said, her voice light but with none of the energy from before. "Crowd was enthusiastic. I didn't miss a step."

Itami studied her. "You didn't say much after."

She shrugged, still staring outside. "Takes a lot out of you. Dancing, singing, performing."

A beat passed.

Then she pressed a button near the center console. The middle seat shifted slightly. A tray rose from within, presenting the same bottle of dark wine and two glasses.

Itami stared at the wine bottle, the same wine from the night before.

Aika reached for it, casual. She poured again. A slight hesitation in the motion.

She handed him a glass.

He hesitated.

Drex's voice cracked softly through the comm in his ear.

"Accommodate the VIP."

Itami didn't look toward the front.

But he saw Drex's face in the mirror. Neutral. Watching.

The pressure sat on his chest like a hand.

Itami took the glass.

"Just one," he muttered.

Aika raised hers slightly. "To flawless performances."

They drank. 

The wine tasted the same but the burning sensation was less than before. He was able to hold the cough in easier.

Itami then leaned back into his seat as Aika closed her eyes for a moment. Warmth curling around the edges of his mind. A buzz in the tips of his fingers. His breathing slowed.

Across from him, Aika leaned back into her position, looking out the window. The city rolled past outside the tinted windows.

And in the silence, something else settled.

Stillness. Weight. Unease.

Something's not right.

But Itami said nothing.He leaned his head back, as the warmth covered more of his body. And the SUV drove on.

A car bebind them, couple of cars keeping their distance , same color and same tinted windows followed. Kael rolled his windows down to let out cigarette smoke. 

Sauske leaned forward from the back seat, elbows on his knees, voice low but not hushed.

"This isn't right." 

The words came out like lead as his foot bounced up and down.

Lira sat across from him, flipping a small blade between her fingers, the motion slower than usual. Her gaze didn't rise, focused on the blade. 

"Still not our call to mess with it" she said.

Sauske looked up, frustration just beneath his voice. "This isn't just a mission anymore . It's wrong. And we're letting it happen. He's a kid, barley in Highschool. Are any of you okay with this?!"

Kael took a deep inhale of his cigarette, the smoke going out the window. Then he flicked the cigarette bud.

"We've all done things we didn't like," he said after a moment. "Orders are orders. This isn't new."

Sauske's jaw clenched.

"This isn't some hit, or protecting the rich from their problems. This is—."

Lira finally looked up. Her eyes sharp but not as usual. "Orders are orders, darling. Want to feel better? Share a drink with me on the balcony later."

No one replied. Just silence till Lira muttered to herself. 

"Just another lonely night without the comfort of our handsome medic."

The car kept moving through the night, headlights stretching across pavement like long, fading shadows.

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